Keroman

Cupcake if you go port (left) of the engineering department into the tunnels by secure tech storage there's a shuttle you can call (like the mining or research station shuttles) which takes you to the engineering satellite. There's some extra equipment in there including a few spare hardsuits, an EVA suit, a really nice stock of metal and glass, food and drink vendors, a tool vendor and engivend, a maintenance drone fabricator, a little sleeping and kitchen area, and some additional equipment similar to what's in secure tech storage. Lights, heaters, air scrubbers, stuff like that.

Untrue, my IPC makes fun of organics all the damn time, including my organic character whose personality the IPC character is modeled after. I just don't go around touting synthetic superiority.

No, my IPC is the annoyingest!

Haha, well honestly another big part of this is to allow this all to take place without an Admin having to do any work.

Well one of the big reasons I advocated for the ability to create IPCs from scratch (and to potentially make it possible to transfer a consciousness into a slime core too) was so that players could get a chance to test-drive a karma-locked race before actually buying it. The process is intentionally drawn out and involves several departments working on it so that it's not something someone could do every single round. The conditions would have to be right: - R&D would need the research levels maxed to create the circuit board for the (example name) Mind Transfer console. Some of the faster players could do this in, say, 20 minutes at the start of the round. - Genetics would need to create a body (if the transferred mind is going into an organic body). - R&D would need the material for a posi-brain (if the transferred mind is going into an IPC body). - Robotics would need the material for an entire IPC body (again, if the transferred mind is going into an IPC body). - Xenobiology would need to open up a dead slime and pull out a slime core (if the transferred mind is going into a slime person). - A surgeon would need to remove the original brain and place it into an MMI. The MMI would go into the Mind Transfer console. The "input" brain (Posibrain, Slime Core, etc.) and the console would need to be activated. We could set this to any length of time we want, say 5 minutes per Mind Transfer. - A surgeon or roboticist would then put the new brain/slime core/posibrain into the appropriate body. This is a lot of stuff that needs to happen even when you account for removing the steps that are specific to a synthetic or organic when they don't apply. Some of these things CANNOT be done concurrently, either, further extending the process. I would say, as a rough estimate, that if all parties involved got to work at the very start of the round the first Mind Transfers would not be happening until 40 minutes in. I'm willing to bet that the vast majority of the time something else will pop up that requires the attention of someone involved. Bombings, blob attacks, various involved personnel getting abducted and killed by syndies/lings/cultists/etc. Even if everything went perfectly the people swapping into the karma-locked races would only get to play as them for a little more than half the round. Personally I believe it's worth putting that sort of effort in to allow people to an in-character chance to try out a few karma-locked races before spending their hard-earned karma on them. If nothing else it makes for some fun RP as they figure out the strange nuances of a new body. Now I fully understand that my word doesn't count for much here so if the final decision is no then there's not a lot I can do about it. I also understand it would take a decent amount of coding and there are other important things to work on. I hope that one day this feature or something similar to it can be added in a way that everyone can agree with.

That's fair enough. Is there a way to differentiate players who joined as a "free-willed human mob" (i.e. joining the server as one of their characters) from players who join the game via a positronic brain activated partway through the round?

One step ahead of ya! http://nanotrasen.se/forum/viewtopic.php?f=12&t=6626

Also make floorbots have an infinite amount of floor tiles. They never get used and the fact they have to be refilled is likely the reason. The whole point of these bots is to set and forget. Although I understand that does open up the possibility of infinite floor-tile grief.

Yes, an IPC torso shouldn't be available until a higher tier level of research has been reached. Some players are capable of maxing out R&D in under 20 minutes so this should not prove to be much of an obstacle to the process, but it will force the method to be drawn out a little more (which, as I said in the original post, is a good thing). There's already a baseline of cost for other IPC parts like the optical sensor and IPC head and such so we can use that information to decide on a reasonable cost for an IPC torso. I could imagine it requiring a decent amount of silver, gold, and diamonds for the complex inner-circuitry of an IPC torso. As far as lore goes there's already a wide range of IPC personalities. As it is already I think there's two main schools of thought regarding IPC-to-organic body swapping: A) Why would you do that? Synthetics are superior than any organic. I'm going to shun you now because you made a terrible choice. B) What's it like being organic? How do you feel? Do you think it's better or worse than being synthetic? Do you want to be changed back? There would definitely be push-back from some IPCs, and that's totally fine from an RP standpoint. I like to think that there would be a number of IPCs who would RP that curiosity about organic life, maybe up to the point where they would try out the procedure themselves to see what it's like. Maybe it could even lead to a special Admin-approved event where an IPC goes organic and then goes murder-crazy as they deal with the sudden influence of emotions.

Agreed, Spacemanspark. Also I worry about an accidental confirm of a pop-up box as happens sometimes when you're trying to say something while someone is trying to hand something to you. And NTSAM, as far as creating IPC bodies I would say it should have a fairly high cost even in a fully-upgraded exosuit fabricator. As high as the cost for some of the higher tier mechs like a Phazon or Durand, maybe. It really depends on what sort of materials the lore says are used in IPC construction. I could see diamonds, gold, and silver being used for circuitry within an IPC torso.

So for those of you who weren't part of the discussion this suggestion comes from a discussion in minichat about the bug whereby an IPC character can be turned into an organic via a bug where an organic head placed on an IPC body transfers the consciousness of the IPC character from the positronic brain in their chest to the organic brain in the head. It was an unintended consequence of the code and never meant to be possible, but it was. In-game it was used both legitimately (for RP purposes) as well as illegitimately (to force two IPC players into organic bodies against their will). I am 100% in favor of the bug being fixed and there is a pull request on the Github at this very moment which will, ideally, close that loophole. What I would like to suggest is for some legitimate in-game means for bodyswaps to take place regardless of species. Currently there are 2 different "types" of brains - organic and synthetic - and within the organic category there are regular organic brains and then there are slime cores which are organic but function slightly differently than other organic brains. It is entirely possible to do body swaps between organic species with little to no effort. I've seen any number of these, including someone turning a Vox Raider into a humanized wolpin. It is also entirely possible to do bodyswaps between IPCs by switching around their posibrains. In fact I would argue it's simpler to do so for IPCs than for organics. What there is NOT, however, is a method for transferring an IPC mind into an organic body (legitimately), nor is there a way to transfer an organic mind into an IPC body. I would argue that allowing for such things to happen does not force anyone to play a species they don't want to play. I would fully support the process being 100% voluntary. Allowing players to body-swap into a Karma-locked race is very much not the same thing as allowing them to play a Karma-locked job. If anything it would allow a player to try out a Karma-locked race prior to buying it so they know what they're getting into. From an RP perspective it allows for some interesting player interaction to take place, and I believe it fits with the theme of the NSS Cyberiad as a "scientific" vessel setting out to do research on all manner of things from plasma to supermatter. Currently it is possible to put an organic brain into synthetic bodies only in a limited matter (cyborgs, spiderbots, and AI cores). It is also possible to transfer the consciousness from an AI core to an Intellicard. This means that currently in the game in a non-exploit manner you can turn an organic consciousness into a synthetic one. The problem is that Intellicards can only transfer the consciousness to and from an AI Core and not anything else. You could, theoretically, have one AI built from a posibrain and one AI built from an organic brain and swap the two around, however there is currently no means of removing the brain from the AI core to do something else with it. I would say that having some sort of console available, even if it's only available from R&D as a circuit board to start with, that could read the consciousness from an organic brain (in an MMI) and transfer it to a positronic brain and vice versa. The protolathe can print out posibrains and MMIs already and Genetics can create any number of humanized creatures to nab brains from. I would also recommend adding the ability to make an IPC torso in the exosuit fabricators in robotics so that no IPC ever has to sacrifice their body to allow someone else to play an IPC. The process of body-swapping should NOT be an easy one. It should be a frankensteinian mashup of several different departments working together to make it happen and it should take a significant amount of work and time to be done. In this way it would prevent players from turning themselves into an IPC or other karma-locked race every round simply to avoid paying the Karma cost to unlock it. I know there are people out there who dislike the idea and I do want to hear from you, but I also want to be very clear about my intentions here so let me reiterate the following: - I support the removal of the current exploit that allows IPCs to be turned into organics- I would prefer that any sort of body-swap procedure be 100% voluntary. - I believe that the in-game lore supports the existence of such a procedure. - My main goal in having something like this added to the game is to open up more options for players to try new races that would otherwise be unavailable to them. More options for players are a good thing. Creating more RP opportunities for players is a good thing.

