L from the E to the OTF

Article by Polson

Good morning campers! Welcome once again to the Blue Report. We've got fun, we've got food, we've got pretty much anything that starts with an f, except for anything that wasn't on sale at Wal-Mart.

I'd like to think I have something profound to say to everybody this issue, but I don't really. Other than that I truly believe all computer games should come with warnings about zombies on the box, you know? Just a little corner devoted to preparing the skittish ones. "Warning! At some point in this game, you'll see a creepy old house. Your first instinct will be to run away, but you know that in order to move on in the game, you have to enter. Besides, what could happen? Well for starters, a whole bunch of zombies will jump out from the floor and surround you. I know you're just going to maddly hit keys until they all die or you do, but try to stay calm because as soon as you defeat them, you'll trigger a giant grave behind the house to open up and then it will get REALLY freaky." I'd tell you what happened next, except, that's when I hit the escape key and ran away from the computer for a few hours.

Life is kind of like that, I've noticed. All kinds of things jump out and get you all the time but there's no warning label on your birthday skin. I think that's why we're born naked, like an automatic built in red flag. "Caution! There's nothing between you and the world. Put on some shoes and a pair of pants before you hurt yourself."

I know, you're all like, "what the hell is she going on about?" but I suppose my point is, everybody here at OTF is a person. Sometimes I think we treat each other like ideas instead of people with real life frailties and problems and baggage. People who laugh, people who cry, people who hurt, people with passions.

I know there are a lot of people who are unhappy with OTF right now, one way or another. They don't like the politics, or they don't like the rules, or they don't like the format, or they don't like who's running what. I guess what I'm wondering is, why are you here? Are you here to interact with people? Or are you just futily trying to change an idea?

Sorry, I'll stop being philisophical now. Enjoy this issue!

Bring back the box!

Blue Report Editor

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Change You Can Believe In

Article by Dmitri

I wasn't really supposed to be writing the EC update for this month. Hobbie was. But like any good Frenchman he fobbed it off onto me instead. It is afterall what the French do best. Aside from starting riots and getting invaded once every fifty years. But all prejudice aside, i now have a dilemma. Whatever should i write?

For some bizarre reason the line "when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse" seems horrendously accurate, if we were to substitute "house" for "net-based space station with loony's from every continent" then it would be 100% correct.

I would provide you with updates on the glorious Outpost10f V3 but there are none to give. I am not sure whether to be pleased or nervous. This might just be the deadly silence before the storm.

However, the EC are debating proposals to turn the Outpost into a fully fledged dating service. Mr Kaze will be very pleased. Along with this debate goes the suggestion that the OTF slogan be changed from "space holds no boundaries" to "open all hours". The EC feels this is much more accurate and while it reflects the fact that the outpost never closes it also says something much more profound and deep about its patrons.

The EC would also like to remind everyone about the OTF licensing policy. Although the Outpost does have a 24 hour alcohol licence this is only a suggestion and not a prime directive. The EC will be clamping down on all drink related anti-social behaviour and will be issuing anti-social behaviour orders to anyone not behaving like a good boy or girl. All ISA officers will be able to issue these behaviour orders and if anyone is found in violation of them then a swift slap on the wrist will follow.

On a final note, after many years of complaints the Outpost10f Standards and Priviledges Committee has began to investigate the claim that senior officers routinely abuse their access rights. As a result of this investigation the EC has decided to listen to the membership and has appointed a senior officer, henceforth referred to as the Outpost10f Commissioner on Standards, to oversee the complaints and to prepare a report with suggestions on how to solve the problem. The EC promises to not throw the report in the bin this time.

All complaints to stupidcomplaints@isa.outpost10f.com! And that's all folks!

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Inside ISA With Mezoti

Article by Aleka

Aleka:So, Mezoti, congratulations on being made director of ISA.

Mezoti: Thanks, Aleka. ;-)

Aleka: How do you feel this change has affected your role in Outpost10F?

Mezoti: I look at my actions in a much harsher light than I ever did before.

Aleka: How do you think the changes that have occurred to the outpost has changed your position and that the role of ISA?

Mezoti: The ISA is much smaller now, due to the new 'team format' that is in place. The Outpost also has a much smaller active membership than before, thus we don't need as many ISAers.

Aleka: How do you think your leadership has changed ISA and OTF as a whole?

