Pedantic

Le Contrebandier A jolt shakes the ancient flier, making my stomach churn. I glance about the spartan hold, watching the various men and women manning their stations. None of them so much as flinch. One woman at a console- a behemoth of analog dials, physical optical displays, and receivers- even goes so far as to give me a lazy raised eyebrow. She- and the rest of the crew- have made this descent dozens of times, and likely will make it dozens more, slipping through the radar-shadows of the various peaks of the Gates of Fisanduh to avoid Imperial air patrols and skywatch. The other passengers keep their heads low, clinging to cargo for support and avoiding eye contact with me and my host. The middle-aged man, dressed in warm clothes that hide the bulk of his paunch, sitting directly across from me will be called Stohl from here on out. He is, as the Imperials call him, a Contrebandier- smuggler. Stohl and I were put into contact several months before this, through a mutual friend, and organized my ride-along with him through the Gates. He watches as I fumble with the transcriber, idly lighting a cigarette. “First time flying in a proper aerocraft?” He asks the question in his thick, Inner Fisanduh accent, pointing towards me with the lit stub. I shake my head- immediately regretting the decision as my world spins. Stohl simply laughs in response, patting his knee, looking for all the world like an amiable father, rather than the hardened criminal I’d heard of. He takes a breath, calming himself, before motioning to the transcriber. “Ah, you’ve already begun gathering your tales then, raconteuse?” He seems particularly amused with himself, using the High Morozi term for ‘storyteller.’ I nod back, finally regaining a shred of my composure. “Yes. You said you would be willing to talk a bit about your operation here?” I motion towards the back of the hold, with its nervous forms and heavy crates jostling in the turbulence. Stohl nods a few times in response. “Of course, of course. Anything for my adoring public! I, as you are no doubt already are aware, am a man of enterprise. A man of simple ambitions. To bring the people what they want, be it chemicals, self-defense, materials, or- “He motions to the figures, pointing his cigarette directly at one of them- a man in tattered priestly clothes- “personal safety.” “I wasn’t aware before this that you did anything involving passenger flights.” “That is because I didn’t!” He nods once more, tapping some of the ash from his cigarette. “But some heard I was carrying a spy of the Alliance, and wanted their loved ones moved away from the greater Empire. At quite the mark up, I’d add.” At this point, he flashes a grin towards me. “You have made me quite a bit of profit, simply by being here. And, to that, I thank you.” “But I’m not from Sol.” He waves away the statement in a cloud of smoke. “It doesn’t matter! They say, ‘Stohl, if you can move someone as easy to spot as an Alliance spy, then surely you can move my uncle! My niece! My friend who has said a few too many things after a few too many beers!’” “So, they’re mostly political prisoners, or refugees from the internal security of the Empire?” He hesitates, before nodding, motioning to the man in tattered Tribunal robes. “That one, for instance, apparently believed the wrong words, or said something in the wrong order. That one-“ He motions to a woman, a waif of a figure in an orange jumpsuit, “She is a survivor of one of the big, strong, Seekers. They don’t often miss, and she isn’t about to give them a second chance.” I nod along, remembering the stories of the religious pogroms carried out by inquisitors and their behemoth paramilitary mutants. “So. There’s clearly demand for this type of operation. Why haven’t you been offering it up until this point?” “Trust. The Seekers, the Gendarmerie, the Army, all of them have been trying for decades to close the Gates. Sometimes, they employ saboteurs. Sometimes, sky patrols-“ He nods back to the woman at the console, which I later learn is an old ELINT system for detecting radar pings, “And, finally, they use stings. More than a few have boarded an old jalopy like this, only to land at an Imperial reeducation camp near Strelitz’s Stand. To make money moving people, you need a reputation. Or else, you only get the desperate, and the infiltrator.” He casts a suspicious eye towards the group in the back, before calling out to them in the local dialect of Solarian Common. The transcribe could only make out some of what was said over the whine of the engines. “You hear that [unintelligible]? If you [unintelligible] or try anything [unintelligible] personally throw you on the peaks!” Satisfied, he returns to me. “Apologies, apologies! I do not want such angry words to upset my guest. Now, what other questions do you have?” “You said you move weapons and materials. Does this mean you supply Government-in-Exile forces?” “Ah… you mean [Free Fisanduh Front]? I am not at liberty to discuss any of the final clients of my dealings, you understand. Bad for business, that. But I can say, I do move items for personal defense, and items for making a more… aggressive defense.” “Do you worry that this might escalate the fighting, that if the locals get more weapons, bringing a greater Imperial presence?” At this point, Stohls features darken noticeably. His eyes lock on mine, and chill. “I do not worry about that in the least. If the Imps want to try marching through the Gates again, let them. Let them see a rifle behind every door. Let their vaunted Gendarmerie- those traitors- try to assert its authority, and finally be broken. Let their noble whelps come and be sent home in shame and mutilation.” He leans back, crossing his arms. “I may not be the most sterling of citizens. But I am still of Fisanduh. I’ll be damned if I let whatever the Imps might do control my own actions.” Finishing his cigarette, he tosses it casually towards the hold, causing a few of the passengers to duck after his outburst. “We will be landing soon, raconteuse. I suggest you collect yourself.” He stands, stalking off to the bridge of the aircraft, as the woman at the console smirks to herself.

