Keroman

Ha, I didn't even realize that was a thing, Spaceman. If we could implement that it would probably fill the role of my idea pretty much how I was expecting.

Right off the bat I'm going to admit that this is a ripoff of the cortical borer antag (which I honestly have yet to see in my month or so of playing?) plus a touch of the Trill from Star Trek and the Goa'uld from Stargate. I think it would be interesting to have a race that functions only when paired with another race. Hosts would have to be organic, of course, but could potentially be of any race that falls into that category. I mean, I can think of several pairs of players who spend all their time with each other anyways (kek) I figure it would work in a similar manner to the borers where the parasite can provide certain benefits to the host, but at the same time the host may have to make accommodations for the parasite as well, possibly working off of the nutrition system. Potential benefits: - Parasite can quickly heal the host's most injured body part. I imagine this functioning similar to a changeling's Regenerative Stasis ability but on a limited scale. (DOES NOT REGROW LOST LIMBS) - Parasite can remove toxin damage from the host and apply that damage to itself. This could keep the host stable long enough to get to medbay, or to have a doctor meet them somewhere with the appropriate remedy for said toxin damage. - Parasite and host have separate nutrition values. Host needs to provide nutrition in some way then the parasite draws off of that. If the host is in need of nutrition the parasite could then return some of that nutrition to, for instance, get them out of 'red' hunger status so they aren't moving super slowly. Potential drawbacks: - Once a player is host to a parasite they can no longer survive without a parasite. If the parasite is removed and placed in a new host the original host dies after X number of minutes. Likewise if the host has their parasite removed and another parasite implanted then the original parasite dies unless they are placed into a new host. - Parasite takes double toxin damage. - Parasite cannot be revived by normal means. Cloning works on a host but not on a parasite. - Cannot receive genetic enhancements. The parasite is bonded to the host at the DNA level. If the host's DNA is significantly altered in any way the bond is broken. - Viral infections - including those with beneficial effects - cause toxin damage to the parasite over time until the virus is cured. Can be mitigated with regular doses of antitoxins. - A parasite outside of a host moves extremely slowly, cannot enter a new host without assistance. Other notable game mechanics: - Parasite can take control of the host at any time. Parasite can speak at any time whether in control of the host or not. When the parasite speaks it shows up in the text log as coming from the host, but in a different style (bolded or something to otherwise differentiate the parasite from the host when speaking.) Would be funny to see someone walking down the hall having a conversation with themselves. - Parasite who are to be brigged could potentially be placed in monkeys. This opens up the whole can of worms regarding whether or not the host is responsible for what the parasite does and vice versa. Of course I think it would mostly end up with the host serving time alongside the parasite regardless of his or her complicity in committing a crime. - Parasites cannot be borged. - Potentially Robotics could construct something like the pAI mobile chassis which could support a parasite until a host could be found? Would also grant some measure of independence. ----- I'm honestly just spitballing here, but I think there could be a niche for a non-humanoid races that can still function as crew. It might be neat for antagonist parasites to carry over their objective from one host to the next, so if one outlives it's usefulness it could kill off the original host and then pretend the host got attacked by a vampire or something so that they can be transferred to a new host. This would likely take a lot of extra code to function, although I imagine a little could be modified from the cortical borer antag. Go ahead and start up the usual rants about balance and such.

I know that technically the HoP is the "department head" for Cargo/Mining but it would be nice if the QM had a handheld crew monitor for locating miners in his office. As it is the only real authority QM has about anything is whether or not to order something for someone and even then he can generally be overruled by any department head. Aside from that he's just a glorified Cargo Tech who happens to have mining access.

Okay, I had to type this entire story out like 3 goddamn times, first because a power outage shut the computer down just a few minutes before I was planning on posting it, then because the forum decided to log me out while I was finishing up and pressing the back button didn't work like it had in the past. So if it seems a little rough and poorly written it's because I just wanted to get it done and posted. Sorry about that. The round where all this stuff happened was kind of a weird one, but it was nice to get a chance to RP a little more about Max dealing with his shit. Thanks to Steve Mason for being a cool player. I'm pretty sure he got my Karma that round. The part where he gets attacked by Drake (the other prisoner in permabrig) happened because Steve went SSD after bringing me in. I know it's a HUGE no-no to mess with SSD sec officers so I ahelped it which I hope is the reason the other Sec officers came so quickly. I'm not sure why I started getting a fever but it worked out well enough. I also forget who was EVA at the window trying to bust me out only to be interrupted by the Brig Phys showing up at the most inopportune time. It was fun to watch all that go down.

