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@SlimeBird Later that day...

Shots fired, Fat Malvor

I jumped into space station 13 as a grey tide when oney put up his playthrough of the game. I bounced from station to station till I found I liked the layout of Paradise station. I never change my name/character. You may have seen me as Willy Powers. I'm glad to finally have contributed as a patron to help keep this server alive as I struggle to figure out how to actually grab people and hack doors...

Also, I can't believe I forgot to put my favorite character art I've done on the forums lmao

Sol-Oorm-La has a good bad day. [00:00] Hhhh. The shuttle ride is bumpy. Everyone else smells. You get used to it, in the same way one gets used to arthritis. Painful. Unpleasant. An unavoidable part of Nanotrasen Employment. [00:03] Tayata is not here. AGAIN. My little parakeet is out on special assignment, doing work in another solar system. It's likely not Nanotrasen, considering her name won't bring anything up in security records anymore. A waste of chloroform that adventure was. [00:05] There is the grey. James? It had a weird name. Likely why I remember it. It was at our wedding. Flatulent. We carved it to seal our ceremony. It squealed like a Jlorm out of water. The cloner didn't remove the scar. ... [00:10] It has passed wind again. Everyone is being polite and pretending they did not hear it. That is stupid. [00:11] James is crying. It is overly sensitive. Greys are not capable of growing tumor cultures. It was an empty threat. - [00:18] Hhhhh. We've arrived. NSS Cyberiad. Would it kill them to accommodate us? Vox within stuffy masks and I have to deal with the unbearable heat and humidity. Humans may lounge in their hot boiling atmosphere like maggots, but some of us require sanitary temperatures. Regardless, It is time for my job assignment. [00:19] Head of Personal. Is this a joke? It must be. Paperwork is a massive pustule on the body of a functioning employee. To enable it is to spread a disease willingly. I cannot write galactic common at an advanced level. Nanotrasen is either hiring me out of incompetence, or punishing me for the leg thievery incident. I suspect both. [00:20] The usual suspects line up. The human who wants to explore the gateway. The likely murderer wishing for security access. The mime... being there. He has not moved for about a minute now, and his breath is fogging up the access line window. [00:25] I have completed the majority of requests. The rest can have card changes another time. I am sick of their stench. [00:25] Peace and quiet. While I far prefer the chill and carpet-less touch of the operating room tiles under my toes, the soundproofing makes up for what this office lacks in taste. [00:29] ... [00:31] ... [00:33] I am bored. [00:38] So far security has done their usual route of incompetence. The overfunded growth of this station has falsely arrested a clown for a slipping spree, which was actually the fault of the janitor. It is hardly surprising. In other news, there is no news. [00:39] I have gone to the bridge. The place stinks of caffeine and sugar as usual. The captain is talking to the representative. Some debacle involving lube. Likely discussing fornication. It is easy to tune out humans, but the representative's bubbling and popping is irregular enough that it's jarring. Slime people truly are designed in all the worst ways. No bones, no organs - Their cut off limbs don't sell well either. I'm fairly certain they're the anthesis of Nanotrasen's motto; To annoy me and make my job difficult with other organisms. Once I made myself known, they whined that I needed to 'finish my job'. Neither of THEM were doing anything. The only job of a captain is to provide entertainment for the strange cult that sits in front of the bridge. The representative is just here to make up rules to stop people having fun. Neither of them have the slightest understanding of hard work. It's been nearly forty minutes and I haven't been cloned once due to self-inflicted wounds. Dying of boredom is more entertaining, and messier. Perhaps it'd make the janitor do their job. [00:40] This is awful. I cannot STAND this. A cyborgification contract. So many WORDS. all in their grubby little language. Would it kill galactic common to include frequncitones? The language is so blocky and meandering. It barely describes anything and you have to assume the majority of the meaning based on whatever brain-dead cretin handed it to you. I'll give it my stamp, I'm sure it's fine. They're a civilian anyway, the most they'd be otherwise is half-time