Foreword: [Translated from Xanusi Freespeak to local standard, courtesy of the XNN] To all my readers, be they from the pitted craters of Xanu, the blistering skies of Burzsia, the humid streets of Konyang, or whatever outpost of sapients you might find yourself here in the Spur: Thank you. Its because of you that I was given this chance to record footage, interviews, and tales of this enigmatic country, nestled in the center of a theocratic pirate fiefdom. Most of the Coalition would consider even coming near this region of space a death sentence, especially if you’ve talked to any of the Fisanduhian expats, refugees, and officials of the government-in-exile. Indeed, it was at no small expense to reach Neubach, and names/idents of those who helped me arrive will be altered to preserve their operations… and safety. But, despite all of this, I think it was worth it to bring you a view of this mountainous, boreal zone without any Imperial filter. Even if it did involve more than a few cramped cargo containers and nail-biting inspections. I also want it on record that, while I did try for a ‘vertical slice’ of Inner Fisanduh, I’m only one woman. There just isn’t enough time to get every perspective, every angle, or every voice. Think of this less as an update of the ground situation, and more of a ‘feel’ of the people here. They have their own viewpoints, assertions, and opinions, sometimes overlapping, sometimes not. They’re all personal accounts, filled with all the emotions, prejudices, and truths of someone in a hard situation. I have put the stories in my own order, for the sake of making something close to a narrative, but other than that, I’ve tried to leave the original emotions and intent here, for an authentic experience. Thank you once more, and please keep the people of this beleaguered nation in your thoughts.

OOC Foreword: Got in a writing mood, but don't have any decent ideas for an on-ship gimmick. So, I'm substituting with fan-fiction about a Xanusian reporter being dropped into the middle of Inner Fisanduh, as told through her interviews. Not sure if anyone'll read this, but, hey, criticism is welcome. This should also be considered non-canon, of course. Just my interpretation of how life in Fisanduh would look from the outside, based on some historical interviews from occupied nations and the various people who live in them. It'll also be broken up by posts, and probably added to whenever I get a decent idea going. Going to eventually put the MC onto the Horizon as a passenger, or possibly reporter, when work/life allows for it as well. Going to keep it in separate posts, not to bump or spam, but to put some kind of organization to this mess of hobbyist ramblings.

