Commander Munchausen

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Captain Hesperus
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Post by Captain Hesperus »

matt634 wrote:
Ahh yes, 1 tale and 2 answers - not 3 answers. My mistake :oops:
Not a problem, even I had to check before I answered...
matt634 wrote:
Surely, someone else challenges the authenticity of the Captains exploits.
Probably. I'm too well known for people to trust what I say..... :P

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Post by Captain Hesperus »

Uhhhm. Still waiting......

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Post by JensAyton »

*cricket*
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Post by matt634 »

Come on people... this Hesperus were talking about here, and his story has more holes than the hull of the Profit :wink:. For instance (and this is by no means a challenge, just pointing out the obvious) :
Three and a half hours later, we were safely aboard the 'Profit' and had made her space-ready.
Now who on these boards honestly believes that anyone short of Giles the Creator could have that lunk space worthy in only three and a half hours!
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Post by Captain Hesperus »

If this keeps up, I'm gonna nominate someone to challenge me.....

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Post by Kaks »

Ok, ok! Isn't the Dalosinian capital surrounded by a highly flammable treacle swamp? Given that the only remotely fireproof place is the asbestos laden inner city ( people coughing their lungs out, the magnificent dawn chorus of Dalosin! ), how did you manage to go through the fire with just the help of a few horses?

By the way, I could have sworn that the ritual prayer ended with the phrase "Ifeyeyeva findoot thizizask ameyeal qillooz." instead of "Ifeyeyeva findoot thizizask ameyeal qillya.", go figure! :D
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Post by Captain Hesperus »

Kaks wrote:
Ok, ok! Isn't the Dalosinian capital surrounded by a highly flammable treacle swamp? Given that the only remotely fireproof place is the asbestos laden inner city ( people coughing their lungs out, the magnificent dawn chorus of Dalosin! ), how did you manage to go through the fire with just the help of a few horses?
A very astute question, Commander Kaks! I see the Credits earned by your modelling career on your tuition fees were not wasted!

Indeed, there is a vast and treacherous black treacle swamp which was set abaze by King Rhinitis the IInd after his abortive war against the Hordes of the evil (by Dalosinian standards that must be exceptionally bad!) Emperor Zneekibastid the Innumerable. It, of course, is created from the run-off of the spring rains from the Sugar Mountains percolating through the soil of Teaatis and, after being heated by the intense sunlight, forms a think morass of treacle-like sludge that has over the centuries surrounded Dalosin. This brings me to a short-form explanation of the wildlife of Teaatis.
The Coda Zoologica Xenomorphae, the foremost series of books covering the vast subject of xenobiology and xenomorphology has an entire chapter (some 80,000 pages) devoted to the creatures of Teaatis after the 'Conflagration of the Treacle Swamps'. Many creatures in the general area were forced away after the swamps were ignited, but some few remained, eking out a poor existance in the permanent clouds of thick, choking smoke and intense heat. There is a species of toad, the Teaatisian Fire-proof Sugar Cane Toad (Bufo marinus Teaatis Nomexii), which lives exclusively in the intense inferno, feeding on the cook carcasses of any creature fool enough to try venturing into the swamps. One species of bird, the Greater Teaatisian Crow (Corvus Corax Infernum), managed to survive by evolving its feathers to have both a fire retardant quality (due to it's diet of Fire-proof Sugar Cane Toads) and to be constantly growing. This is very handy since the Greater Teaatisian Crow makes it's nest on the very edge of the swamps and regularly hunts for the Fire-proof Toads within the burning expanses of swamp. The tales of the Pheonix originated on Teaatis after off-world visitors watched the Greater Crows returning to their nests wreathed in flames, seemingly unharmed. The largest beast to exist in this hellish landscape is the Teaatisian Horse. This animal is not, as the name suggests a quadripedal mammal of the Genus Equus (which has nothing to do with naked 'boy wizard' actors), but is in fact a 2 and a half ton quadripedal lizard of the Corytophanidae family. which feasts on both the Greater Crow and, by imitating it's mating call, the Fire-proof Sugar Cane Toad. This diet makes the Horse all but immune to the fires of the Treacle Swamp, over which it can move at remarkable speeds, due to the webbed and oily skin of it's feet. It developed this running speed to effectively chase and catch the Greater Crow, which can fly at speeds of upto 80 standard kilometres per hour.
After Rhinitis the IInd set the swamps ablaze and was promptly deposed by his son, the people of Dalosin had to rely on the ancient asbestos mines beneath the city to build houses and clothing to protect themselves and their carts when they shipped food and other products into and out of the city and through the winding and often shifting paths of the Swamps. For the city's further protection Rhinitis the XXVth, after seeing the great speed and power of the Teaatisian Horse from his newly rebuilt castle, The Monstrous Carbuncle of Dalosin, ordered forty Horses to be captured and tamed so that he could raise a cavalry regiment. This regiment, the Chocolate Fire Guards (named after the rich brown colour of their uniforms), served with distinction and increased their numbers to one hundred up til and including the reign of the soon to be doomed Rhinitis the XLIInd.
Unbenownst to Rhinitis, the barbarians had also caught and tamed Horses and were using them in their raids upon other monarchs' lands. This is how they were able to cross the swamps so effectively and start throwing gobbets of burning treacle through the windows of the fire-retardant houses, before the Chocolate Fire Guards were able to react. Rus and the Lobstoids, being the resourceful fellows that they were, were able to persuade some of the Fire Guards to consider a life in the infantry by means of dragging them bodily from their saddles and beating them into unconsciousness. Thus were we able to gallop across the swamps, wrapped in asbestos blankets and wearing the ceremonial breathing apparatus of the Fire Guards, to the safety of the Dubious Profit.

