Good to see you again, Grumpy.  We'd love to count you as active again.

DUUUUUUUUNK!  So great to see you, man!

Mayhap we have a Trek in our shared future? 

So I saw!  That only leaves PrincessAli, I'll reach out and see if she plans to post soon.  My won post will follow before long.

Lov the characterization, Blackthorn - that's such a realistic reaction, especially since Aranwen was already blaming himself for the pilgrims. 

Almerin!  You're one of the folks I was really hoping would respond.  You were always such an excellent addition to this place. 

I have kids and other interests, too - hence me not spending as much time here as I probably should have - but please don't be a complete stranger.  We're beter with you, even if it' just here and there. 

I've been threatening to wrap this.  This puts us a little closer.

Stardate 2365.02.12
USS Peregrine, Captain's Ready Room - 09:17

The Peregrine was under way, on her way back to Starbase 118, where Drake would certainly be relieved of command as the first step down the path of court martial.  Silas was strangely at peace with the situation. 

Oh, he had railed a bit the night before; for the first time in a very long time, he had crawled inside of a bottle of scotch.  He had taken some time to feel sorry for himself, to shake his fist at the unfairness of the universe, to summon Michelle's ghost (who took a dim view of both his feeling sorry for himself and shouting at the stars), and had come around to a comfortably numb take on the situation.

If he picked the details of the situation apart, Drake would surely find some minor aspects that could have been handed better.  But by and large, the events had been beyond his control, and he had done the best he could with the resources and information at hand.  It hadn't been good enough, true, but he had done his best.  Realistically, that was all anyone could ask of a person; for them to give their all.  

The CO of the Peregrine found himself a little sad, nonetheless; this was not how he had pictured his career ending.  He had long ago accepted that he might die in the line of duty; there was at least honor, closure in that. But to end things like this?  He would never make Captain.  Never defend the Federation against her enemies.  Never explore the uncharted sectors of the galaxy.  And for what?

Sighing, he keyed his communicator.  "Drake to Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas."

=/= Sh'iraolnas here. =/= came the reply.

"Lieutenant, please meet me in my Ready Room.  Drake out."

There were a few more things he could do before his commission was taken.

****************************************************************

A short time later, the CSO sat in a chair on the other side of his desk.  Leaning back somewhat in his chair, the Captain spoke.

"Lieutenant, my impression is that when you first joined us, you were less than thrilled.  Don't get me wrong; I understand.  You are a woman of science, and this is a warship that would appear to provide you a limited platform to pursue your field.  Correct?"

OOC: a response

A wry smile touched the corner of Drake' mouth.  "And yet, you managed to find a way to continue your pursit of scence, even so," he continued.

"Yesterday, when given a stressful, unfair situation, you persevered and came up with a legitimate scientific breakthrough.  Asovil, you saved lives yesterday - and I have no doubt in my mind that your work will lead to more Federation lives being saved in the future.  Your resourcefulness under pressure speaks volumes to your character, and I am proud to have served with you, even though the duration of that service has not been long."

Drake placed a small box on the desk, then opened it to reveal a ribbon inside.  "I have recommended you for the Cross of Alexander; your actions saved lives, demonstrated great achievement, and certainly set you apart from the performance of your peers in the same sort of circumstance.  I have no doubt that this will be confirmed; however, a review board must issue it, as I lack the authority to do so.  In the meantime, please accept this Captain's Commendation for your service."

OOC: a response

"Thank you again, Lieutenant, and congratulations." Silas spoke.  "Dismissed."

Myself, Alacrity, and Grugg are in chat!

Awesome!  Let me reach out to you.

I'm looking for a fill in player for Paranoia.  Check back, though, even if that's not your cup of tea - surely there will be a new game or two needing players soon. 

Noted, Ayrn.

bvberry - yep, that's why Eol and Bromern are discussing burning Atharis' body. 

Of course I remember you!  Dude, it's great to see you.

Grugg is actually semi retired for a while.  Big fella got cancer, was really touch and go for a while.  He's much better now, but his ability to sit and tye for long times is not back to where he wants it, but he pops in from time to time. 

bvberry asked if the latest giggler was a pilgrim that was killed in the road attack, or one that was left alive.

It's hard to say.  You would have recognized the bearded fellow (the leader), as you had more interaction with him.   The others?  Not so much.  The conversion to undeath distorts the body, changes the features.  They sprout fangs and claws, the eyes turn yellow, the skin color changes, the bone structure is just a bit... off.

Two pilgrims died at the claws of the gigglers on the road.  You've now seen two gigglers dressed in those robes.  Of course, they mentioned other losses, so it's entirely possible that there could be quite a few more pilgrims in this state.  And yes, it is possible that the rest have been killed.  You just have no way to know for sure. 

Bud is very correct.  Some of the best Paranoia adventures end with everyone dying before the mission truly begins. 

I'd say that this one is super par for the course. 