Reporting Personnel: Andrea Illazso Title of Reporting Personnel: Chief Medical Officer Game ID: Round Prior to: cmF-dvtN Commended Personnel: -Yumeni (off-duty at the time, Chief Medical Officer) -Avelka Sirrenihir (off-duty at the time, First Responder) -Stavros Monidis (Pharmacist) -Sil Zurix-Orleans (Chief Medical Officer On Duty) - Quisuu Su-Ruusi (Head of Security) Witnesses: - Oliver Roadman (Captain) - Various crew around recovery site (Bar Lounge) Time of Event: Around 21:30 ((Real time: Around 5:00 EST, 3/4/23)) Location of Act: Bar Lounge, moving to Medbay. Description of Act: Right. So, to preface this, I can't put myself down as a witness, because I barely remember most of it. But, from what I've gathered after the fact, I was present in the Bar Lounge when a space carp breached the Lounge windows. I called for help, as the lack of atmosphere would've sealed me in, with said carp. The carp, who as we should all know isn't affected by lack of atmosphere, then began to attack me, preventing me from getting an emergency mask on. This, in turn, led to me being immobilized, likely by both the vacuum and carp-induced injuries. At some point after this began, Quisuu Su-Ruusi breached the room, using the emergency shutters to avoid being suffocated themselves, and provided CPR and evacuation to myself, as well as killing the space carp. They then moved to carry my now incredibly mangled and delirious body through the halls, before Avelka Sirrenihir, a first responder who was off-duty, took over emergency treatment using what supplies she had from her emergency box. At this point my status was this, according to this health analyzer scan: Now, at the risk of breaking professionalism, I was well, truly, and completely fucked. For those of you reading this who've never had to use one of these, the amount of red on there indicates that most of my bones were broken, to a degree that should be lethal, my heart had stopped, nearly all of the blood had left my body, and my brain was swiftly turning into de-oxygenated soup. In addition to this, multiple organs were failing, including my lungs and stomach, and I was incoherent with pain. Despite not being on the duty roster, Avelka Sirrenihir took it upon herself to stabilize and move me to the medical bay, where I received emergency treatment from another off-duty medical professional, Chief Medical Officer Yumeni, who had no responsibility to do so at the time. The two of them, being directed by Sil Zurix-Orleans, then began emergency stabilization on me, using whatever chemicals they had on hand, and being produced by Stavros Monidis. I'm told that without the timely production of those medicines, and surgical assistance from Sil Zurix-Orleans, who had only just arrived on the scene and hadn't even had time to be properly kitted, I would have, without a doubt, died. These absolutely amazing people were able to stabilize me through an extremely rigorous surgery, including multiple reconstructions of my brain tissue and lungs, as well as preventing my heart from stopping, which, it did a recorded sixteen times. They also performed post-operations treatments, and were even willing to deal with the absolute gibberish I was spouting while on oxycomorphine. In my professional opinion, I would've declared a patient in my condition DOA. These amazing people went above and beyond to rescue someone who by all rights should've been declared dead, with more than a few not even being paid to do so at the time of writing, or charging into rooms that were extremely hazardous to their health. And, while I might be biased by being that person, I still think we should reward our staff who are willing to work so hard to save their fellow crew, even when it isn't their responsibility. Additional Notes: One: For those of you who are curious, I was given a readout of the chemical cocktail needed to keep me alive, just in-case you think the pharmacist didn't do enough here: Illazso Chemical Readout Two: A lot of the information taken from this was from various crew I spoke to after the event in question. The damage to my neural tissue was severe, and resulted in a loss of memory of most of the event in question, which was then compounded by the oxycomorphine in my system, making my memories at best hazy, and at worst non-existent.

So. As with all of my posts, I have to say that I am a digital dumbass, and do not understand anything at all about coding, sprite design, or any of that important work that keeps our string of spaghetti and duct tape of a server together. So anything I suggest may not be possible in the code, or could cause horrific unintended consequences. Right, disclaimer out of the way, time to theory craft. So, as we all know, Meteor is the meme mode. Its pure PVE, which essentially is Extended with extra steps. If you like Extended, you probably hate Meteor because your RP gets interrupted by about forty tons of gravel. If you like Secret, you probably hate Meteor because there's no player throwing said gravel that you can beat with the nearest blunt object. So, I've got a few ideas to maybe address at least the Secret player's concerns, since I figure the Extended player just wants to get back to flirting in the Bar. Firstly: Allow the new Armaments to target Asteroid Swarms. Before, we really only had the shields and hull as a way to interact with the rocks. With the new armament system, we can extend that to shooting rock swarms, which in turn would require more of Command, Ops, and Engineering to keep the point defense going. This helps a lot with the problem of Meteor either being completely ignore-able with enough shields, or devastatingly fast if we have no Engineering. In addition, it expands on our current starscape system, by giving the swarms paths they might follow, or maybe spawning A LOT of them that the Horizon then has to navigate or suffer unintended perforation, giving more control of the situation, and making it less of a literal 'rocks fall, everyone dies' problem. Secondly: Put in up to two on-station antags. This one's a bit more complicated, and could be shuffled into a hybrid mode instead (similar to borer's vs. bughunt). While the above solves the problem of Command, Ops, and Engineering having nothing to do during Meteor besides react, the rest of the crew basically sits around waiting to see if they get a new rock garden. So, add in a few traitors or lings, and let them know the Rock is coming for a visit in their antag intro. Suddenly, a lot of areas of the ship that are otherwise not that interesting to an antag, or might not see much use even if they are, will see more action as ship damage mounts, while giving Medical, Service, and Sec something to be paranoid about. The Longbow is having issues reloading? Oh, its because half the loaders are killing the other half. Shields are looking a bit dim after the main gun fired, and ISD is chattering about a masked man throwing bombs? Wonder if those are connected, and if we have enough time to fix it before the next wave? It adds an element the rest of the crew can interact with, while serving as a way to force the Bridge to communicate and cooperate with the rest of the crew. Thirdly: Maybe make random meteor storms or 'bluespace debris' a semi-common event? Short warning period to allow the crew to get the guns up, or hunker down if there's no gunners. followed by a short blitz to deal with or offer opportunities for more play. Okay, screed done. I don't have the stones for any more puns, granite if you give me some malachite time, I could come up with some more.