If only those damn blankets had covered my head completely. The fur on the back of my ears took weeks to grow back once the burns healed....

Now.
There's something I've never really reconciled in my mind and that is:

Could LittleBear explain the circumstances that lead to him landing an Ancient Earthian Lancaster Bomber on Lave's major moon and how he came to have a payload of Erxesoanian famous Sebese juice in the bomb bay?
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Post by LittleBear »

Ah yes, I still shudder when I recall the bizarre and inexplicable series of coincidences that led me to perform this remarkable feat. I have never spoken of it before for fear of prosecution by the GalCop Chrono-Guard for wilful contamination of the time-line. Fortunately, the statutory time limit for the initiation of criminal proceedings against my good self expired last week, and so only now can the tale be told in full.

It was early in my career and I was still a Mostly Harmless noobie, commanding The Rising Star, a lightly equipped Cobra Mk III trade ship. The ink on my pilots licence was still barley dry and for the last two standard months I’d been quietly trading between Lave and Lestesi, running Liquor and Furs to Lestesi and Computers and Machinery back to Lave. The Rising Star was still only lightly equipped, just a Beam Laser, Fuel Injectors and an Escape Pod. I’d just docked at Lestesi High carrying a cargo of Laveian Mind Silk, when I was approached by shady looking edible arts graduate who wished to unload his cargo of Erxesoanian famous Sebese juice.

At first I was sceptical of the wisdom of such a purchase. I was planning to haul a couple of tons of Computers and Machinery back to Lave and taking Liquors and Wines back there seemed to be like taking coals to Newcastle as the ancient proverb has it.

I was reliably informed however that the Festival of Waalas was due to commence next week. As all Commanders will be aware, the drinking of “Bouncing Bomb” cocktails is a key part of the celebrations and it so happens that, for reasons lost in history, Sebese juice is a key ingredient in this tradition drink. It seemed a good bet therefore that the price would rise by the time I arrived at Lave. I still had 24 Credits in the bank after purchasing my cargo, so I decided to take a risk and purchase a ton of this strange beverage from the arts graduate, along with 5 tons of un-programed mechanical beings.

With a mere 0.64 C to my name I set my destination to Lave and approached the Faraway Jump Point. Now many of you will have heard the stories of Miss-Jumps leaving a Commander stranded between the stars and prey to Thargoid raiding parties. But I expect most of you will have dismissed the stories of a Miss-Jump hurling the unfortunate pilot not mealy off course but through time as a tale of Grandmother Spacewarp.

Well I can assure you that such events do sometimes happen. Just as the witch jump rings cleared, I heard with horror the trans-Atlantic tones of my on-board AI speak the dreaded words “Warning Witch Space Malfunction”. An Iron Ass might have stood a chance against a group of Thargoids, but the Rising Star was clearly going to be deader than corduroy trousers. I placed my paws over my eyes, whispered a prayer to Giles the Creator that he would gather my soul to His arms and waited for death.

After a full minute of nothing happening, I plucked up the courage to remove my paws and take stock of the situation. Rather than the green stars of witchspace, I beheld the almost equally alarming sight of a small blue-green planet looming large in the forward visi-screen. I had already entered the atmosphere and the rising hull temperature had melted the ships guidance systems. There was nothing I could do. I was going in, the nose of my craft pointing towards a small island on the planet’s northern hemisphere. I braced myself for impact and hoped fervently that the duralumin skin of my Cobra would be sufficiently sturdy to save my own.

My ship struck the surface of the planet at an alarming high speed, but I was saved from destruction by the intervention of a small cottage that served to reduce my velocity somewhat. The Cobra was a wreak, by I was alive. The cottage however was totalled.

I called up my Ship Status Screen on what was left of the main viewer, desperate to discover where I was. The read out showed all my equipment save my witch fuel injectors had been destroyed, although my cargo remained intact. Remarkably the hyperdrive still functioned and 5 ly of fuel remained. Unfortunatley the structural integrity generator was severally damaged and incapable of projecting a field sufficient to cover my Cobra. I activated the distress beacon and awaited rescue.

To pass the time, I called up the Short range chart in order to discover where I was. I now received my third unpleasant shock of the day. The screen was completely blank. GalCop did not exist according to the computer and no worlds were colonised. The Computer showed my current location as some 22 light years from my staring position on a planet in orbit around a star the computer called ‘Sol’. The entry in the Encyclopaedia of Worlds described it as “Harmless”.

I had studied ancient history at the Lave academy and realised that I had crashed on the original home of mankind, normally unreachable with a standard hyperspace drive. But what had happened to GalCop? Why were no other planets colonised? With a groan I saw the alarming truth. My Chronometer showed the year as 1941. Somehow the witchspace malfunction had not only hurled me off course, I had also travelled back over 1,000 years in time. Could my destruction of the small cottage have altered the course of history in some way? I was determined to find out.

I realised at once that my appearance as a small bearoid would cause the inhabitants some alarm and probably contaminate the time-line further. Fortunately I was able to canibalise the HoloFac Communication system to project the holo-image of a human over my furry form and set off to investigate the remains of the cottage.

My Cobra had ploughed straight through the cottage reducing the body of its single human inhabitant to a long streak of strawberry jam. As luck would have it however, he had been cleanly decapitated in the accident and his head remained relatively undamaged. I repaired back to my Cobra carrying his head, hoping to extract some information from his brain. Wiring the human’s brain into the main computer I download his memories and personality.

It appeared that at this stage in history Earth was engaged in some type of deadly civil war. The human was an inventor who had been working on some type of new weapon called a “Bouncing Bomb”. It was intended by his faction that the Bomb would be fitted to some type of primitive aircraft know locally as a Lancaster Bomber.

Scanning through his memories I learned that his design called for the bomb to bounce several times before striking its target. I could not begin to understand why this was important, but I determined to construct such a device in order to repair the damage my arrival had done to the time-line.

As luck would have it, one of the physical properties of Sebese juice is that when rotated at a certain speed, its density changes to become much lighter than air. A couple of bottles of juice stowed in the outer casing of the bomb would have the desired effect. I was still left with the difficulty of replacing the inventor I had inadvertently killed. My cargo of un-programmed artificial beings had survived the crash intact. It was the work of a few moments to download the contents of the inventor’s brain to the artificial being and set up a portable holo-emitter to generate the image of the dead inventor around my robotic replacement. I sent off my facsimile with a couple of bottles of Sebese juice and instructions to construct the device, whilst I awaited results.