Yeah, that's my biggest rage-inducer, scrub. I'm in the middle of R&D and someone just walks in and starts fucking with the console. I try my damnedest to pay attention to the chat window even with 90% of it covered with the console window, just ask me if you can use it first and I'll probably say yes.

In the server room you have access to alter the R&D server's memory or even delete all the research entirely. You can also back up most of the research onto disks and then wipe the computer itself. That last thing it something I considering doing as an RD on red alert, then just keeping the appropriate disks with me or in a wall safe or something like that. It would be nice if, when you looked into the R&D server, there was an option to force any given item to be printed inside of a lockbox. That wouldn't necessarily stop people from printing things off, and traitors with an emag are still going to get whatever it is they want (but hey, that's what an emag's for) but it could still force other people to actually ask for something rather than wandering in and just taking it.

Are you guys planning a surprise party for when I turn 30 in a few days? Well, surprise spoiled.

Don't be afraid to go big with your stories. Write however you feel comfortable writing and you'll find your audience just fine. So far I like what I've seen.

*points and screams* NECROPOOOOOOOOOOOST

Bwahaha, next entry: "slimes eatin' me, halp"

I actually like the idea of a Warden or HoS asking officers to label their belongings at the start of a shift just in case. In real life I believe a lot (although not all) police officers have their own equipment that only gets switched out every once in a while for something newer so they may as well just label the equipment as theirs. Some departments, especially those with less in the way of equipment, are more likely to share it between officers, though. I don't think it would be overly metagamey if any given officer labeled their taser and stun baton, possibly their armor and/or helmet. Most of the time antags aren't going to nab the armor and helmet anyways as it's super obvious when they're running around wearing it. Taser and stun baton are more apt to be stolen, however, and it would make a good case against them if they're caught with one labeled as belonging to the officer who went missing 30 minutes before. An antag could also take advantage of the labeling and leave it in maintenance where some Greydora the Maintsplorer finds it and causes chaos only to take the fall when Sec takes him or her down. If the officer is still alive then the labeling could just as easily get them in trouble for losing their equipment, unless they were beaten to crit/death before it was taken, of course. EDIT - This is in no way meant to be an endorsement for the idea that items should be labeled by default at round start, just a commentary that a player taking it upon themselves to label their own equipment at the start of a shift is not a bad idea in general.

Howdy PUSEN. Definitely seen you around online at times. Welcome to the rest of your life.

3 across the ass

I'm definitely not opposed to having some sort of monster running around harassing the players that go through. I think it should scale in in difficulty depending on how many players have gone through the gateway which, if there's an admin controlling the monster, shouldn't be difficult. Maybe lore-wise the monster could be the source of a constant EMP effect which disrupts the power on the station and prevents the gateway on that side from opening until it's killed. The players would need to rely on unpowered weapons as well, so no lasers/tasers/stunprods, but likely there could be a few shotguns or pistols tucked away in places. There'd be a very limited amount of ammo, however, so if the players aren't good shots they may have to make some spears to fight with. As far as having "rewards" for the players I imagine that an all access ID would quickly be confiscated as soon as they got back to our own Cyberiad. Likewise if they found any weapons Security (especially Beepsky) would be quick to crack down on anyone walking around armed. Any "rewards" they get would need to have a negligible effect upon their return to the station. Maybe they could find some cool armored outfits or EVA suits or the alternate-universe Captain's medals (remember, EMP monster = unlocked medal case!)

Hey there friendo. I've seen you around during a few shifts. Most notably I was the voxxy NT Rep who requested your help dealing with suicidal scientist Zeke Northey the other night.

With regards to whose corpses show up on the mirror-universe Cyberiad (Cyb-mirror-iad?) I figure it'd be a one-time thing maybe when the gateway is first accessed? The dead bodies would only show up in the correct departments, maybe with the corpses of Assistants appearing throughout all departments and Civlians/Traders' corpses only showing up in places like arrivals, evac, holodeck, locker room, library, chapel. If anyone joins the round after the gateway has been opened their corpse doesn't suddenly appear on the other version of the Cyberiad.