Going to toss in my suggestion here then: Scarabs are supposed to be a bit of a weird society, what with the MASSIVE environmental pressures put on them by the fact they're a space-based civilization. That's in part why they have things like the Sadar, nearly-fanatical rationing, kooky superstitions, and of course, the aggressive expansionism to make up for resource short-falls and possibly even create surpluses. I honestly like the idea of the Scarabs poking at nearly every major faction for resources, because it prompts that extra societal conflict and gives people who play Frontier characters a reason to dislike them, along with more established/developed factions seeing them as being difficult to work around from their folk beliefs and, again, them putting stations and isolated colonies on metaphorical blocks. Buuuuuut, as the OP pointed out, most people don't play them up like these space steppe nomads. So, I'd suggest a slight adjustment for our favorite Not! Bedouins: Add in some internal politics on the Scarabs. Right now, they're somewhat monolithic, with some cultural shifts and naming conventions between the larger ships, but no real disunity from just how varied they can be. Remember, the Fleet is supposedly composed of ships ranging from relatively recent salvage/'gently used,' to 200+ year old junkers held together with spit, hope, and round the clock maintenance, all crewed by people from nearly every culture you could imagine. So, why not build on this? Couple of my ideas below to help people have more peaceful Scarabs without pulling one of their more interesting traits: Have sub-fleets, or Flotillas within the larger Fleet, with their own take on how to best survive. Maybe have the old guard be behind Irayia, and prosecute a Spur-wide Jihad to unite all Spacers, while a growing post-Contact faction wants to try to take up a less violent approach, attempting to culturally or economically subdue the spacers. Maybe have groups of newer ships that aren't as dead-set on the Folk Traditions be ostracized by the Old Guard and their allies, mostly kept around to help keep resources flowing, but who have a lot more contact with the outside world, leading to more non-Sadar Scarabs roaming about. Could even have some rivalry between them and the Traditionalists, since contact and sub-contracting with the SCC would be pretty lucrative. Could even have a faction within them suggesting the Scarabs settle, establishing way-stations and supply depots that the Fleet uses to support itself, acting as a middle-ground politically: They need new locations to setup, and don't mind when the Old Guard get to shooting, but would prefer to keep the locals happy and non-antagonistic towards their outposts. Hell, maybe Irayia's approach is seen as wasteful by the Old Guard, who think she's biting off more than she can chew by effectively declaring war on the entire Human Spur, and needlessly putting the Fleet at risk while also spreading it out, threatening its stability? Have them suffer a major loss. Maybe have them recently (As in, within the last decade) have lost one of their city ships (New-to-lore, to avoid getting rid of existing chars, or have those be refugees from them?) to conflict with one of the other factions. That'd focus the aggressive expansion on only one faction, keeping the militarism in play, but allowing them to play nice with everyone else- or, at least, the ones who might've helped during that catastrophe. This would have the side-benefit of pushing their resource-starved narrative, since the loss of a city would be a colossal blow to the survivability of the Fleet. The idea is to keep the rivalries and interesting conflicts, but allow for more peaceful characters. I figure one, all, or a combo of these ideas could help with that, while adding some more interpersonal conflict than 'SADAR BAD! NO SADAR GOOD!' and even make it an open question of how the Major factions should treat the Scarabs, since, well, not all of them are shooting at you or stealing your things, or maybe they don't even care much about you. Okay, screed over, hopefully the thread isn't entirely dead at this point.