Well, it was a long wait, but sure enough the device worked and the time line was resorted. I saw with relief on my Long Range Chart all the systems of the GalCop Collective popping back into existence just as they had been. One problem solved, one more to go. I was still stranded light years from home and 1,000 years in the past.

The hyperdrive was intact and I had sufficient fuel for a jump. The fiendishly complex hyper-mathematical calculations that had caused the miss-jump were still stored in The Rising Star’s Navigation Computer. Simply by reversing the polarity of the main drive I could reproduce in reverse the conditions which had lead to the miss-jump and return to Lave in my own time. Although I could make the jump home, my Cobra would never fly again. I needed a new craft to achieve orbit and escape the mass-locking effect of the Earth’s gravitational field.

My inverter simulant was being congratulated by the flight crews that had returned safely from the bombing raid. Using a sub-ether relay I instructed my simulant to fly one of the Lancaster Bombers from the air-base to the crash site of the Rising Star. My fur stood on end when I saw the rickety state of this vessel. It seemed to be constructed mainly of wood and canvas. However, this primative design had the advantage of being incredibly light.

I realised that a few bottles of Sebese juice rotating at exactly the right frequency would become sufficiently non-dense to raise the whole contraption like a hot-air balloon into orbit. Due to its light weight, my damaged structural integrity field generator would be able to project a field around the Lancaster enabling me to fly safely through the vacuum of space. I cannibalised my wichdrive injectors to make primitive thrusters, installed the hyper-drive and fitted a Bouncing Bomb filled with Sebese juice to the Lancaster’s bomb bay.

My plan worked perfectly, the rotating bottles of Sebese juice lifted my craft slowly but surely into orbit. A quick dab of the injectors was sufficient to clear the planet’s gravitational field and I engaged the Hyper Drive. Once again, the luck of the Anti-Giles was with me and I emerged at Lave in my own time. I had just enough fuel left in my primative thrusters to set a course for Lave’s Main Station. Admittedly it would take me several weeks to arrive, but I was on course and on my way home. Lave’s moon loomed large through the cock-pit glass and I started to look forward to reaching civilisation again.

Suddenly as I approached Lave’s Moon, the altimeter on the primitive craft started to drop. I was puzzled and alarmed, my velocity should have been sufficient to escape the gravitation pull of the moon take me safely to the planet. But I had forgotten one thing. In reversing the polarity of the hyperdrive, the spacewarp field generated had reversed the properties of the Sebese juice in the bomb bay. Rather than being non-dense it was now exceedingly dense, drawing my craft towards the surface of the moon. Desperately I tried to jettison bottles, but it was too late, for the second time in my career I was going to have to make a forced landing.

Taking the controls of the Ancient Earthian Lancaster Bomber with its payload of Erxesoanian famous Sebese juice in the bomb bay I landed on Lave’s major moon. Once safely down I activated the distress beacon from my Escape Pod and awaited rescue. A few days later a GalCop Viper took me safely to Lave’s Station. On arrival I filled an insurance claim with Obnoxi-Corp for the loss of the Rising Star. There was some legal wrangling as to whether my claim for loss of a starship in an alternate past was valid, Obnoxi's lawyers submitting that as the loss took place before I had taken out the insurance contract I was not covered. But that is a tale for another time….
Last edited by LittleBear on Wed Feb 20, 2008 4:40 pm, edited 2 times in total.
OXPS : The Assassins Guild, Asteroid Storm, The Bank of the Black Monks, Random Hits, The Galactic Almanac, Renegade Pirates can be downloaded from the Elite Wiki here.
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Post by TGHC »

Nice :D
The Grey Haired Commander has spoken!
OK so I'm a PC user - "you know whats scary? Out of billions of sperm I was the fastest"
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Post by Disembodied »

Fascinating! If I'd heard it from anyone else, I would have dismissed it out of hand as the most egregious hogwash, a tissue of simulations, deceptions and base canards... but your reputation for scrupulous honesty is a gold-plated guarantee.