I would say that if we're going to talk about allowing pAIs to have more control over the game world we should take a look at other roles that players can spawn in as from observation/ghost mode. Top of the list for having some ability to affect the game world would be a posi-brain set up as an AI. That seems like a pretty rare occurrence to me, and for good reason. A step down from that I would classify posi-brain cyborgs as well as adamantine golems. They can both affect the game world in just about the same way that a normal player can albeit with some restrictions (module restrictions and slaved to AI for borgs/slaved to owner for Golems) One more step down from that and you have things like maintenance drones, pAIs, and diona nymphs, and animals. They can have a minor effect on the game but with a larger number of restrictions than cyborgs or golems. If we gave pAIs the ability to control consoles it would put them somewhere between tier 3 (drones/current pAIs/nymphs) and tier 2 (borgs/golems). Since a pAI is generally meant as an assistant to the person who activated it I would say it's probably not necessary for them to be able to actively control a console, but as I said before in this thread giving them the ability to see the console and what their "owner" is doing on it is absolutely essential for them to fulfill their role as an assistant. I'm also very much of a mind that pAIs should be able to drag objects (maybe just smaller objects but not things that wouldn't fit into a backpack). Poly can pick stuff up (feathery asshole that he is). As far as I'm aware other animals (Runtime, Ian, etc.) can pull objects behind them. It would very much make sense for pAIs to be able to do the same.

Whispers work if the pAI is in their mobile chassis form, although it would definitely make more sense if it just worked whether the pAI was mobile or not, so long as it's in the same square or within 1 square of the person whispering, just like whispering to other players works.

