Rusty Shackleford

Well... for my geneticist character, I always called one on Biesel the Biesel Institute for Medical Sciences...

I don't think the plus rule is in effect anymore. It's up to the staff to make the final call.

Welp. Alright, you win that argument. Unless somebody else wants to step in and explain that's not the kind of atmosphere NT would want to cultivate (which is really more of a lore debate), I don't really have any objections at this point. Party pooper here. Don't think that's the kind of atmosphere NT wants to cultivate. They've already got a bad enough rap, I think, from being the largest trans-stellar corporation in human space. They don't need people running around in leather jackets with teeth and bullet casings attached to them. Also, if you wear a bandolier to a school in 'Murica, or even bring anything that implies bullets somehow are involved with it, your ass is getting tackled and hauled off the premises to jail. Hue.

Avery smirks slightly as the Hegemony ship disappears from the sensors. "That's right, you Hegemon dog. Run away with your tail between your legs." Cira stormed into the bridge. With a deft movement, she grabbed Avery by his collar and threw him onto the floor. She then placed her knee over his throat. "You son of a bitch. I ought to kill you. You nearly got us all blown to bits." He began to choke and gasp for air, and she pressed down a bit harder. Jack rushed over, and with great effort, pulled Cira off of him. "Nobody's killing anybody, damn it!" Avery propped himself up on his elbows and rubbed his throat as Cira struggled against Jack's grip. "I'm going to fucking kill you, Ave!" "Shut the fuck up, Cira! I don't want the goddamn bomb on our ship any longer than it needs to be. I saved our asses for now, but if we don't deliver that fucking thing on time, you're going to wish that we'd been vaporized by the Hegemon ship." Jack stood up with Cira, but still kept a firm grip on her arm in case she lunged for the captain's throat again. "You think this is what Vin would have wanted? You supplying superweapons to terrorists, risking all of our lives just because you have a fucking death wish?" Avery glared at her with sudden intensity. "Ren. Jack. Secure her in her quarters. She is not to be allowed out for the length of our trip." Jack and Ren exchanged glances, before taking Cira by the arms and leading her away. "He's right; we have to get that bomb off the Brahmen as soon as possible.""Sorry 'bout this, lass." "The piece of shit's insane, and you're going to agree with him? He's going to get us all killed!" she shouted, as they dragged her off, kicking and screaming. "When you get back," Avery called after them, "Redirect power to stealth and engines. We're going to have to go dark if we want to reach the Eta gate without another such encounter." Avery walked back to his chair and stared out into space. The ZC pirates had since departed, either by being destroyed by the Foe Hammer's fighters, or having run away at the mention of the true nature of the cargo. He lost himself in his musings.

I would say that my rampant paranoia has been downgraded to somewhat severe to mild paranoia. Meaning I no longer rig shotguns to tripwires at my front door, and such. I've begun writing more things. I now have two jobs because roommate got girlfriend and moved in with her.

Avery began to chuckle. "Once again, Captain, do you take me to be a stupid man? Why would I give you my only bargaining chip, especially since you now seem more afraid of it than before?" Smiling, he shook his head. "You care for your crew, don't you, Zephyr? If you do, here is what's going to happen. You are going to call off your bombers. You are going to shut down your weapons systems. And then you are going to jump away. Brute force isn't going to work for you in this situation. The only thing that will save you is walking away." At that moment, every crew member aboard the Brahmen realized that Avery had gone insane. But they also realized that their lives rested on his gambit succeeding. "So what'll it be, Captain Zephyr?"

Avery tilted his head slightly. "Captain Zephyr, while I may not be the smartest man in the galaxy, I can certainly tell when someone is lying to me. Even if you avoided damage from the blast, the gamma radiation would certainly cook you and your crew to a fine crisp." At this point, Avery only knew that the AM warhead was a powerful weapon, enough to ensure that the captain of the Foe Hammer wouldn't open fire at such a close distance. He didn't fully realize just how destructive the prototype was. "Now, I am not unreasonable. I will hear out your offer. But on my terms. Call off your bombers, and take your weapon locks off my ship." Down below in the cargo bay, Cira resealed the crate with trembling hands. "He's gone mad... a goddamn nuke... we're carrying a goddamn nuke... he's going to get us all killed..."