However, having some experience with memory transfer technology myself, one small detail puzzles me: how did you manage to convince the ancient inventor's personality, once it was resident in the artificial body, to abandon its original plans (whatever they were) and go with your Sebese-juice solution instead?
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Post by LittleBear »

Oh that was simplicity itself Commander. If you consult the history of the inventor’s deadly civil war, you will find that in the now restored time-line the inventors device was not used in the war until May 16th 1943. You’ll recall that I arrived in 1941. At this point in the space / time continuum the inventor only had the vaguest of ideas as to how he would accomplish the feat of constructing his “Bouncing Bomb”.

When I accidentally decapitated him in 1941, his thought processes had not passed beyond vague ideas that some sort of rotating device would be the solution to the problem. It was therefore easy to persuade him to develop his ideas of rotation, to use rotating bottles of juice in the design. As you know, the dead become extremely stubborn about ideas they developed in life and using the firmly embedded idea that rotation was the key appealed to the inventor’s innate thought processes.

I did mention that I had a long wait before the time-line restored itself. Fortunately, being a bearoid I was able to hibernate aboard the wreak of my Cobra for almost two years.
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Post by Disembodied »

Ah, of course. All is now clear, and we can accept your account as the pure, unvarnished truth -- unless there are any more frivolous nitpickers out there?
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Post by Captain Hesperus »

I have nothing to ask, but I really, really love this thread.... :D

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Post by matt634 »

Another fantastic tale...

I am curious, however, as to how you managed to stay alive inside the ancient craft, for several weeks, without modern day life support systems - food, water, oxygen supply, CO2 scrubbers, etc...
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Post by LittleBear »

As events transpired I was only in the Lancaster for less than 50 hours, due to my rescue from Lave’s Moon by a GalCop Viper. However, I had made preparations for the three week journey to Lave’s Main Station as I was naturally keen to recoup my losses by selling this mint condition vintage aircraft to a collector. As I’m sure you know, an original Bell & Braben Shipyards Adder (with wireframe paintjob) can fetch as much as 400,000 Credits to a collector of vintage craft. Had the Lancaster not been badly damaged in the crash I’m sure I could have named any price I chose and become the first Mostly Harmless Commander in history to own a fully equipped Imperial Courier. Sadly, it was not to be.

Food provided little difficulty. I was the single occupant of the Lancaster and the crash site of the Rising Star was in a countryside area of the island on which I crashed. The locals farmed a strange woolly four legged animal that proved remarkably docile and therefore easy for a bearoid such as myself to bring down with a swift bite to the back of the neck. I must confess that my hunting activities may have inadvertently caused some pollution of the time line. I studied the folk-law of ancient “Enger Land” (as the locals named their part of the island) and noticed that in the 20th Centaury there were many reported sightings of strange and fearsome beasts roaming the normally peaceful countryside of the island. It is possible that my hunting activities were in part responsible for these legends. At a pinch a small bearoid can survive on less than one litre of water per day and thus the Lancaster was easily capable of holding sufficient bottled water for my modest needs.

You are quite correct that oxygen and removal of carbon dioxide was the biggest difficulty. However the Lancaster was provided with a primitive life support system in order to allow its crew to fly in an un-pressurised cabin at high altitude. The pilots’ seat had easy access to an oxygen mask and I laid in a good stock of the oxygen tanks necessary to keep me breathing during the 3 week trip. I had no time to construct a carbon dioxide scrub and had realised that once my own exhaled breath started to raise the carbon dioxide level of the Lancaster above a safe level I would have no choice but to breath from the mask at all times, attaching it to a small portable oxygen bottle whenever I wished to move around. I was more than prepared though to put up with a few weeks of discomfort in order to salvage this valuable craft.
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