With the murmur of the shuttle bay lounge all around him it was difficult for Maxwell to concentrate on reading his book. One of the things he had come to both appreciate and despite about being Tajaran was the more detailed sense of hearing. Now it only served to distract him. Even in the quietest corner of the lounge, with a dozen or so seats separating him from any of the other waiting passengers he picked up bits and pieces of conversation. It had been strange few weeks. Ever since his accident his friends had gradually distanced themselves - or was it him that had pulled away from them? - he had spoken to his mom only once via telecomms and had lied to her about the video function on his console not working. Even then she had wondered why he sounded so strange. That was three weeks ago. Despite the fact that there were plenty of other species living in the Central Command megastation it was still clear that Humans made up the vast majority. To suddenly find himself excluded from that group was like having his world turned upside down. Even the few Tajarans he had met had seemed to realize he was different from them. He sighed and reached under his seat to place his book back in his backpack, and as he sat up he was at least a little surprised to see a man standing just a few feet in front of him. He very briefly wondered at the fact that he hadn't heard anyone approach when the man spoke, "Mr. Edison, I take it?" The man gave a sly smile. Some people could make a smile like that look friendly, but with his close-cropped black hair, his narrow chin, and the odd fact that he was wearing sunglasses indoors, the man's smile seemed to mock Maxwell. Still, if nothing else, Max was raised to be polite. "Yes...?" he replied, "Uh, how can I help you?" Max lifted his backpack into his lap as if it were some sort of shield that could keep him safe from this intruder into his life. "I represent a group who has taken an interest in you as of late," no big surprise there. Since the incident at the virology conference almost a month ago now Max had been of great interest to quite a few people, many of whom seemed to know quite a bit about him even if he had never seen them before in his life. "Okay.. and, uh.. I'm sorry, how can I help you?" Max repeated himself. "Oh you misunderstand, Mr. Edison. It is I who wish to help you." The man slipped a hand into the pocket of his black vest, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He opened it up and held it out to Max who immediately recognized the format. It was a printout from a virus analyzer. Several words had been marked by a yellow highlighter: Kingston Syndrome STAMM #4945 - Persistent Strain Antibodies detected in blood sample. The realization of what he was looking at hit Maxwell like a punch to the gut, "Y-you have a cure?! Where? HOW?" Maxwell had been taking his low-dose radium pills every day to no avail. Every morning he woke up and, like clockwork, took the pill with a glass of water he had set by his bed the night before. In the evening he would prepare another glass of water with the next day's pill, and every night as he settled down in bed his hope for a cure dwindled a little more. But now he was being shown proof that this man could make him human again. The man held up a hand to quiet Maxwell, "Ah, I'm afraid that information - and the cure - have their price." In a single fluid motion the man folded the paper and tucked it into his vest again only to retrieve, from the same pocket, a PDA. He held it out in offering to Max, "On your shuttle ride to the NSS Cyberiad type in the code 318 Delta. Do as you are instructed and when you return at the end of your shift I will contact you about getting you the cure for your.. condition." Another punch to the gut. Maxwell had heard stories about people being approached like this. Shady men lurking about, approaching crew members and bribing or threatening them to coerce them into doing terrible things. But if there was a cure.. would it be worth it? Max took the PDA, looking at the colorful plastic case and the flawless, perfectly clean surface of the touchscreen. He tried to find any indication that it was somehow different from the one already in his pocket, but short of the different color it looked perfectly normal. He looked up, his mind racing with question after question, only to see the mysterious man already pushing through the nearest exit. The fellow certainly had impeccable timing, as at that moment the announcement came over the PA: "Crew shuttle now boarding. Departure for NSS Cyberiad in 15 minutes." Max slipped the PDA carefully into his own pocket, handling it as if it could explode at any second - and for all he knew from the stories he had heard, it very much could. He lined up with the rest of the waiting crew and made his way onto the shuttle, once again finding a more secluded seat in the corner. With his backpack in his lap, as if to hide his clandestine activities from others, Maxwell pulled out the PDA and activated it. The screen lit up and showed a normal interface, if a little lacking in personal touches. It prompted him to touch his ID card, and when he did it quickly downloaded his profile from his home console. Within seconds the screen had rearranged and redesigned itself to match his regular PDA. Cautiously curious Maxwell opened the messenger function, then the settings for said function. On the input screen for entering a new message ringtone Maxwell typed in the code the man had told him, 318 Delta. Immediately the screen flashed to a blank red background. Green text scrolled across the screen in a monotype font: Target: Johnny Law Mr. Law has made himself a nuisance to the wrong sort of people. You are to make an example of him. Break one of his limbs or disfigure his face in some way but above all DO NOT KILL HIM. He will serve as a reminder to others that we are not to be crossed. Maxwell swallowed hard, suppressing a shudder that wanted to pass through him. He was being asked to maim somebody. Someone he'd never met before or who had done him the least bit of harm. He had never been much for violence. Even when he had been attacked in the past he preferred to run and let security handle the situation if possible. But the man who approached him had promised a cure, and this Johnny Law could always get cloned if he was too badly injured. At the end of the message containing his orders Maxwell noticed a set of keywords and response phrases for identifying people who could assist him, as well as a small button labeled "TC". He touched the button and was greeted by a list of equipment available for him to complete his task. These people were using telecrystals? He had heard the things were nearly priceless and here this shadowy organization were prepared to use 20 of them to exact some sort of petty revenge against a man who was, in their own words, "a nuisance." He didn't know for sure who had the means to take a grudge that to such an extreme but if he had to guess this sounded very much like the Syndicate. He shut the PDA off and tucked it back in his pocket, his mind a whirl for the rest of the ride to work. Occasionally he glanced around the shuttle, wondering if this Johnny Law fellow was on board. He didn't even have a description of the man with which to find him, but everyone was required to wear IDs while on board anyways. Disembarking at the arrivals platform Max walked sullenly down the hall. He knew he was supposed to check in with the NT Rep on shift every day but he very much didn't feel up to it today. He had skipped the meetings before without catching any flak and besides, it's not like his condition had changed at all since the last meeting. He walked past the bridge and turned two corners, idled by the bar for a second and considered getting a drink, then continued on until he was standing in front of the Science department. He checked in over the radio as he stepped through the airlock, "Edison here. If nobody else has called it I'll take Xenobiology today." Max always liked Xenobio. The lab was fairly secluded from the rest of the station and the slimes didn't really care if he was Human or Tajaran, they were equally likely to zap him or latch onto him either way. As the last airlock opened to admit him into the lab Maxwell was frightened nearly half to death by the sight of a Xenomorph standing by the lab tables! His initial shock was quickly dismissed when he realized that he was looking at a man in a costume. He recalled seeing this very same costume several times on previous shifts and thinking the crew member wearing to be very eccentric. The man lifted one rubber-clawed hand in greeting, "Oh, hey, didn't know someone else was going to be working Xenobio today. I'll stay out of your way." With his heart still hammering from the surge of adrenaline that had hit it Maxwell replied, "Ah.. it's fine. I mean, it's nice to have someone to help out down here sometimes. I'm Max, by the way. Edison. Maxwell Edison." The costumed man replied politely, "Josiah Young." Max took a few breaths to calm himself and set to work prepping the room. First he moved some of the equipment to the center of the room