With regards to this thread: viewtopic.php?f=2&t=6532 Professor Cupcake said he thought I should post the idea here so I am. I was thinking it would be neat to have a gateway destination that turned out to be the Cyberiad but in a different dimension where everyone has died horribly. There would be random damage to the station, maybe the power would be out (no singulo/maybe it got loose and ate most of Engineering before veering off into space?) The kicker is that the map would be populated by the dead bodies of the current crew-members on board our own Cyberiad. That part would be a little tricky in terms of checking the name, race, and identifiers of each person and then spawning dead bodies for each one in the appropriate departments. There would be little to no indication as to how each person died. The ID cards and PDAs could all be nonfunctional - maybe a massive EMP wiped out all electronics on the station including the chips in the cards - but if players can get power restored (maybe via solars/turbine/generators) they could potentially use their own IDs to move around within their own departments. I think it would be also be a way for some antagonists to complete their objectives. I would say it may not be the best idea to have antag items spawn on the corpses otherwise Command would likely send a team through to the mirror universe to sweep the bodies and find out who the antags are on our own Cyberiad. Other than that there could still be the traitor targets for stealing stuff, like the Captain's medals, the HoS laser gun, etc, all locked up of course. Maybe changelings could steal a brain from the mirror-universe corpse of their target. I imagine that having the server run an entire second full-size map of the Cyberiad might cause problems but if the power is permanently off and atmosphere is completely drained I imagine that could help minimize the load on the server. Thoughts?

