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*Space Marshal Taklin Flax sat at his desk, the com beeped.*
Com: Sir, we've recieved a mesage from Lord Cracken, he wishes to negociate a peace treaty!
*Flax sat stunned for a moment.* Prepare my shuttle, and an escort fleet.
Com: At once, sir.
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*Captain Halren Flax sat across from an atractive dark haired young woman, in a Correlian Tap Caf. That was the good news, the bad news was he wasn't getting anywhere.*
Hal: So.... Alys, how do you about you and me find some real drink. I know this place that sells ale by the barrel load.
Fly Fast,
Shoot Straight,
Live Long!
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