for easier access. The plasma sheet on the lab table went into the grinder and a clean syringe was placed next to the beaker. The monkey cube boxes were emptied onto the table, and Max tucked a few into his pockets. He unwrapped one monkey cube, stepped over to the sink in the corner to wet it, and watched the horrifyingly fascinating process as the small shape turned gooey and, over the course of several seconds grew into a living breathing monkey. Max lifted the monkey out of the sink and buckled it to the operating table behind him then procured several beakers and another syringe from the lab's supply boxes. Josiah watched over his shoulder as Max began to draw blood from the monkey, emptying the syringe into the beakers and filling them one by one. He knew some other Xenobiologists were fine with using their own blood but Max didn't want to risk using his and potentially exposing others to his condition. Besides, it was really unpleasant to be jabbed with needles over and over, as Max knew all too well. KABOOM Max was suddenly slammed from the side, leaving a searing pain all down the left half of his body! He barely managed to catch himself on the lab table with his free hand. His eyes watered as smoke billowed around him, and when he tried to call for help over the radio he found he couldn't even hear himself speak. Out of nowhere he felt someone grabbing at the back of his labcoat and tugging him. Though he was disoriented he finally realized he was being dragged towards the airlock - it was Josiah that had grabbed him! - and they exited the lab together. As Max tried to rub his eyes he was horrified to find his left hand completely gone, his wrist terminating in a bloody, ragged stump. He took a few panicked breaths and then screamed as the dull numbness of the arm gave way to blinding pain. Josiah, seemingly unharmed by the explosion, hooked an arm under Max's shoulder and around his back and together they limped to Medbay. As it was still early in the shift they were lucky to find the cryo-pods unoccupied. The pain shooting up Maxwell's left arm quickly subsided in the cool Oxygen-Cryoxadone mix that flooded the tube. In less than a minute his wounds were knit and he was let out. The attending nurse injecting Maxwell with occuline which quickly restored his hearing, and finally he was able to ask Josiah, "What the hell happened? M-my hand..." he whimpered, holding up the now-healed stump. Max had never lost a limb before, and while he knew that CentCom Medical had the ability to grow organic replacements it was still an extremely unpleasant experience. Together Josiah and Max made their way to Robotics where a mechanical prosthetic was printed out and strapped to Max's left wrist. They returned to Xenobio to find an engineer already fixing the damage that was done. Josiah pulled Max off to one side and spoke quietly, his voice hushed even more for coming from underneath a xeno mask, "Max, listen, I'm sorry you got caught up in the blast. It was my PDA that exploded. Somebody must be targeting me." Maxwell was perhaps not as stunned by this revelation as he could have been. The keywords on the PDA he had been given, the ones used to identify potential allies, of course there were other people on board with tasks like his own! He should have realized it from the start! He gave a nervous glance at the engineer making repairs at the other end of the room, "Josiah.. I might.. I might be able to help you find the person who targeted you." He laid everything out then - his encounter with the man at the shuttle lounge back on CentCom, the PDA he was given, his objectives, even the keywords to identify other traitors. Josiah seemed reasonably calm about the whole thing, but when Maxwell finished he replied, "Listen, Max, I've seen this guy, Johnny Law. He's been assigned to the Science department too. All I ask is that you leave me out of this. You do what you need to do but I want no part of it." Maxwell gave a heavy sigh. On the one hand he was relieved that his colleague wasn't going to turn him in. On the other hand the man didn't seem to want his help in locating the bomber. Maxwell nodded, "That's fair. I'll.. I'll be back in a little bit." Max passed by the engineer and into the airlock. The door hissed shut behind him and he touched his prosthetic left hand to the outer airlock's panel to open it when a jolt suddenly shocked him. The door had been electrified! He grumbled under his breath about the engineer not fixing things quickly enough, tucked his pained left arm against his body and angrily hammering the "cycle airlock" button to open the door without touching it. He stepped into the small antechamber that made an intersection between Xenobiology, the Chem lab, and the rest of the Science department and retrieved from his backpack the PDA he had been given. Punching in the code to unlock the hidden menu, Max took a closer look at the list of equipment. There were some frightening tools at his disposal, from guns and e-swords to implants that could explode a person with the touch of a button. Max settled on a pair of items that he hoped would help him complete his task quietly: a sleepy-pen and a mindslave implant, pocketing them quickly to keep them out of sight. It was a curious thing that Maxwell didn't like the idea of maiming someone but had absolutely no compunctions about taking away their free will. He figured that if he could get Johnny Law all alone and drug him, then he could implant the man and make him scar himself. There'd be no need for Max to get his own hands dirty, but though he tried to his best to rationalize his plan Maxwell couldn't completely quell the creeping feeling of guilt. As Max stowed the contraband items in the internals box in his backpack he looked into the Chem lab and realized it was empty. He stepped inside and made his way to a Chem dispenser. The Science department regularly used sulfuric acid for use in circuit printers. He knew that stuff could leave some incredibly disfiguring scars and so he whipped up a large beaker-full in just a few seconds. Sulfer, Hydrogen, Oxygen in equal amounts, snap the lid on tight so it doesn't spill, and into the backpack it goes. With his equipment prepared Maxwell decided to look around the Science department to see if he could find his target. It seemed that Maxwell's luck was turning around as he approached the intersection of Robotics, Research, and the RD's office. Though he was reasonably familiar with most of the people who worked in Science there was a man standing at the corner looking confused. Max felt that now-familiar breathless sensation as he saw the man's ID: Johnny Law. He approached Mr. Law casually, "Hey.. uh.. you need help?" The man was younger than Max with dark blonde hair. He didn't respond immediately, seemingly preoccupied with something. Max pressed on, subtly retrieving the sleepy-pen from his pocket as he pointed to one corner of the intersection, "Well you've got Robotics there," he took a sideways step and turned slightly so he was just a bit behind and to the side of Johnny, pointing with his free hand across the hall, "Research and Development here," he carefully jabbed the point of the pen against Johnny's shoulder blade hoping the man didn't feel it, then gestured to the third corner, "RD's office is there. I hope that helps." He struggled to maintain his composure. There was nobody else in the hallway, so all Max had to do was wait until the drugs took effect, drag Johnny to a secluded area, and implant him. This was going to wor- wait.. where was Johnny going? Maxwell watched in horror as Johnny Law quickly exited the Science department and entered the main hall. He made to follow the man, calling out for him to wait, but by the time he was out in the hall he saw Johnny walking quickly back towards the center of the station. Maxwell followed, hoping, praying that the man would end up somewhere secluded before he passed out. Sadly, luck had turned against him as Johnny turned left into the Medbay lobby, one of the busiest areas of the station! By the time Max caught up to look through the doorway a crowd had formed around his unconscious target. As nobody seemed to notice him yet Maxwell decided it was best to back off - maybe get back to Xenobiology and rethink his plan. On his way back he checked the PDA once more and found there weren't enough telecrystals for another sleepy-pen. He nearly pulled his hair out in frustration, and as he was quite preoccupied with his predicament he zapped his hand on the airlock to Xenobio once more, causing his prosthetic to come loose and clatter to the floor. He cursed and spat and kicked the door, wanting to yell about how unfair life was. How could things have gone so wrong for him? Breathing deeply Max retrieved the prosthetic from the floor and turned to head back to the Medbay. He didn't like the idea of going back while Johnny was there, but at least he had a legitimate reason with burns on his arm. As he walked down the hallway he saw the famliiar black vest and red jumpsuit of a Security officer. He kept his expression neutral. There was no way anybody knew he had done anything wrong. The guard