Mezoti: Honestly, I don't think it has.

Aleka: Now, I know the story, but how about you tell us about how the "Paper Air Plane" got named?

Mezoti: Iain was talking to AJ Cardall when AJ was at my house many years ago (May 2006). At the time, Iain was making a new armory function and needed a name for it. At this moment my little brother shot a paper airplane at AJ, hence the 'Paper Air Plane'.

Aleka: The ISA slogan has been "Ready for Anything" for a long time, what's your personal ISA motto?

Mezoti: Absit invidia ;-)

Aleka: Can you give us a little background on the different team names for security? Since the merger do you think you'll be changing names?

Mezoti: When the departmental managing system is changed to a team system, there will be no individual teams in ISA. Honestly, they didn't really make sense to me back in the day - so why keep them?

Aleka: Do you find that members look up to you and your team members? What type of example do you think you set for new members?

Mezoti: I sincerely hope that people look at ISA to set an example for others. I'm not sure if that's how it really is, but that is my hope.

Aleka: Since ISA doesn't accept applications, what types of things do you look at when recruiting new members?

Mezoti: First most: a cool head in troubling situations. Everything after that is secondary to someone who can control their temper in situations where it doesn't need to be there.

Aleka: Thank you so much for agreeing to be interviewed Mezoti, I hope that this will give members a closer look into ISA.
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Into The Blue: Mysteries

Article by Bria

... in which Eagle is surprised, Polson is very grouchy, and something is apparently going on.


He eventually found Hobbie in the last place that anyone would have suspected: his office. The pilot-turned-Supreme-Chancellor was sitting at his desk and actually looked like he was doing work. He looked up when Eagle entered and frowned, looking confused.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Hmm?" Eagle realised that his mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it. "Ah, nothing. Are you all right?"

"Fine," Hobbie said, still looking at Eagle suspiciously. The same suspicion was probably evident on his own face, Eagle figured. Hobbie Klivian was doing what looked like work, in his office, and it wasn't even Christmas or any other time when there were relatives to be avoided. There had to be something wrong.

"Right," Eagle said. He remembered why he had come, and grinned. He sat down in front of the desk and looked at Hobbie. "Got something for you."

Hobbie raised his eyebrows. "Oh yes?"

Eagle handed him the datacard with a flourish. "'s on there."

"Huh." The pilot took the card and inserted it into his datapad. Brin climbed out of Eagle's hoodie and wandered over to Hobbie, inspecting his hands and the paperwork cluttering the surface of the desk.

When she started eating the budget draft, Hobbie tried to shoo her away. "Seriously, Eagle," he said. "Did you have to name her after Bria and Mezoti? I think she's channelling both of them and I'm the favourite victim!"

Eagle just laughed.

Moments later, the data had appeared on Hobbie's screen and his eyes widened. "What's this all about?"

"Remember the X-Wings I owe you guys?" Eagle grinned.

"This isn't X-Wings!" Hobbie exclaimed. "It's –"

"Yep," Eagle said. "But it's all legit." He indicated the small case he was holding.

"Are you serious?" Hobbie demanded.

Eagle only nodded.

Hobbie's face broke into a grin. "This should be good. We need to do something with this."

"I quite agree," Eagle said, saving Hobbie's papers from Brin and keeping hold of the kitten.

"Come on," Hobbie said. He stood up, his work forgotten. "Let's find Bria."


Finding Bria was far easier than finding Hobbie, especially when she was angry. You just followed the shouting.

And then you waited until it had died down before you actually went to see her. Unless you were Hobbie and Eagle, in which case you knocked on her door anyway.

"What?" Bria snapped. The door swooshed open. "Oh, it's you. Come on in."

Her quarters were a study in chaos – and islands of aesthetic pleasure where the chaos hadn't reached. Mostly, that was the walls.

Eagle shook his head. "No, we need to show you something."

"Hmm?" she said. "What?"

"Something," Hobbie said. He moved to tug at her arm, remembered the shouting, and thought better of it. "You'll like it."

"Y'know," Bria said thoughtfully, "you'll forgive me if "we need to show you something" coming from Eagle and Hobbie doesn't exactly fill me with confidence. Especially not if they claim that I'll like it."

"You liked the kitten, didn't you?" Eagle challenged.

"Oh, yeah. Fine. Once."

"Let's make it twice," Hobbie offered. He grinned. "Or are you scared?"