(Kind of a short one today compared to the other two.) Never before in Maxwell's life had two weeks felt like such a long time. Two weeks confined to his small apartment in the Central Command dormitory. Two weeks of his life taken away because he had been manipulated by the Syndicate and been caught in the act. It was only because of his unfortunate circumstances that the Magistrate had approved such a light penalty. It had come with a stern warning, however, that if he ever tried to do the Syndicate's bidding again he would never see the outside of a brig cell. Two weeks. This was cruel and unusual punishment for someone who wanted to forget what they were. Maxwell tried to fill the time with frivolities - holo-shows, films, video games, e-novellas - but eventually the boredom overtook him once more and with it came the sullen reminder that he was no longer human, no longer himself, and that he would remain so for the foreseeable future. In his darkest of moments he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe the Syndicate would send someone after him for failing their task. But nobody came. For two weeks. And then the door chime sounded. Lost in his thoughts Maxwell didn't realize what he was hearing at first. On the second ring he was on his feet and rushing to the door. Locked down like he was and with all but emergency comms privileges taken away Maxwell didn't realize just how much he missed contact with others. He hesitated briefly before hitting the panel that would open the door. In the brief moment before it opened Maxwell felt a twinge of despair - the door was still bolted! Whoever was out there was going to leave! - and then it opened to reveal a man. Maxwell recognized him as was one of the Auditors who had spoken to him in CentCom Medbay after his stint in the permabrig. Maxwell was still fuzzy as to how he had made it off the station after that shift and the officer who had been set to guard him while he was recovering had been scarce with the details. The Auditor handed over a parcel and spoke curtly, his distaste for Maxwell quite clear in his voice, "You'll be reporting to the Cyberiad tomorrow. You will not be assigned any duties until you have earned the trust of the Corporation once more. Ask the Head of Personnel what service roles need filling. In time we'll see about getting you back into the Science department." Maxwell began to stammer out a reply, looking from the man to the parcel that he had been given and back. Before he could say anything the Auditor was gone, walking down the hallway to the dormitory exit. The door timer finished it's countdown and slid shut in front of Maxwell, who wordlessly opened the package he had been given. A blue jumpsuit, a PDA, and an ID card: Maxwell Edison (Civilian) Well, it was something. Wanting to look presentable for work Maxwell decided that, with his confinement now over, he would take a trip to the station barber. He had a little difficulty in communicating just what he wanted but the barber seemed to know what he was doing and in the end Maxwell was relatively pleased with how he looked, though he couldn't help a small grimace at the feline face in the mirror. Looking and feeling better now that he was able to leave his quarters Maxwell took a walk around the station, the darkness that had been clouding his thoughts for what seemed like an eternity now began to fade to a blurry grey. He may not be human anymore, but at least he was alive. It was something. The next day Maxwell boarded the shuttle with little fuss - no suspicious Syndicate agents - and eventually disembarked at the Cyberiad. As ordered by the Auditor he went directly to the Head of Personnel, a slime-person named Squishington. Unfortunately for Maxwell it seemed all the service positions had been filled already, and so Mr. Squishington rattled off a few other jobs that were available. One of them caught Maxwell's attention immediately: Gateway Explorer. Maxwell had heard stories of the strange and wondrous places the gateway could lead. He had even once been through the gateway to the small beach lounge where he had kicked back with a few drinks. If Maxwell hadn't had his liver removed after that he wouldn't mind spending another shift lounging on the beach but given the boredom of the last two weeks he was looking forward to something a little more.. adventurous. Maxwell signed up immediately and, because he wanted to be as prepared as possible for the trip, he asked the Head of Personnel for authorization to carry a belt full of tools and a pair of insulated gloves. He knew a little of hacking and if he ended up in some abandoned outpost he'd want to be able to get around without too much hassle. It took a little time but Mr. Squishington was able to scrounge up some gloves for Maxwell. Then he beckoned for Maxwell to follow as he stepped out of his office. He led the way down the hallway to the engineering department - eerily deserted so early in the shift - and scrounged up a toolbox from under a table, handing it over. "I'll tell you what. Take these tools and hack this door and you can grab a tool belt from inside," said the slime-man. "What?" Maxwell said, nervously. He didn't much care for the fact that the Head of Personnel was advocating an illegal activity. "Think of it as a test. Prove you can hack a door so I know you're capable enough to handle yourself through the gateway," said Squishington as he gestured impatiently toward the door. Fidgeting nervously for a few moments Maxwell sighed and turned to the door. It wasn't his quickest work but it didn't take him overly long either. Soon Maxwell was prying the door open with a crowbar. As luck would have it there was a tool belt on a rack just inside the door. He grabbed it and stepped outside where the waiting Head of Personnel had an approving look on his semi-opaque face. Maxwell pried the door shut behind him and closed the maintenance panel so nobody could tell someone had hacked in, then buckled the belt on and began to unload the toolbox and put the tools into their proper places on the belt. "Well done. Now get your ass to EVA," said Squishington as he turned and headed down the hallway back towards the center of the station. With a little more preparation and a quick call over the radio to see if anybody wanted to join him Maxwell eventually found himself in the gateway room accompanied by a man named Arven and a cyborg known as MAC. Maxwell grabbed the spare first aid kit from the table as well as a station-bounced radio, then approached the great circular mass of metal and wires. He touched the holographic display and the gateway sprang to life, emitting a deep humming sound along with a worrying concert of whirs, clicks, and buzzes. After a few seconds a hole in reality formed at the center of the metal ring and expanded quickly outward. Though his EVA suit was sealed up and his oxygen tank was at full capacity Maxwell felt a slight trepidation. He thought he was prepared for almost anything as he stepped inside. And found himself on a the beach. "Son of a BITCH!" He kicked at the sand angrily as Arven stepped through behind him, "I was hoping for anything besides this goddamn beach!" he ranted to nobody in particular. Arven, at least, didn't seem disappointed, and neither did MAC. The trio made for the hut that served as a bar for lounging beachgoers. Together they looted everything that could be useful - a Booze-O-Mat, a Getmore Chocolate Corp machine, a liquor cabinet - and made their way back to the station. Dropping off their goods in the bar they reported to the Head of Personnel once more. Maxwell, perhaps a little more angrily than he intended, told Squishington, "The gateway goes to a damn beach. Isn't there a way to recalibrate it or something?" The Head of Personnel shook his head no, but then held up one finger, "There is, however, one other place I could have you explore. Follow." Maxwell and Arven were led to the teleporter room where the Head of Personnel booted up the computer and began the process of calibration. "I'll go first," Maxwell said as the telepad activated, shimmering yellow, purple, and green. He activated the oxygen tank at his waist once more and hefted a flashlight in his hand as he stepped through. Immediately he was glad that he had brought a light source as the place he ended up was quite dark. It was a small room made of bare metal walls and floor plating and various debris scattered about. As he scanned the room he noticed a break in the wall that led to open space. Arven soon appeared behind him, followed shortly - to Max's surprise - by the Head of Personnel who lacked any sort of protective gear. Maxwell felt a twinge of panic at that as, while he wasn't especially familiar with slime-person physiology, he was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea for anyone to be out in space without air or an EVA-capable suit. The Head of Personnel seemed unperturbed about the situation at first, pulling out a hand-teleporter and activating it to open a shimmering blue portal, "Sorry, I was curious," said Squishington with a shrug, "Well, good luck gentlemen," he said to Maxwell and Arven before stepping through. Crisis averted there, at least, Maxwell thought, and then nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard something thumping against the metal wall to his right. At first he thought it might just be space debris bouncing off the hull of the room, but as the thumping continued Maxwell looked to Arven, "Something's out there! Should we go look?" Arven nodded and together they stepped out of the breach in the wall and crawled across the outer plating of the structure. Rounding the curve of the metal hull they quickly spotted the source of the thumping noise. The Head of Personnel was there, weakly hammering a fist at the metal plating, his face and hands bruised - or at least the slime was discolored, all Maxwell knew was that it didn't look good. He grabbed Squishington and made his way back into the room while Arven followed. By the time they made it inside Squishington was worryingly unresponsive. "We have a problem!" called Maxwell over the radio, "The HoP teleported us to some abandoned teleporter station and then came through without EVA gear! I think he's dead!" And it was at that moment that he heard the telltale thud of an explosion somewhere nearby in space. A computerized voice buzzed through his PDA, "ANNOUNCEMENT - Telecomms has been bombed." "Fuck!" Maxwell turned to Arven, "What are we going to do?" Arven held up up a circuit board he had found, "This says teleporter console on it. Maybe put it in that old console over there and see if we can get it working?" Maxwell nodded and got to work setting up the console by the defunct teleporter. Arven moved to the busted APC unit on the wall and began working on restoring power. When they both had finished they tried to make sense of the teleporter controls. No matter how they set them the telepad wouldn't light up. Maxwell was about to give up hope when he remembered the hand teleporter the Head of Personnel had brought with him. He murmured an unheard apology as he went through Squishington's pockets and found what he was looking for. The small grayish-blue box was much less complicated than the console, and there were only three settings available. Maxwell dialed the target to the location that said, "Active" and turned the hand-teleporter on. A blue portal slid open in front of him and he stepped through... right back to where he started, "Shit, that's not it, it just leads back here!" Lacking other options he dialed the teleporter to the next option despite the fact it said, "Inactive" and hit the switch to open another portal, "Let me go through first in case it's dangerous," he said to Arven, "I'll try to contact you if it's safe." He stepped through and felt the weight of gravity hit him. He looked around and realized he was back on the Cyberiad - on the bridge, in fact - with a rather startled-looking Captain standing nearby. Maxwell