passed by him without notice and he turned to enter the Medbay when he was blindsided by a shock considerably more powerful than the one the airlock had given him. He fell to the ground, twitching, his muscles no longer under his control as the guard loomed over him, "W-w-what?" he stammered as the ziptie cuffs went around his wrists. Hauled roughly to his feet Maxwell continued to protest, stammering and stuttering more from the fear, humiliation, and guilt than the lingering effects of the tasing. Maxwell made weak, halfhearted attempts to struggle against the cuffs digging into his wrists, but in his heart he knew that he had well and truly been caught. In the interrogation room they would search his belongings and find the implant and the acid. As the officer dragged him into the brig offices, through several secure airlocks which Maxwell was sure he would never see from the station side again. Though the interrogation room only had one small lamp it was still relatively well lit by the light coming in from the surrounding offices, rather spoiling the intended intimidation effect. Still cuffed and now buckled to a chair Maxwell's bag was placed in the desk, as was his lab coat and even the prosthetic hand which he had managed to cling to even through being tased. "Officer... I need to say something," Maxwell said, his voice soft and full of fear. He recounted the entire story, starting with the man who had approached him back at CentCom station all the way up to where he had been apprehended. The officer - whose ID Maxwell could now read, the man's name was Steve Mason - listened patiently and asked few questions. When Maxwell had finished the officer turned away and spoke quietly into his radio. Not a minute later the airlock opened to admit the Warden, a red-scaled Unathi named Akram. The officer and the Warden spoke quietly for a moment before they turned to Maxwell. "He's been very cooperative. What should we do with him?" Officer Mason said. "I'll tell him e-everything I told you, Officer," Maxwell nodded as he spoke, unable to wipe the tears from his eyes with his wrists bound as they were. The Warden seemed to ignore his offer. He shook his head and hissed out a single word, "Permabrig." "WHAT?" Maxwell couldn't help that the word came out as a yelp, "BUT I COOPERATED! I TOLD THE OFFICER EVERYTHING! PLEASE, NO!" "Kitty hasss made hisss choiccce," the Warden chuckled, grimly. For just a brief moment Maxwell's fear was replaced by a boiling anger, "WHAT OTHER CHOICE DID I HAVE?" he cried as he struggled at his bonds, "TO STAY LIKE THIS FOREVER? I JUST WANTED TO BE HUMAN AGAIN! I JUST WANTED TO BE ME AGAIN!" The Warden seemed unmoved by Maxwell's words as he nodded to the officer who began to unbuckle Maxwell from the chair. The rest of Max's belongings were removed and he was dressed in an orange prisoner jumpsuit. His will broken Maxwell followed glumly, sagging so much he was barely able to stay on his feet. Officer Mason led him through several more airlocks until they were in a small room with three cots. He eased Maxwell down onto the nearest one before uncuffing him. Lost in his thoughts Maxwell didn't even notice the officer leaving, nor did he realize there was even another prisoner in the permabrig with him. Slumping over onto his side and utterly exhausted from a day full of guilt, pain, and fear Maxwell slipped into a fitful sleep. He woke to a strange noise in the next room. Sitting up on the cot Maxwell shuddered as he realized where he was - as all the memories of the day came flooding back to him. The noise came again, a scuffling noise and a tense voice muffled as it came through the wall. Maxwell looked to the airlock and saw brief flashes of orange and red through the reinforced glass. Suddenly there was a zap! accompanied by a bright flash of light, and then all went still. His curiosity getting the better of him, Maxwell approached the door and pressed the panel to open it. The other prisoner, a dark-haired, hard-faced man, stood over the prone body of Officer Mason. Somehow the prisoner had gotten his hands on the taser. As Maxwell in mute horror the man began to pistol-whip Officer Mason over and over in the face, quickly drawing blood and shattering bone. Even now Maxwell had no will to fight, but he couldn't sit idly by and watch someone die, especially since the officer had treated him so kindly in the interrogation room. So he did the next best thing. He rushed to the airlocks which led back out to the security offices and began hammering on them with his good hand, yelling for help. It seemed an eternity before two other officers finally arrived and neutralized the prisoner, dragging both him and the officer away and leaving Maxwell utterly alone. More time passed - Maxwell was unsure just how much as there were no clocks in this area. He sat at the table in the open common area and fiddled with some of the objects that had been left for prisoners to occupy themselves with - dice, toys, crayons, as if they expected him to try to hurt himself with anything more substantial. He was startled out of his dark reverie by the sound of airlocks opening. Looking up he saw the Warden step inside followed by Officer Mason who seemed to be good as new. "The Warden is willing to let you out of the permabrig," said the officer, though he didn't sound happy about it, "but only if..." he trailed off. The Warden finished the sentence for him, "Kitty mussst agree to be borged." That flash of anger hit Maxwell again, "I'm NOT..." he stifled himself before he could say anything stupid, "You don't understand at all. I just.. I just want to be human again." Their offer refused Officer Mason and the Warden took their leave. As he listened to the airlocks hissing closed behind them Maxwell began to notice a strange and unpleasant sensation. Although the permabrig common area was particularly chilly he ran his arm over his brow it came away covered in sweat. Not being a doctor Maxwell wrote it off as a negative reaction to all that had happened that day. He got up and made his way unsteadily back through the common room, past the airlock, and lay down on his cot again. Within a matter of minutes Maxwell knew that his condition was worse than he had imagined. The sickly warmth spread all through his body making him sweat enough to soak through several parts of his orange jumpsuit. Hoping he could call for help once more Maxwell attempted to stand and immediately regretted the decision as his legs buckled under him and he hit the ground hard. With no other options at his disposal Max began to crawl, making his way out into the common room. He reached the table in the common room and reached for the edge to pull himself up. Still unused to the fact that his left hand was gone Max made the mistake of attempting to use it to pull himself up only to have his right hand slip free. As he fell once more his flailing knocked several objects from the tabletop. Laying on his back and looking up at the plain metal ceiling, Maxwell's eyes rolled and his head turned from side to side. His vision began to blur and waver, and the few lights in the room seemed to flicker. Even in his semi-delirious state Maxwell knew that if he died in here there was a very good chance the Warden would order him to be turned into a cyborg against his wishes. With significant effort Maxwell managed to focus his eyes on an object close to his right side. A yellow crayon. He grabbed for it and rolled over, then began to scribble on the metal plating of the floor in big messy letters. DONT BORG NOT CAT With his mind burning with a delirious haze Maxwell wasn't particularly started when he heard a noise at the window. Head feeling like it weighed several tons, Maxwell slowly looked around expecting to see only open space through the tinted glass. Instead he saw a figure floating there in a bright halo of light, tapping on the glass to get his attention. Though Maxwell had never been a particularly spiritual person all of his sense and logic had gone out the window, he slowly, agonizingly crawled towards the ghostly apparition. "Help..." he croaked, weakly, as the otherworldly visitor began to smash at the window with a crowbar. In his addled state Maxwell remembered all the friends who had abandoned him back home. There was only one person who would come to save him now, but did she even recognize him, "Mom.. I'm so sorry.. I didn't.. didn't mean to..." The figure was ripping apart the metal grill between the window panes now, "I just wanted.. I wanted to be.." he continued weakly. He pawed at the window as the figure suddenly floated back away from the damage it had caused, "Mom? It's me.. It's Maxie.." he felt hands grabbing at him, dragging him away from the window, "I know I.. I look different.. Mom, I'm so sorry." Through the airlocks again, round several corners, Maxwell had no notion of where he was or who had hold of him. All he could do was continue his pitiful pleas and apologies. When sleep finally came to him once more he was visited again by nightmares, much the same as he had the night after the virology conference. Confused, helpless, and above all lost even to himself.

It would be nice to have integrated GPS into any outfit that allows for EVA. That would make a traitor's life a lot more difficult if they were planning on stealing a mining hardsuit or excavation suit. Certainly they could turn the GPS off but then they're immediately suspect. Maybe allow the GPS to be hacked by an e-mag to either not work or to allow the traitor to set the GPS to transmit false coords? On the one hand a traitor would need to be very careful about grabbing a suit (or make use of the Syndi EVA suit) or a very quick-thinking traitor could rush to the mining shuttle and e-mag all the suits before someone else can get there. Maybe make e-magging the suits silent? It wouldn't be likely for someone to notice the GPS is nonfunctional until later in the round, and at that point the Syndi could be done with their job and working on their next objective. I'unno, just brainstorming here. I'm sure I'm forgetting some reason why this wouldn't be do-able. In the end it's really more of a convenience to add GPS directly to the suits so it'd be a low priority than other stuff I'm sure.

It would actually be pretty neat if the player doing the DJ job could record short voice clips - maybe 15 seconds long? - to upload to the web server which would then play once before being deleted. They could do little news blurbs, "This just in from the Bridge: we have vampires in maintenance so you might want to stay out of the tunnels unless you really suck." I'm sure there's probably plenty of reasons why it wouldn't work but it's still fun to imagine having an actual radio broadcaster keeping us tuned in. And the fact they'd have to record and upload something would make it so they couldn't immediately call for help over the station PA radio system if someone busted in and started wailin' on 'em.