"Pfft," she said irritably. "All right then."

Eagle and Hobbie exchanged a glance and a smirk, and Eagle led the way down to the docking bay.


"I'm bored," SG complained. He sat near the bar, idly swivelling on his chair, a pouty look on his face. "Boooored!"

No one said anything. Polson coughed. Shadow drummed his fingers on the table. Wedge exhaled noisily. SG seemed to grow annoyed with the lack of response.

"Bored!" He said it louder that time. "Lads! I'm bored!"

"We heard you the first time!" Shadow shot back.

"Well, do something! I need help here!"

"Too late for you," Polson commented, made more irritable than usual by the boredom, and the fact that she shared said boredom with SG.

SG shot her a hurt look. "Your words, they wound me!"

The door to the Cantina slid open, and someone stood outline against the light outside, posing heroically. Polson sighed.

"Did someone call for help?" a masculine voice called.

SG shot to his feet. "Wow! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a cardboard cutout of Boba Fett? No! It's Majin Kaze!"

"ShutupSGyou'reonlygoingtoencouragehimagain," Polson muttered under her breath. She didn't even gasp for breath afterwards, despite firing a sentence out in form of one word, which filled her with pride. A pride which was multiplied when she noticed that the others seemed quite impressed.

"Yes, it's me!" Majin called, ruining her moment. "Did someone call me?"

Shadow jerked a thumb at SG. "He said he needs help. Says he's bored. Can't save him from boredom, can you?"

Majin had taken a few steps towards them by now, and looked crestfallen. "Save him from boredom? Here? I'm not that good."

"Any ideas what we could do?" SG pleaded.

Majin shrugged. Then he asked, "Where's Iain?"

"Busy." SG made the word sound like he was referring to a particularly distasteful insect.


"Working." That one sounded like a whole hive of distasteful insects.

Majin looked put out. "Ewww."


"Well, where's everyone else? The place is dead!" There were nods all around.

"Heard Bria yelling at someone earlier," Wedge offered. "That's about it, though."

From outside the Cantina – Majin had forgotten to close the door, which in Polson's grouchy opinion was typical – came the sound of footsteps. They seemed to be running. And coming closer. Seconds later, Lzrman burst into the Cantina, meeting frowns all around.

"Guys!" he called, even though he was right in front of his audience. His voice seemed to be tripping over in excitement. "You have to come see this!"

"See what?" Polson asked, grouchily observing that Lzrman hadn't closed the door either.

"Just come on!"

"Ah, come on, guys," Majin said. "Might as well have a look. Gotta be better than just sitting around here."

"True," Shadow said. "Would have to be really lame to be even more boring than this."

SG tugged at Polson's arm, and they followed Lzrman down along the corridors of the outpost. Her mood improved slightly as they walked, and she felt a small twinge of excitement inside, despite herself.


Comments, suggestions, and general abuse can be dumped here! Come on, people.
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OTF Blues: Hostage Negotiations

Article by Polson

This is based on a real msn conversation between Dmitri and I. He really did try to sell me Wolf Brother, and I really did only offer him three pennies. It was hilarious. I wanted to share the moment with you all.

[Enlarge comic in a new window.]

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The REAL story behind Star Wars... part XIX

Article by Queen of the Universe


KypDBacca settles into the pilot's chair and starts the mighty engines of the starship by hitting the ignition switch with a spanner.


Osiris, Ma-Jin, Deepio, and Ajay move toward the Millennium Falcon passing Hobbie, all this despite having just passed him in the last-but-one scene. It's a small deja-vu, indicating a glitch in the Matrix, please prepare for a girly, bullet-time fight.

How's it hanging? ... I mean, hello, Sir.


Eight Imperial stormtroopers rush up in dance formation to the darkly clad, not at all sinister creature.

Like, dude with the papier maché snout, which way?

The darkly clad (in case you've forgotten, he's sinister, too) creature points to the door of the docking bay and makes a squeaky sound by squeezing a small hamster.

Righteous! My fellow dudes, load your weapons, like, now I guess. Whoah, if we pull this off I say we hit the dunes for some gnarly sand surfing!


The troops hold their guns and surfboards at the ready and charge down the docking bay entrance with frightening synchronisation and the occasional hip shimmy.

Yo to the pizza type ship! Like, stop already!