entertainment. [00:42] Done. Additionally, I've purchased the captain's soap from him. It was cheap. Free. [00:43] The captain DOES NOT TAKE BATHS. He cannot insist that this 'valuable property'. [00:45] Apparently the captain has taken one bath, for the dopamine rush and 'thrill of it'. Knowing this, I have relinquished the soap. I expect this incident to haunt me for some time. I would remove the taste with fine cuisine, but the chef is only making omelets. I cannot understand Earthen cuisine. Why are is it so specific on when a fetus must be eaten? They gain less nutrition while it's small. [00:46] Back to my job. Which is to sit here, and look at the quartermaster. they are on the ground next to a clown. The clown is laughing. This shift is dull. [01:20] I have woken up. Apparently there was a murder. Importantly though, I can hear a scratching underneath the carpet of this office. If it is terror spiders, I will at least be of use to something this shift. [01:20] It is a mouse. [01:21] Mouse. carriers of disease. Underrated, as far as applications go. A mouse is the perfect mammal. Useful for testing. Displays similar behavior patterns to humans. Can chew through keratin, fur and skin. But it is unfortunately not useful to me when I am stuck babysitting the incompetent who are unable to sign a simple job waiver. Oh look, it is drooling onto the carpet. Truly, a perfect example of the crowning intelligence of mammals. [01:22] Something is wrong with this mouse. It has large growths sagging off it. They are not tumors- the skin tissue is all wrong. They appear similar to boils, but the smell is strongly sulphuric. It may be a new disease! [01:22] Time to investigate. [01:23] It attempted to run into the bridge. I am taller. I am faster. It did not escape. A dissection will reveal your secrets, little rodent. [01:28] The captain gave me an odd look. Something akin to disgust and bewilderment. Perhaps he is constipated. Human bowel functions are poorly designed. They'll dye their hair but not straighten their rectum, another sign of their inconsistent values and priorities. Bah! Hopeless. Now for my fun. [01:30] I have taken a knife from the kitchen. The chef was missing. Won't be missed. A race that deep fries earthen vegetables clearly needs a few centuries Darwinism to sort itself out. [01:30] The first slice was unexpected. The second I cut into the thick oily coating surrounding the growths, they exploded. Fortunately it doesn't appear to be acidic, despite initial projections. It appears that the growths had some sort of tendril-like system wrapped around the animal's spinal cord. Fungal in origin? [01:31] The structure is all wrong for this to be a fungus. I can practically feel my heart thumping behind my eyes, threatening to rattle out of my mantle. FOCUS! A precise cut prevents poor performance. - [01:38] I have finished dissecting the rodent. I would have cut further down the abdomen, but the growths ended at the lumbar spine. I'll investigate the lower regions for abnormalities later. This growth system is far more elaborate then I initially projected- there appears to be some sort of chemical injection via pseudopods into the brain- the growth uses the rat's own muscles to control it. It seems that it either replicates or reprograms the muscles to pump the excess blood containing these chemicals into the brain. This is clearly a short-lived parasite, the excessive pressure and blood would likely cause a hemorrhagic stroke within hours. How does such a developed and deeply ingrained infection develop so quickly? The nutrients and resources it would need to replicate and expand into the rodent's body do not correlate with the projected lifespan the rodent would have post-infection. I will need to cross-reference brain rot. If we're lucky an infection will break out soon for a fresh sample. [01:39] Curse the physical body. An incredible apparatus to be endlessly modified. The only toll it takes is food- but a toll none the less. Why must my work be interrupted by these pangs? I cannot focus if my hypothalamus continues to complain. But the food the chef created.. those foul concoctions. Revolting. And it's unlikely the medical bay has fresh samples for consumption. [01:40] I am growing desperate. The gnawing has become unbearable. My dearest Tayata. the only creature of which cannot be perfected. I hope you are enjoying yourself at your job- you likely are. It is difficult to make you unhappy. Otherwise we would not be married, if my hypothesis is correct- the pain, it is unbearable. There are no options other then my cyanide