"Damn it! I knew it was a trap!" Cira tapped her communicator with some force. "Ave, I fucking told you-" "Shut up, Cira. I already know. This wasn't unexpected." Simon was panicking. "What the hell does he mean, not unexpected? The goddamn Hegemony is on our ass!" Maria grabbed him by the arm forcefully and dragged him with her. "Don't lose your shit now, Simon. Let's get to the mass drivers." "Ave, you better have a good fucking reason for being so calm," said Cira through gritted teeth. "Open it." "What?" "Open up the crate, and you will see. The code is 553629." Cursing under her breath, she input the code into the crate's keypad. There was a hiss as it unsealed, and Cira flung the cover open. Her jaw dropped. "Holy shit..." Avery sat in his chair, smirking wryly at the Hegemon's pathetic display of force. "Ren, send a wide-band signal to our guests outside." "Aye, cap'n, readyin't up fer ya." Avery leaned forward in his chair and activated his holotransmitter, speaking into it. "Greetings to you, representatives of the Zulu Consortium, and Captain Zephyr of the Hegemony. I am Captain Foller of this ship. And I'm going to tell you that I don't give a rat's ass about your offer. You obviously don't have the full picture, or you would have not decided to come in guns blazing. You have no idea what we're carrying, do you?" While Avery spoke, Jack turned the ship to face the Foe Hammer head-on, aligning the mass drivers with the hulking mass of the Hegemon ship. Down in the cargo hold, Cira finally came to her senses. "Avery... is this... what I think it is?" "It is. Now scan it, and send it to Ren." "We're fucked, aren't we..." "Not if you scan the goddamn thing and send it up to Ren. Now do it." Cira did as she was told, scanning the contents of the crate with her wrist communicator. Ren then proceeded broadcast the scan results to the Foe Hammer. The specifications for an AMX-35-PA warhead are transferred at the speed of light to the data suites of the pirate vessels and the Foe Hammer. An antimatter weapon, designed to utterly destroy rebellious colonies, and ruin their biospheres for eons to come with massive amounts of residual radiation. A Peacemaker prototype, one of only 3 ever created. One that happened to have been stolen several weeks ago from a Terran Hegemony weapons development facility in orbit around Altair. "Be mindful of your next actions, Captain Zephyr. They could be your last." "You've lost your goddamn mind, Avery," hissed Jack as to not be overheard. "Shut up, Jack. As for the rest of you, you are going to do exactly what I say. If not, then the resultant explosion and waves of gamma radiation will be enough to ensure that both you, and the good people of Darun below us, are going to have a very bad day."

This is the OOC thread, covvy. The RP thread is in forum roleplay section. Hue.

