Peter Kavanagh padded along the dismal, empty halls of a semi-dormant Atlantis, feeling totally pissed off after an early knockout from an Atlantis/Daedalus chess tourney which, coupled with intergalactic jet lag, made sleep or even some semblance thereof virtually impossible. Even an hour or so later, he was still too wired to hit the sack, and as ( Read more... )

“Why… are you doing this ( Read more... )