implants. [01:40] Unless... [01:42] I have equipped myself with my gun and will use this chair as a shield. The captain is the only one in the bridge. Hopefully Nanotrasen will understand my resort to cannibalism, given the dire circumstances. [01:42] Wait. [01:42] Did I pre-pay my company insurance? [01:42] A thousand dead stars! If I die the warranty expires. [01:42] But if I eat the captain...Wait. [01:42] The rat specimen. So much unfound potential. A new disease with incredible new properties. It could be sold for so much. And yet, the aroma is so tantalizingly fresh now. Even the yellow pustules give it a healthy, finely aged look. What am I willing to do in the name of science? [01:43] I have decided that I am not willing to die in the name of science. I'm sorry, future Sol. Rent will not be easy next month. [01:47] It was deceiving, in the way that all earthen food is. The bitter aftertaste gave way to warm, chunky flesh. It burns my mouth, and yet I will starve without nourishment. And I am at least certain it is better then the omelets. Another discovery of science, lost to space and the digestive system. [01:47] THE REPRESENTATIVE WAS THERE. [01:49] WHY WAS SHE IN MY OFFICE!? I haven't broken a single standard operating procedure this hour. And clearly from the captain's behavior, lack of interest or incompetence is CLEARLY not a factor. Synthetics may be void of hunger, but they seem to be void of reason. It was a dire circumstance. [01:50] Appendix-grown fetuses, she's still going. She's not even mad about the discovery lost. Idiot. If it were me, I'd be ripping myself apart to find the dissected sample. Were it not for my own pesky self-preservation instincts, I'd already be gouging out my upper third intestine. And yet her concerns are HYGIENE. SANITARY. She is a SYNTHETIC. WHY DOES IT BOTHER HER!? [01:51] I have been let off with a warning. A very dull, long warning. While there is no consequence for my job and rank, I do not want to be caught again. It is hard to look like you are listening to something that you cannot operate on, because there is no true incentive for co-operation. But I must keep my placement here. Space trade organs are expensive. This rat is irritating my intestinal tract, I believe. It is unpleasant. [01:59] The pain of hunger cannot compare to this. My intestinal tract is compressing and contracting as though I have ingested chili. It is agony. I am used to physical pain. The parasite could not have survived the dissection. It is impossible. And even if it did, the chance of it adapting to a Hoorlm-born specimen is.. highly improbable. [02:08] I am going to die. My warranty is going to expire, and I am going to have to perform secretary duties to keep my pod. Let the cloning bay malfunction, so I am not subjected to this hell after rebirth. Perhaps the wizened are right. We should not have abandoned our spiritual rites at Hoorlm. [02:10] [AUTOMATED LOG]: THE EMERGENCY SHUTTLE HAS BEEN CALLED AT 2:10] [02:11] Central Command. If I can make it there, I can get to my self-performance kit. If I can't remove the parasite, I'll just remove my parietal lobe. I can live without object permanence. It'll be fine. [02:12] I've made it onto the shuttle. The captain appears to be covered in a lubricant, and has been strapped into the command chair with tape. I could only make out a few words beneath this wave of agony. Something about clowns and butter. The captain appears to be in a state of shock. [02:15] The lurch of the shuttle's done it. Whatever the pain was, it's finally go - INCIDENT REPORT-#818 Two hours and fifteen minutes [12:20, LOCAL STAR ROTATION] into shift #4804 aboard the NSS CYBERIAD emergency shuttle #14, a level 5 biohazard was identified and spotted by command staff. This biohazard originated from the body of Sol-Oorm-La, temporary Head of Personnel relief and registered employee. Upon the biohazard being visually identified, Captain K'lark of Clan Kuzzczack attempted to destroy the biohazard with an energy gun, but was rendered unconscious due to hitting his head on the command console. This was later found due to his entire person being coated in clown butter (SEE INCIDENT REPORT #819). K'lark's acting Blueshield (Jamie Gulivner, rank 37) Responded swiftly and neutralized the biohazard with their own energy gun. The body of Sol-Oorm-La was later cloned at Central Command. Captain K'lark of Clan Kuzzczack issued a statement for the report to central command, claiming it was "The second worst thing that's happened to me." Further investigation has found no syndicate involvement, and the incident is marked as closed.