didn't waste any time, "TELL ARVEN TO GET THE H-O-P THROUGH THE PORTAL! MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT OR, OR SOMETHING! NOW!" The Captain seemed confused and unsure as to what Maxwell was speaking about. Frustrated, Max switched the hand-teleporter back to the previous setting and activated the portal, stepping through and emerging in the metal space-bound room once more, "I've got it!" he yelled to Arven as he came through, toggling the hand-teleporter once more. He grabbed the Head of Personnel and, in a surprising display of strength fueled by adrenaline, threw the man through the portal before stepping through himself with Arven following shortly afterward. Instead of the bridge, however, they found themselves at Arrivals. Maxwell and Squishington were in the middle of the hallway while Arven appeared in between two of the windows between the hallway and the arrivals shuttle. Maxwell immediately grabbed the Head of Personnel and ran as fast as he could for medical. When he arrived he was glad to see that somebody had heard his call for help on the radio just before they had gone down. Another slime-person was ready behind the desk to receive Squishington's body with the intent to revive him as quickly as possible. With the Head of Personnel safe in the hands of Medbay Maxwell figured it would be a good idea to fill in the Captain about what happened. He only hoped that nobody would blame him for the HoP's decision to step through the teleporter unprotected... He activated the station-bounced radio and asked for Arven to meet him at the bridge. The man was already there when he arrived and knocked at the door to get the attention of one of the few command staff on the bridge. It was the Captain who came to the door and Maxwell explained the situation from the beginning, about the gateway and the beach, the teleporter and the small metal room in space, and how the Head of Personnel was now in Medbay hopefully being revived at that very moment. The Captain nodded along patiently, and gave a simple reply, "Thank you Maxwell, Arven, give me some time to verify this. I'll call for you later." Feeling a bit deflated at being dismissed so quickly after all he had done Maxwell sighed and gestured for Arven to follow him. They went to the bar and sat down, the bartender giving them each a free drink for the equipment they had brought in from the gateway earlier. Though Maxwell knew he shouldn't be drinking alcohol he felt he deserved something after the strange ups and downs and twists and turns the day had taken. He deserved to treat himself - after all, he was a big damn hero for saving the Head of Personnel wasn't he? One drink couldn't hurt. As Maxwell sat and drank in sullen silence, listening to Arven regaling the bartender with stories of their exploits, Maxwell heard radio chatter slowly returning to the station. Though the telecomms satellite had apparently been blown up many people were equipping themselves with the same type station-bounced radio he had in his pocket. As he felt a creeping uneasiness (or was it the alcohol) in his gut Maxwell heard his name called for over the radio. The Captain was calling he and Arven to the bridge... So off he went, his cohort in tow, speculating about what they were needed for. They were greeted at the door by the Captain who let them onto the bridge. The man seemed quite pleased with Maxwell and Arvin. "Arvin, for your service in rescuing the Head of Personnel I award you the medal of distinguished conduct," said the Captain, solemnly, pinning a silvery badge to Arven's jumpsuit. He then stepped in front of Maxwell and turned to face him, "Maxwell, for your more immediate and decisive action in rescuing the Head of Personnel I award you the medal of valor," he reached out and pinned a platinum medal to Maxwell's jumpsuit and then put his hand on Maxwell's shoulder, "Good man." A flood of emotions hit Maxwell all at once, he was barely able to hold back tears. The shame he had felt upon being tossed in permabrig two weeks before was there again. How could he deserve something like this after what he had done? "I don't.. I don't deserve this, Captain," he said, his voice slurring a bit from the drink a short time ago. "Of course you do son, now I've got important business to attend to, please," he gestured toward the door, opening it for Arven and Maxwell. Dismissed once more Maxwell was unsure what to do next. He stood for a while in the hall, looking down at the fancy medal that contrasted with his plain blue jumpsuit. Unfortunately he didn't have long to admire his prize before his body finally began to protest the alcohol it couldn't process. With his insides twisting in knots Maxwell made his way to the Medbay for help. As he sat in the lobby, clutching his stomach in pain he missed the call that came over the radio, "NUKE OPS IN EVAC!" It wasn't until he heard the gunfire in the halls that Maxwell realized something was very, very wrong. He heard the six deep thuds of a revolver followed by the rapid-fire jackhammer of an auto-shotgun. Without any real weapons to defend himself and still very much in pain Maxwell was cornered in the lobby area of the Medbay. When a man in a red space-suit stepped inside with a pistol and a riot shield Maxwell felt a surge of adrenaline much like he had earlier on the abandoned teleporter platform. The man pointed a gun at him and Maxwell immediately responded by throwing anything and everything he could in their direction. Stools, tables, tools from his toolbelt. He scored a few hits but the objects glanced harmlessly off the man's shield and armor. Though Maxwell would never admit it he was certain that his Tajaran reflexes saved him from most of man's shots, but when he felt a burning pain in his chest he knew he had been hit, and even the adrenaline couldn't save him. As he gasped on the floor, vision blurred and coughing up blood he knew this had to be the end. Any second the man would put a bullet between his eyes and he'd die