Hobbie Solo looks up and sees the Imperial stormtroopers rushing into the docking bay like a herd of breath mints. Several of the troopers fire at Hobbie as he ducks into the spaceship. Luckily, they miss, which only proves that the bad guys hire people who can't shoot straight under pressure.

Blast 'em... um, I mean... blast 'em again, but, fer sure, this time try aiming to his left, maybe then we'll hit him!

Hobbie draws his laser pistol on a piece of paper before pulling his weapon from the holster. He pops off a couple of shots that force the stormtroopers to dive for safety, proving that the good guys can't shoot straight under pressure, either. In fact, Hobbie can only hit bad guys at very close range, hence managing to take out old hooter mouth in the cantina. The pirate ship engines whine as Hobbie hits the release button that slams the overhead entry shut, though really, he should have just gone up the ramp.


Kyppy, get us out of here! They're aiming wildly at my head!

The group straps in for take off. Yay for seatbelts in a starship! Honestly, who would build a spacecraft without them... that would be dumb...

Oh, my. I'd forgotten how much I hate space travel, where is my soothing sounds of the sea program?


The half-dozen stormtroopers at a burger palace hear the general alarm and look to the sky as the huge trash can lid rises above the dingy slum dwellings and quickly disappears into the morning sky. One places his green Hutt shake back on the counter and slowly backs away.


Hobbie climbs into the pilot's chair next to KypDBacca, who chatters away, pointing to something on the radar scope before hitting shuffle on her iPod.


The Corellian pirate ship zooms from Tatooine into space with a whoosh and the tinny sound of New Jawas on the block.


Hobbie frantically types information into the ship's computer using Word. Little Ajay appears momentarily at the cockpit doorway, makes a few beeping remarks about Open Office, then rolls away as the ship tilts.

It looks like an Imperial Tortilla chip. Our passengers must be hotter than I thought. Gah, I should have sold them on Ebay! Fine, try and hold them off. Angle the satellite dish to receive Sky while I make the calculations for the jump to light speed. Where's my abacus?!


The Millennium Falcon pirate ship (arr me hearties!) races away from the yellow planet, Tatooine. It is followed by two huge Imperial Tortilla chips and a Dip ship.


Over the shoulders of KypDBacca and Hobbie, we can see the galaxy spread before them (facing forward, otherwise we get a nice view of the hallway and the emergency toilet door). Osiris and Ma-Jin make their way into the cramped cockpit, despite the seatbelt light remaining lit, where Hobbie continues his calculation by flipping the beads on his abacus and mumbling about variables.

Stay sharp! There are two more coming in; they're going to try to cut us off in three dimensional space...

Why don't you outrun them? Or maybe go down, or up? Anyway, I thought you said this thing was fast.

Watch your mouth, kid, or you're going to find yourself flushed out of the emergency toilet door. We'll be safe enough once we make the jump to hyperspace. Besides, I know a few maneuvers. Up and down? Pah! I know diagonal! We'll lose them!


Imperial Tortilla chips fire at the pirateship with their forward cannons and ready their harpoons. Arrr!


The ship shudders as an explosion flashes outside the window. The bad guys with the big guns can't hit the broad side of a barn, just to continue the trend of sharpshooting incompetence.

Here's where the fun begins! ROFLMAO with abacus.

How long before you can make the jump to light speed? Would it help if we did some adding on our fingers?

It'll take a few moments to get the co-ordinates from the navi-computer. I knew I should have upgraded from SpaceWindows 98!

The ship begins to rock violently as lasers hit the parts of the ship that are expendable.

Are you kidding? At the rate they're gaining? Do you even have a dual core processor?

Traveling through hyperspace isn't like dusting crops, boy! For one, there aren't any plants! Without precise calculations via my wooden frame of beads we could fly right through a star or bounce too close to a supernova - even one that hasn't happened yet - and that'd end your trip real quick, wouldn't it? You, you... annoying person you!

The ship is now constantly battered with laserfire as a red warning light begins to flash.

What's that flashing?

We're losing our rear bumper! Go strap yourself back in unless you want to be plastered against the wall like silly putty, I'm going to make the jump to light speed.

The galaxy brightens and they move faster, almost as if crashing a barrier. Stars become streaks as the pirate ship makes the jump to hyperspace.



The Millennium Falcon zooms into infinity in less than a second. So... a nanosecond maybe?

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