“I see; that’s fair enough. Very well; another fifty thousand added to the initial deposit, available immediately.”
Quick decision; no consulting anyone. That meant he was my principal; either that or he was a person so highly trusted it made no difference. More importantly, he wasn’t government. No bureaucrat ever forks over money without whining.
We fenced a bit more for the look of the thing, then shook hands. I took the case and went out the way I came.
There was a light in a ground-floor study, the flicker of a fireplace. Solid construction; the floors didn’t squeak and the door opened silently. My employer didn’t look up from the papers he was studying at an old-fashioned desk; I decided not to bother him. I went over and sat in a comfortable-looking chair, trying to look like I’d been there all along. I gently cleared my throat.
The effect was all I could have hoped for. His eyes bugged as he stared at me. “H-how–?!” he gasped.
In my line of work, it’s all about making a good first impression.
“Unhand her, you brutes! I’ll have you know, that is no way to treat a lady!”
I knew that accent from my Militia days — a Confederate! This was about to get political — and no place for the likes of me. Carmody was still distracted with his capture; trouble getting the cuffs on, looked like. I didn’t stick around to watch.
My brother-in-law is a Lieutenant Colonel in the Canadian Armed Forces. When a disaster (natural or otherwise) occurs in the world, Canada sends aid; and so, my brother-in-law is often among the first on the ground. He specializes in fuel calculations, equipment distribution, and the surveying of travel routes. It is likely that he choses which type of toilet paper is required for each situation, but in the end, it is all logistics and one of the most crucial positions in the military.
It was a dark night in Founder’s Landing, capital city of the Republic back in the olden days when there actually was a Republic. Now it was just another population center, the hulks of decaying and long-unused civic architecture bulking vaguely in the gloom.
At night it was always dark, here on the edge of the nebula known as the Lesser Ephebian Cloud. Only four stars near enough to be visible in the galactic murk and no moon to speak of, just a space station. Most people didn’t care, though; what with the curfew in place, no respectable Citizen would be out on the streets at this hour anyway. Not that I was all that respectable, but with my hat on I could pass — in a dim light.
Last month we hinted at a followup to our exclusive first interview with Joshua. Today, we can finally announce that the rumor is true: We’ve got solid answers on some of the most pressing questions of the day.
(Much like the first Inside Scoop, the following has been condensed from a lengthy email chain. Just imagine we’re all in a comfy studio with nice cups of tea and a plate of those shortbread cookies you can only get at this time of the year, hanging out and chilling. -Editor)
Gathering military intelligence in the game of Planets
When it comes to the most important aspects of Planets strategy, most players talk about diplomacy, tactics, and economy. These skills are certainly of great importance, but in this article, I would like to suggest there is a more important talent which underlies them all: gathering information.
There is something terrifying about having a warship show up at your door on Turn 7. If you did not see it coming, your empire is in grave danger. At the very least, you will be crippled for a long time and have to beg for help from other players. This early-game maneuver is known as “The Headshot”, and – if it wasn’t obvious – the goal is to remove your head.
This tactic can be prevented by a variety of actions, but perhaps the strongest defense – or at least it is the boldest – is to axe down your neighbour’s door before they come calling. To do that, you need to know the location of your enemy’s homeworld. Here’s how: