I have implemented what I hope is a SUPER useful feature.

From now on, if you reply to a topic, the fifteen most recent posts to it will show below the message form, in order of most recent to oldest. 

This should be particualrly helpful in game threads, where it is handy to be able to refer back to the posts of others, to copy/paste selections, etc. 

Enjoy!

Maybe so!

Okay, folks - the official game time has moved forward to late Saturday night (the 20th). 

Feel free to backpost meetings, social events, etc.  But I wanted the game to move ahead, and have been warning you all that this was coming! 

Stardate 2365.02.20
USS Peregrine, turbolift - 2243

The lift paused for a moment at deck two to admit a slightly short, sandy haired human ensign that Enpok could not recall having met in the past.  This one must be the new transfer; perhaps Starfleet had overcompensated for the awkward bulk of the last new graduate he was replacing?

A ghost of a smirk rested on the Rigelian's features as a result of his own internal humor, though it would be difficult to detect to those unfamiliar with the blue and green whorls tattooed across the greenish-gray skin.  A Jelna Rigelian, T'Darin's oddly colored face was ridged in addition to the tattoos, and his gray hair hung past his shoulders in beaded braids.  While lean in build, T'Darin was noticeably taller than the newcomer, standing just above six feet in height. 

The gold-garbed tactical specialist bobbed his head and offered a crisp salute to the newcomer.  "I wish you a good evening, sir.  I am Petty Officer T'Darin, and I will man the Tactical station for this shift. I presume that you are Ensign Garner?"

OOC: assuming an affirmative

Enpok bobbed his head in acknowledgement.  "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.  May fortune's winds blow favorably upon your first Command shift of the Peregrine."

OOC: any response

The lift opened to the bridge, and Enpok deferred to Garner before exiting.  He made his way to the Tactical station and presented himself to the curly-haired human woman who currently occupied the spot.  "Is there anything that I should be aware of, Petty Officer Wright?" he asked evenly.

Tabitha Wright shook her head, setting the strawberry blonde curls in motion.  "No, sir.  It has been a quiet evening.  The situation is nominal."

Enpok nodded.  "Very good, then.  I relieve you, Mister Wright." 

The human woman gave way, allowing the Rigelian to slide behind the console, where he began checking the various readouts and such for himself. 

 

You're not wrong. Maybe I'm overthinking this...

I fixed the bug inthe log entry screen that made dobled character, characters who are no longer with the sim, etc, show up in the dropdown list. 

I wanted to spiffify the entire page, and I will.  but I felt like it was better to fix the true issue first, which I could do easily.

I got several nice commetns about the post itself.  However, this is the worst performing blog post Ihave ever written on any medium... I got right around sixty reads of the article, even with links on facebook and reddit. 

Make believe Star Trek doctor's note.  That should cover it! 

Just tell the Navy "no".  That's how that works, right? 

No worries, man.  We'll play around you, as needed, and keep your chair warm.

These are some cool ideas, Brom. 

I need to start reading this thread more often, and start doing some of this.

The party waves away any paltry reward that the woodsman might have to offer, but they do inquire about the undead and when they were spotted. 

"Ah can't say as ah've spotted 'em afore, meself," he explains, "though game 'as been scarce 'o late.  Woods 'ave been more quiet, if'n ya ken me meanin'.  Nary a bird for days... a week, mebbe."  He shakes his head.

"Ah been rangin' farther to find meat, was out 'untin' taday.  Left yestermorn, spent tha night in tha woods.  Were 'eadin home this afternoon, saw tha tracks coming from tha northwes'; a whole slew 'o footprints.  Ah saw a man dressed all in black, Ah did, right afore tha dead came outta tha ridge at me.  'e didn't seem none too afraid 'o them, even after 'e saw tha lot.  Mother be me witness, the bastards didn't even look at 'im, they just came fer me - and for me 'ouse and family!"

DMs note: if there are anyother specific questions, let me know, and I can edit that in here.

Later, you do what searching you can in the failing light.  Even in the thick mist, it would be difficult to miss the trail; a great many footprints in the soft dirt lead off tot he northwest, just as the woodsman said the would.  It is abundantly clear that the undead traveled in numbers through here - and it is quite possible that there are more around.

Eventually, the light fades too much for further exploration, and you return to the cabin.  The woodsman and his boys are busy hauling the deal from the cabin, with the boys showing remarkable work ethic despite the grisliness of the task and the tenderness of their ages.  The wife, who previously accepted healing aid without comment, does not lift a finger to help.  She sits, silently, in a chair, staring towards a wall - but very clearly, staring into space. 

A bonfire is made of the corpses, just to be sure that they do not reanimate again.  The night passes without incident. 

It's great fun, Roger.   The rocket kit we used has everything but the consumable stuff (engines and wadding), costs less than $20 USD. 

The drone Noah is flying is very reasonable for what it is; about $50 orr so on Amazon. 

Man, I am so sorry to hear that.  Nobody will peep over a day or two, I wouldn't think.

It was a great time, no doubt.  I expect that we will be repeating it a few times.

As some of you know, I do some blogging about... dad and family stuff.  I might share a recipe or a project; in this entry, I just share a fun day with the boys.  Check it out (and if you like, you can subscribe to the blog, follow the facebook page etc): Rockets and Drones, oh My!

**checks party roster for a ranger**

Nope.

**checkes party roster for tracking proficiency**

Nada.

Heh... "not to be callous"... after making an INSANELY callous comment. 

I would like a post for Aranwen, too...

Okay, everyone has posted in the staff neeting.  Giddy, feel free to backpost Nyle's answers to the various crap that Drake threw around. 

Duncan, Eol - you guys look like you are going to have a social/driking RP to post, no?

Unless someone has an item that is of pressing need, I'm about to jump things forward in time - to Saturday night, to be precise.  Feel free to backpost as necessary.

"Hey, Jackobot, how long is this supposed to take? Does Team Leader need to fill out any of those forms?" Steam asks,

"BEE-DEE-BEE-DEE-BEEP, superior troubleshooter," Jackie intones, "I cannot accurately predict how much time will be required for the superior staff of the PLC to process the requests of the other superior humans, nor am I privvy to information about their requests or the complexity thereof."

It pauses, as if caluclating.  "BEE-DEE-BEE-DEE-BEEP.  By my calculations, it will take... as long as it takes."

Can robots be sarcastic?  If so, Jackie certainly carries that in its tone.

"BEE-DEE-BEE-DEE-BEEP.  I apologize, oh outstanding one, but as I am not personally assigned to the PLC, I have not been programmed with the requirements of which forms will be ncessary for the esteemed Team Leader to complete.  At your service."

The waiting is excruciating.  It would appear that even trivial requests are met with a variety of form requests - some of which are available at the long table, though it does not seem to be uncommon to have a clone sent to come other location in search of either a form or the correct authorization to be placed on one.

As sentiment grows for a way to bypass the line, an Orange clone seven or eight spaces ahead of you seems to have the same idea.  "Here, now!" he states, "I outrank the lot of you, and am on important business for Friend Computer.  All of you Infareds and Reds, out of my way!"

As he begins to push past, one of the laser cannons hums loudly, points, and burns a massive hole in his chest.  Before the clone's dead body can even hit the floor, the Computer's voice emits loudly though the various speakers in the room. 

CUTTING IN LINE IS TREASONOUS, AND IS DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR HAPPINESS. PLEASE OBEY ALL OTHER POSTED REGULATIONS.

AT YOUR SERVICE.

There are no posted regulations visible anywhere within the room.

-----------------------------------------------------------

After approximately three hours, you find yourselves at the front of the line.  A bored, weasel faced, sandy haired male Infared with a nametag of "Stock-BOY" greets you. 

"Welcome to the PLC, Citizens!" he oozes with a pasted on smile.  "I am here to expedite your equipment requests.  Please provide your mission number to begin."

Having just been through this drill with the electrified door, you are all aware of the fact that you do not actually possess a mission number - or, at least, that none has been communicated to you.  When he learns this, Stock-BOY becomes far less helpful.

"If there is no mission number, then no equipment has been reserved for you," he states flatly.  "Thank you, and have a nice day."

Okay, so now what?

I have posts from everybody except Blackthorn.  But I'm not sure how the party wants to proceed. 

Talk to the woodsman or his family?  Take his offers of payment?  Keep moving along the road to the west?  Do other exploration?  Retire to somewhere sunny?

Some are phishing.  They figure a hobby site isn't well protected, but that people are lazy - so if they use a username/password here, they may use the same combo for their bank or credit card. 

Some just like to watch the world burn.

What is happening is that we are the target of some hackers.  They send a TON of requests at the site, trying to grab information from the databsse in some very clumsy, easily defeated ways. 

But they never stop. 

So what happens is that they sometimes fire off attacks back to back to back from different IP addresss, and do so very rapidly, causing a mini DDOS attack against the site. 

I have set up one fence that sees their attacks, matches a pattern, then immediately drops the trafffic and kills them at the firewall level (thus preventing them from making any more requests). 

But they change tactis from time to time, which can end up slowing the site down or knocking it - and the other webistes I run off of this server - off line. 

I'll keep an eye on the logs and work to keep fencing them out.

It looks like the Hexatris isn't going to work out.  However, The George Washington Carver has gotten off to what looks to be a successful start... and the Peregrine is humming right along.

So far, so good, fleet!

No worries.  As I read this again, I realize that I really haven't given you guys much to do except post something like "dude, long lines suck."

I posted one update; there's not a ton ton for you guys to do at this moment, I suppose, so I'll post another shortly (maybe today). 

I will wait until everyone who is planning to respond to the meeting can do so (assuming they can do so soonish... I don't want to wait a week).