95,000 kilometers above the surface of the planet, the Brahman waited in orbit silently. The ship's stealth suite was running interference on the sensors of any ships that would have happened to be nearby, essentially rendering it invisible. The optical cloaking system, however, had been deactivated. The crew of the ship wanted to be found... but not by just anyone. The bridge of the Brahman was cramped and dark. Cira Mavis, the first mate, paced back and forth, her boots thumping hollowly on the metal floor. "Where are they?" she asked, irritation leaking into her voice. "Twelve minutes. They're twelve minutes late." "Calm down, Cira," said Captain Avery Foller. "Maybe it's a trap." "I said calm down. A few minutes never killed anybody." "Like hell. Lots of people have died because of a few minutes. We should get out of here while we still-" "Sig comin' up!" shouted a voice down the hall. Rene Sevchenko, the communications officer, leaned out from his alcove. "Ain't de hegemoons. Looks like our man, cap'n." "Open up a direct link." "Aye, cap'n." In the next moment, the holotransmitter jumped to life, and a blue holographic cube representing the captain of the other ship appeared. The voice that came through was artificially garbled. "Traveller, why must you be led by hand into Damascus?" "It is because the Lord appeared before me, and I was made blind." "Hello, Captain Foller. I apologize for the tardiness. We had a small delay." "Do you have the payment?" "Yes. Half up front. Half upon delivery of the cargo. Is your man in place to receive it?" Inside the airlock, Simon Havelock locked the helmet of his space suit into place. He tapped on his wrist communicator so that it interfaced with his helmet. "I'm in place, captain. Ready to open up." Tapping a few buttons on the wall console, the air drained from the small chamber, and the exterior door slid open. His magboots keeping him firmly attached to the floor, Simon took several heavy steps forward and leaned his head out of the opening. He watched as the client's ship pulled up alongside, only a few meters away, and aligned its own airlock with that of the Brahman. On the other side, he could see someone standing in it like he was, only they were holding a pair of small crates under their arms. The figure gestured for Simon to be ready to catch the packages, before gently pushing them into the void. Slowly, slowly they floated over to him, and Simon caught them one at a time in quick succession. "Cargo and payment are secure, captain." Simon turned and tapped on the wall console again. The airlock doors slid shut and the air hissed back in. "It looks like our business is concluded here. Delivery of the package will be in two cycles' time." "Understood. Do not be late." The connection abruptly terminated, and the other ship pulled away. A moment of silence passed over the crew. "I hate all these shady contracts we've been taking lately, Ave," said Cira suddenly. "That's captain to you, Cira." She scowled at him. "Just because Vin died and left you in charge, doesn't mean you get to act all high and mighty all of a sudden." "This is not the time to bring this up. Go down to the cargo bay and check on the package." Avery turned to the pilot, Jack Cooper, who had been sitting in his seat silently the entire time. "Cooper, set course for the Eta warp gate. Make sure that we're not seen." "Aye, captain." Cira muttered to herself as she made her way down the hall. Avery had taken Vinnie's death hard, but it didn't give him the right to be an asshole. And if he had a death wish, he certainly didn't have the right to bring them all with him. Coming to a ladder and hatch, she descended into the ship's second level, where the crew quarters and cargo hold were located. She came upon the cargo bay, where Simon and Maria Vespecci, who were the ship's engineers, were standing over the two crates, talking about something as she approached. "Half a million creds, to keep the entire hold empty... just to house one crate? I tell you, something is strange about this thing." "So you've noticed?" asked Cira as she came up behind them. Simon turned around. "It's hard not to notice. Usually we're stuffed up full of weapons and drugs, and... it just feels empty." "At this point," said Maria, "I no longer question what we've got in the hold. It's probably best not to know." "Not even curious as to what's inside?" "Let me put it this way. If you think it's something so horrible, you can be the first to try and pry it open."

>inb4 everyone makes OP ships while I have to be sneaky-sneaky

Why. Can't the people of the world as a whole. Just adopt. A live and let live philosophy. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. If they're not bothering you. You should not bother them. Vice versa. Is it really that goddamn hard.

Since I'm probably one of the few people who doesn't play a chucklefuck geneticist regularly, I'll give some input. In terms of making cloning harder, it should require the creation of blank templates a la The Sixth Day, and require someone to back up their memory separately when they get their genes backed up, to address CMD once and for all. And give it a much higher chance to fail. Bring in minor powers, get rid of the major ones (except maybe xray vision). Give genetics the ability to splice together the genes of animals and plants, to create new strains of organisms. And give them a role in fighting changelings. If you can give the chaplain the ability to fight vampires and cults, then you can certainly find a way to give the geneticist a way to counter the powers of changelings, maybe by injecting them with an engineered retrovirus to keep them from transforming or something. And speaking of viruses, it would make sense to somewhat merge Virology and Genetics to the point that they regularly cooperate instead of hole up in their little cubby holes and never speak face-to-face. Also, I want to make creepy meat plants.