Okay, from what I've played with them, they're calm, chill, and above all, willing to run with the round, so this is a plus one from me. Looking forward to more command for shenanigans! +1

Tossing in my two cents here. So. As a semi-former phys main, I can attest that its freakin' infuriating to get passed over by the overlap. But, that's kinda the point of Physician. You're the everyman. The generalist. You fill holes where they exist, and support when those holes are filled. You also have a choice in how much of the rest of Medical you want to deal with. Don't like running to the crime scene? Don't have to (unless both FR's got fragged...). Don't like doing surgery? Sorry, no loicense mate. Time to patch you up with sticks and whatever wall mold the engineers brought in. It allows for a lot of customization and role filling in the department, at the cost of being overshadowed heavily in a fully staffed one. And, like Sparky and Cybs mentioned, this is just kinda the natural progression of our mechanics. I do think that constricting it by over-specialized roles would be detrimental to its intended function, and probably lead to at least a few extra headaches for mods. I'm in favor of keeping the current 4 physician slots, since they allow for a larger department, even if its really only in apocalyptic scenarios that you'd need anywhere close to that many. With that out of the way, I'm honestly intrigued by the AP idea. Having basically mainlined CMOing for the last couple of months, I can safely say that having an appointed second in command isn't an unattractive idea, especially on solo-command rounds. Nothing like trying to watch sensors, negotiate with mercs, keep station panic to a minimum, and try to coordinate your department, all while outside of it and probably having to help with Sec efforts. So, having someone whose entire job is to run shit when your gone can be helpful. It can also serve as a 'CMO-lite' option, so someone else can train to share that pain. And, its faster and much more streamlined than appointing an interim CMO while you take acting captaincy, because, do you really think you have the time or headspace to think of that when the round is bad enough the DOCTOR has to be captain? Nope. With this, just say 'You're up Chuck,' and Chuck should immediately be able to step into those shoes, maybe with a quick stop to throw a command headset at him. Admittedly, this can backfire, since if the CMO is really on their game, forgets about the AP, or not a lot is happening, the AP has to sit and spin the entire time. And, it could lead to issues of authority again, but, instead of surgeon vs. physician, its AP vs CMO. Unlike the Warden, the AP wouldn't even have the option of Camera Duty, since everyone burns their eyes out staring at sensors anyway. But, on the whole, I think its a decent addition, at least in principle, similar to our other 'command-lite' roles, and would fit in with our expansion of them going into NBT. Right, that's my lot, not apologizing for the wall of text, ejecting from here biyeeee.

Gonna throw my two cents here. I'll admit to not knowing Tajara lore especially well, but Sarge has a good habit of establishing basic rules for their characters and sticking to them, which, given that they want to play an NKA character, should be a good fit. On top of that, they do take their backstory seriously, having it affect in game activities and generate fun conflict where possible. I haven't seen them use it to cause needless or annoying problems, so as far as I'm concerned, its an easy +1. Looking forward to seeing them in game!

Good god, I've put off this +1 for too long. Love having them on Command staff, keeps a cool head during most situations on top of knowing their departments in and out. Fun to RP with, and I trust them to handle things both ICly and OOCly.

I'm okay with it- hell, I started a little over a year back, and things are DRAMATICALLY different now. Couldn't imagine trying to do a Command role now if I'd spent the last year absent. Literally every department got at least one major change, if not several.

Okay. Fixed the Dexalin part, since that was confirmed by Admins to be unintended and exploit-ey. Also added a few more recommendations to the general plan, since I figure if you have enough time to read through that, the bug is probably fine. At least, for an extra second. Also, reworded the eyes part to make sure it didn't mislead people into thinking oculine works on necrotic eyes, and included a reference to steramycin. Okay, I'm done now, leaving this as is.

And, now, its actually in line with the current build. Mostly. Probably... I'm gonna get a DM in six hours with something I missed.

Oh God, why? Is this something from a new PR? Well, in any case, made the updates to the guide, going to toss this into the back of my brain for another few months until we get another major bug update.

Not bumping, just added in eye damage to it. Somehow, missed it the first run through.