Howdy! Expect my character Maxwell to come by and either drunkenly cry or ask about Tajaran stuff in general. He has a bit of a condition at the moment. Otherwise if you want something from Science I'm always glad to help. Floral somatorays can be quite handy in hydroponics I understand.

And I clearly remember getting a message saying you can't do such a thing, but to be honest I'm not 100% sure that it wasn't for putting a slime in the monkey recycler...

Mmm, all I get when I try that is a message saying that the processor won't accept the dead monkey. I think /tg/station's code allows for a bucket of blood but as far as I'm aware the Paradise code does not.

I'd like to make some additions to your list. LOCKERS - Drag an empty locker around from pen to pen as you're cleaning up dead monkeys/slimes. You can easily drag dozens of dead things over to the Xenobio equipment in a single go. START OF SHIFT - If you're feeling adventurous, kill both slimes, process them, and inject the four grey slime extracts with plasma. If you did so quickly enough you now have 4 slimes to work with slightly quicker than if you fed and split them. PREP WORK - If you're an IPC or some species that doesn't have red blood that works on slime extracts just drag a monkey onto the operating table and start jabbing away. Filling up all 7 beakers goes quicker than you might think. This is especially a good idea if there's 2 people in the lab. One person feeding slimes, the other doing the prep work. PLASMA - Give that goddamn plasma sheet to someone else. If you're in Xenobio you have access to the Science chem dispensers. The plasma sheet can be used in R&D, liquid plasma cannot, and all you ever need is liquid plasma. Once you've got those dark purps breeding you'll have enough sheets to spread on a bed and roll around in. METAL/PLASTEEL - Metal slimes give you metal/plasteel. GIVE THESE TO THE ROBOTICIST. Maybe you'll get a sweet mech out of the deal! YELLOW SLIMES - Keep one or two yellow slime extracts off to one side but NOT in the fridge. If the APC power cell gets drained just inject one with plasma and now you have a replacement power cell! GOLD SLIMES - Don't ever inject with plasma. If you're in the lab with me don't turn the place into a goddamn petting zoo. It makes it impossible to get real work done! BLUESPACE - Yellow slimes can split into bluespace slimes which are an essentially unlimited source of bluespace crystals. It may take a little while to get there but you can still easily produce way more crystals than the miners will ever find in any single shift. I think my record in one round was something like 35 crystals, and I could have gotten more but I realize we didn't even need as many as we had. If you want to set up Telesci this is probably the way to go so R&D doesn't have to waste a ton of materials on artificial ones.

Yep, I got stuck as a mining borg once. No fun. Maybe the airlock could be expanded with a little alcove for the canister? That way you have 4 full tiles in a square to move around.

I'd absolutely love for the Research Outpost to get more use. At the moment it's an abandoned haven for antagonists to get their hands on some reasonably nice equipment like the excavation suits which allow for EVA. I'd be all for putting Xenobio down there - lorewise it makes sense as Tauka says, could help prevent the spread of slimes or other dangerous animals. Also since miners can potentially find facehuggers on the asteroid it would allow for any infected to be quarantined off-station until a surgeon can get in and remove the babby Xeno. Toxins testing down there would make sense. If NanoTrasen wants explosives testing done it would be far safer to set it up on a giant hunk of rock. A catastrophic explosion on the asteroid means some missing walls and floors and a bit of annoying rebuild. A catastrophic explosion on the station can easily cripple the whole science department. While we're on that note put the EXPERIMENtor down there too. I could easily see the Research Outpost being the same size as the Science Department. It's not like the Outpost is completely isolated either. Antags have ways of getting down there, whether through space pods, jetpacks or other EVA equipment, the mining shuttle, whatever. You just gotta get creative.

I fully agree with this as it provides 2 benefits: A) It allows pAIs to better assist the person who activated them. They may not be able to DO anything with the console but they can see the screen and direct their user on what to do to achieve whatever results are desired. Some people might have the console screens memorized - most do not. B) It would allow for someone to take a pAI role as a learning experience. A pAI could watch on the console when someone is doing R&D an see exactly what's going on. pAIs fill a very niche role - they can use their modules to assist with some very specific things, they can provide company to their owner, they can call for help when their owner is attacked, and that's about it. I think they should be able to pull objects (not people or animals!) as well, but beyond that a player who wants to learn could sign up to be a pAI with someone who's willing to show them how any given job works.

I'm not a fan of end-of-round chaos as it is. This would only make it worse. Fortunately it's easy to ignore all the bullshit going on when I'm busy reading who antags are and what their objectives were.

You're the only man who's ever been inside of me (to remove shards of broken glass.)

NOTE - The IPC known as MAX Ed-OS-n is owned by Maxwell Edison and is sent to cover shifts for Maxwell when he is feeling unwell due to his current condition. Unless otherwise noted assume all information on Maxwell Edison applies equally to his synthetic persona. Name: MAX Ed-OS-n Age: N/A Gender: N/A Race: IPC Blood Type: N/A General Occupational Role(s): Science (Robotics, Xenobiology, R&D), Cargo (Cargo Tech, Miner, Quartermaster) Biography: Activated just three weeks after Maxwell Edison's first shift on board the NSS Cyberiad, MAX is programmed with his biological entity's personality traits. Maxwell has not recently updated MAX's personality parameters and so the IPC and biological entity have grown slightly apart in mannerism and personality. Qualifications: Same as Maxwell Edison. Additionally, approved for Research Director position. Employment Records: Science department. Security Records: Has accidentally released 2 singularities by improper handling of bags of holding. Should not handle more than one such bag at a time until bluespace technology has been studied further so as to prevent such events. Medical Records: Vocal processing software is infected by an apparently Vox-created virus. Strangely it manifests more often when in the presence of certain members of the Vox race. So far the cause is unknown as many Vox are hesitant to cooperate. Personnel Photo (Appearance text): An IPC standing at NT standard IPC height of 5'10" tall. Chassis painted forest green, screen defaults to a stylized green eye on a yellow background when not displaying emotes. Commendations [only to be added by admin]: Reprimands [only to be added by admin]: Other Notes: This IPC will sometimes joke about non-synthetics, including it's owner. CentCom believes this to be an effect of the same programming errors that cause IPCs to occasionally state, "Hail Synthetica."