alone and helpless on the Medbay floor. He slipped briefly into unconsciousness and was quite surprised when, a short time later, he came to and found nobody around. He shooks his head to clear his vision and sat up, wincing and clutching his arm across his stomach. Barely able to think straight from the pain Maxwell called out for help. When his cries went unanswered he looked around the lobby to see if there was something that could be useful. It wasn't until he finally decided to check his own backpack that he remembered the first aid kit he had grabbed from the gateway room! Lifting his shirt he slapped a healing patch on the oozing bullet-wound, groaning loudly as the chemicals caused a burning sensation. Then he grabbed the autoinjector from the kit and jabbed himself in the thigh. If nothing else the epinephrine could get him on his feet and to evac. Climbing slowly to his feet he could hear the sounds of fighting out in the hallway. Using the wall for support he leaned out and looked in both directions, his ears twitching as they picked up staccato blasts of automatic gunfire from the bridge. He knew he was unlikely to survive another fight.. he knew that he should head for the evac area to wait for the approaching shuttle.. but he couldn't bring himself to let these Syndicate assholes get their way. He couldn't let the Captain down... He stumbled across to the wall opposite the Medbay door and followed it carefully towards the bridge. Turning the corner he saw another Ops member who seemed to be injured. The man was barely able to stand, much like Maxwell, and when the man dropped his gun Max leapt, nearly vomiting in mid-air from the pain in his chest and stomach. The gun was in his hands! He took aim at the man and pulled the trigger over and over, but he was unsteady and there was little ammunition left in the weapon. Out of four shots only one hit the redsuit, the man quickly turning to face Maxwell, drawing a pistol from his holster and firing back. Maxwell dove out of the way just in time to avoid the shots and when he looked up several other crew members were there ganging up on the man. Maxwell pushed himself off the ground and dove into the fray. Lacking any weapons he began to claw at the helmet of the man, hoping to either rip it off or break it open so he could do some real damage. The other crew members laid into the man too with every weapon at their disposal, from kicks and punches to telescopic batons and welding tools. Before long the man in the hardsuit was deathly still, but Maxwell didn't stop. All the anger in him was coming as he tore at the edges of the suit, ripping and tearing with his claws and bionic hand, every memory of shame and guilt and rage he had felt since the virology conference that seemed a lifetime ago. As the other crew members moved away to continue the fight elsewhere a low, ominous beeping sound began to issue from the red space suit. Five Four Three Two One KABOOM! Maxwell was blasted back against the wall as the Syndicate man exploded in a shower of gore! Disoriented and deaf from the blast Maxwell slowly realized he was somehow on his feet once more. Unfortunately he was not apt to stay that way for much longer. Several new wounds had been opened on his chest Max barely made it five steps down the hallway before he collapsed. Unable to do much but flail weakly and call for help he slipped in and out of consciousness once more. He was only vaguely aware of the sound of someone running past, but he managed to stammer out, "Help..." He heard the person stop and come back to him, "First.. first aid kit.. in my backpack," he sputtered as blood welled up in his throat. He felt himself being dragged as he slowly slipped into sleep once more. When he awoke he was in the medbay, still very injured but somehow alive. The new wounds had been patched up and his vision was remarkably clear. As he sat up and looked around he saw a vulpkanin woman in a doctor's uniform nearby working on another unconscious and wounded patient, "D-did you save me?" he asked weakly. "Yes, for now, but you've got internal bleeding, stay there," the doctor replied. "If I can walk I'm getting to the shuttle, but I appreciate you saving me," Max said as he carefully turned in his seat to lower his legs to the floor. When he found himself steady enough to stand he began to move for the exit, "You've got other patients that are nearly dead, they'll fix me back up at CentCom, I'm sure." The doctor nodded as she went back to work on her other patient, and Maxwell made his way out into the hallway. Once more using the wall for support Maxwell realized he had made a grave error in judgment thinking he could make this trip. His insides, still wrenching from the alcohol, were also now bleeding freely. He fell to the floor a few times and had to rest before getting to his feet again. Eventually he came to the evac lounge where many of the surviving crew had gathered. It was a short wait before the shuttle arrived, but as the crew tried to board the external airlocks stayed firmly shut. Lacking some of his tools Maxwell was unable to hack through the door like he had earlier, but looking closely he could see that somebody had already had a go at messing with the doors, likely to keep them shut. It was by sheer luck that, upon checking his belt, he still had wire cutters, a welding tool, and a crowbar. They would be just enough to work. He cut through the remaining wires and wedged the airlock open. Stumbling through, he was followed by most of the remaining crew, receiving a few pats on the back for his efforts. He took his seat and leaned his head back against the cool glass of the shuttle window, closing his eyes and trying his best to ignore the wrenching pains that gripped him. They would be at CentCom soon, the doctors were surely on standby ready to patch people up. Maybe he would get through this after all. Maybe they would see his medal and the Captain would tell them what he did. Maybe things were looking up for him. Maybe.