Make cloning a super hard indepth process so people who play dedicated geneticists (cough*me*cough) have something to do if they don't feel like chucklefucking and self-experimenting.

While I enjoy good-natured 'MURICA satire, and while I realize this is a joke, the gun nut in me is a reasonable gun nut, that keeps safeties on, barrels pointed down, and ammunition stored in watertight containers separate from the weapons inside fireproof safes.

Yisssss. Doeeeeeet.

Agreed.

Brahman, smuggler craft, retrofitted Sparrow-class long-distance scout Length: 24 meters / Height: 10 meters / Width: 13 meters She is fitted with a miniature mass-cancelling field generator, which serves as the main source of propulsion and can accelerate the ship to approximately 33% of the speed of light at full power. Small ancillary thrusters near the bow and stern allow for precision maneuvers to be performed at normal cruising speeds. She is lightly armored, featuring the layered composite armor of land battle tanks of the early 21st century. Her hull is only 6 inches thick, with no interior armor. Between the armor and hull is a 10 mm thick ceramic heat shield. While the armor, heat shield and hull would be enough to protect it against light munitions and anti-aircraft guns, it would do little against dedicated anti-ship weapons and torpedoes. She also has little in the way of weaponry.A single point-defense laser array on an axial mount serves as an anti-fighter weapon. However, the pair of mass drivers on either side of the ship have been modified to fire guided hull piercing anti-ship torpedoes that deliver shaped charges, and 20 kg ferrous slugs at 0.8% the speed of light, if a significant amount of power is diverted to them. There are currently 15 HPAS torpedoes and 17 ferrous slugs in storage. Reloading of the mass drivers is manual. She has light shields that surround her entirely, and can absorb the impact of kinetic projectiles or energy weapons several times in succession before overloading. The shields, however, are a significant drain on power. She is equipped with a full advanced stealth suite, which can cloak the ship from IR sensors, long distance radar and combat sensors, and optical targeting. The stealth suite, however, is an extremely heavy drain on power. She is powered by a single hybrid fusion power plant that provides just enough power to operate lighting, console displays, and background runtimes. However, most of the ship's main systems are significant drains on power, and the reactor is not suited to handle the load required to keep them all operational at the same time. She has a human crew of 6, though crew quarters are small, as most of the ship's interior space is either dedicated to housing the main systems or whatever illegal cargo she is carrying at the time.

It means that you should either somehow block him from ever going on our server again and watch him like a hawk, or break his fingers. Hue.

Mother. Fucking. Door Kickers. Found this a day or so ago. Been playing almost nonstop since. This is a game where you take control of a SWAT team from a top-down perspective, giving them orders and generally acting as a chessmaster as you oversee their missions. This game is the lovechild of Rainbow Six and Hotline Miami, with an amazing mix of meticulous planning and intense high-stakes action; missions can sometimes take hours to get perfect, but when you finally hit the right formula, it's a sight to behold. This game is Nintendo hard, as your troopers are as vulnerable as the bad guys to sustained automatic weapons fire. Luckily, as missions tend to last a minute at most anyway, you can restart and try out new loadouts for your troopers, and different breaching tactics; in this game, variety is the key to success. It has 100 single missions and several more included in three separate campaigns, each featuring different floorplans and layouts, and bad guys with increasingly better equipment as you go along. Not to mention the random mission generator and mission editor functions that give this game almost unlimited replayability. In short, throw all of your money at this game. All of it. http://inthekillhouse.com/

I was also having problems with this character while I was the Head of Security on one round. He had to be forcefully detained and stripped of weapons and rank as an officer, and then proceeded to try and stab himself with syringes in the head after he was released from custody.

I do that already, but an actual mechanical safety would be better. It'd also be kinda funny to see people who don't know how to properly use a gun flounder when they can't figure out what to do to shoot at someone.

It's like a spambot has evolved sentience... They're learning...