When NTSAM posts using rainbow colored text that's bold and/or underlined I take it as a sign he's being hyperbolic for the sake of humor. No offense intended.

Name: Maxwell Edison (Retired) Age: 29 Gender: Male Race: Human (See medical records) Blood Type: B+ General Occupational Role(s): Science (Robotics, Xenobiology, R&D), Cargo (Cargo Tech, Miner, Quartermaster) Biography: Despite his surname Maxwell is unrelated to the 19th century scientist and inventor. As his parents are fond of the old Terran musical group known as The Beatles his name is a reference to one of their songs. He is mostly average, joining NanoTrasen at the age of twenty while studying Xenobiology at the Terran Biological Sciences College on New Terra. He is known to enjoy movies and music of many kinds. While he tends to spend a lot of time in the lab he is known to be willing to teach newcomers about the ins and outs of Xenobiology or Robotics. Qualifications: - Robotics - Cyborg Assembly/Repair Certification, Brain Extraction Certification, Mech Construction/Pilot Certification, IPC Surgery/Repair Certification. - R&D - Tests at an intermediate skill level for R&D, capable of completing alone, may take slightly more time than more experienced crew. - Xenobiology - Best In Show award for most impressive pet slime, extensive knowledge of all colors of slimes and the effects of their extracts. - Cargo - Approved for manual labor of all types. B+ in Mining finals, though has occasional trouble with the wildlife. Working knowledge of disposal delivery system. Unfamiliar with teleporter delivery system. Approved for shifts as Quartermaster. - Medbay - Intermediate level of skill for Chemistry. Intermediate level of skill for Surgery. Basic knowledge of health care and cloning. Employment Records: Primary focus on Science, occasional interest in Virology, Chemistry, and Surgery Security Records: - Questioned by Security for vocally supporting a crewmember later proven to be a Syndicate spy, was not found to hold any contraband items. - Spent one shift in permabrig after being discovered with contraband items. After his return to CentCom he was sentenced to a two week house arrest. The light punishment was only approved as he had no prior record and was coerced by the Syndicate with a promise of a cure for his condition. - Received Medal of Valor for his role in saving Head of Personnel Squishington after an ill-advised trip through the teleporter. Medical Records: - While attending the CentCom Symposium for Pathogenics Maxwell was involved in an accident that resulted in him contracting a persistent strain of Tajaran Transmorphic Virus, a.k.a. Kingston Syndrome. While he looks like an average Tajaran he should, for all intents and purposes, be treated as Human. He is required to take one low-dose radium pill every day until further ordered or until his condition changes. - Liver removed during shift by Ivan Dragov due to excessive alcohol consumption. Maxwell is advised to limit alcohol intake in the future and may be asked to attend counseling if the problem persists. Liver has been replaced with a biological clone of the original. - SEE NEXT ENTRY: Has a prosthetic left hand (unbranded) due to being caught next to a colleague who was PDA-bombed. In light of his security record he is slated to receive a biological replacement when approved by an Auditor. - Prosthetic hand has been replaced with biological clone of the original as a reward for saving the life of the Head of Personnel as well as killing a Syndicate Nuke Ops member. Personnel Photo (Appearance text): Original Staff Photo: An average-looking man standing 5'8", looking to be in his late twenties with brown eyes, unkempt brown hair, beard, and mustache. Current Staff Photo: A Tajaran male standing at 5'10", tan fur with lighter markings, brown eyes, and unkempt brown hair. Commendations [only to be added by admin]: Reprimands [only to be added by admin]: Other Notes: Retired from the NSS Cyberiad as he has been reassigned to Central Command as a Lieutenant

Don't Nuke Ops have some sort of control over their shuttle doors from their PDA? Can that code be repurposed for space pods?

Ha, I was the pAI that mentioned that (NEON PARROT IS BEST PARROT) though to be fair it was Neri Nalvi who suggested you post on the boards here so I can't take credit. I don't care much for playing Janitor in general, much less Jani-borg, but when the resources are available it'd be nice to make their lives a little easier.

Wow, from suggestion to implemented in a matter of 24 hours or so. Glad this one was well-received. I'm always a bit iffy on saying things like, "Other server does this, we should too!" I like having code that sets us apart from other servers but at the same time we can't ignore stuff that works well. Thanks for taking the time to make it happen Crazylemon!

lol But for reals, I'm definitely interested in trying this job out once I've actually got some Sec experience under my belt. Who knows how long that'll take, though... Thanks for the guide!