Paranoia is not lot most RPGs.  In most games, you work together to achieve things. In Paranoia, everyone is looking out for everyone else to backstab them, plus Friend Coomputer is capricious and usually gives you bad equipment, incomplete/inaccurate intel, experiemntal equipment that is frequently fatal, etc.  Add in that one of the biggest written rules in the book leads the GM to kill players who bore them... and you get a high kill count.

Note that I have wanred you guys multiple times already! 

This is one reason that you have a six pack of clones - to make death not sting so much.

Fantastic!  Welcom back!

Twas a lot of fun.  Definitely need to do it again soon!

You and me both.  I'd love to see them actively gaming here again, but more to the point... I'd love to see them!

Not sure if I covered this yet or not...

Replacement clones retain almost all of their memories.  They do not, by default, recall the circumstances of their predecessor's deaths, and will never know this information unless someone tells them.

I gave up and sent a mass email.  I wonder if anyone will visit due to getting it?

Brighte loyally allows himself to be used as a human stepstool while the Power Services clone cimbs on top to get a look at the power conduits. 

It would seem that if the darkness is possibly due to sabotage and treason, the sabatuer perhaps figured that someone may try to repair the damage.  Ammpe fumbles about in the dark, reaches for his hammer at his belt...

What happens next is difficult to explain due to the darkness.  There is a painfully bright discharge of energy, and both clones go toppling to the floor.  Ammpe groans and pulls himself to his feet, but Brighte makes no sounds whatsoever, and instead lies still on the ground.  A quick inspection (complete with fumbling around, tripping over Bright's leg, and fingers being jabbed in the wrong places) reveals that the HPD & MC clone is not breathing, nor does he have a pulse.  The acrid scent of burnt hair battles with the unsettlingly appetizing aroma of roasted meat here in the corridor. 

Once again, Friend Computer's voice chimes from the same crackly speaker somewhere in the ceiling.

"Attention, Troubleshooter team MAO-17859 Dot R-2. Sensors indicate that your team has sustained another regrettable casualty. Mission success relies upon a full strength team; please stand by as a replacement clone is activated and dispatched to your location.

Have an enjoyable day in Alpha Complex."

The speaker falls silent.

Again, it is roughly a ten minute delay before the same hidden door slides open, and Brighte-R-NNU-2 is force marched into the corridor by a Vulture Squad.  "What did you trobleshooters do to the lights?" one of the Vultures demands, though he does not bother to lilsten to replies.  Instead, they strip the dead clone, transfer his blongings to the replacement, and drag the corpse, feet first, thought the hidden door which again seals behind them. 

Once again, the full strength team stands in near total darkness.

That all makes sense.  If I was an adventurer, I would want my gear to be used, not burned for nothing. 

I figured the reminder was in order.  Despite my reputation, I don't kill off THAT many PCs (this game is likely an exception, as all have been warned). 

I have Atharis as worshipping Jusarin, god of knowledge... so he'd want his spellbook preserved, even if nobody in the group could use it.  His religion isn't overly fussed with burial rites; to be honest, cremation is likely fine (though let's not pretend that lamp oil and a stack of corpses is real cremation). 

Midge will insist that Atharis' necklance (a plain gold band on a plain silver chain, with his initials engraved within) be retained.  It is his mark as a Circle mage, and should be returned to his order if at all possible. 

I actually logged into chat for a half hour or so.  Of course, I was the only one there.

The only thing to do, I think, is to game.  We've always had great people here - insisted that people act decent, so you get decent people. 

I may script out a mass email "drop by and see us some time" type thing. 

Gotcha.  That makes perfect sense. 

I wonder if anyone (Kithran?) will remove the man's purse.  Seems disrespectful, but he doesn't need the coin anymore...

I was swapping emails with Roger (Alacrity) this morning, and was hit with a little wistfulness. 

Today, the Red Dragon Inn is but a dim shell of what it once was.  Ah, but there was a time - some fifteen years ago, I suppose - that this place was busy, warm, vibrant!

Today, there are a small handful of games running to various frequencies.  Back then, there were probably three times that many.  Plus all sorts of off topic chatter, posting games in the forums, and so forth.  The recruitment threads were always hopping; new faces were contantly showing up.

Do you remember chat?  Today, our archaic chatroom almost always sits empty.  Oh, I've talked of revamping it - I've even coded most of it.  But is there any demand for such a thing?

Back then, it was rare to see chat empty; it was an extemely common sight to see two, three, four rooms going.  Some were dedicated to specific games, some were simply in-character chats for those who wnted to escape real life for a bit.  The Common Room itself was always populated, inviting, friendly.  And sometimes, silly or juuuust a touch racy (hot tub, anyone?). 

There was a time when the active number of site staff was probably greater than the number of total active posters we have today.  And they were needed!

There was the Great Crash, and the Great Crash Two.  There were my various flake sessions, where I would disappear into my depressing for weeks or months at a time.  We've lost great people to disease, to accident, to the allure of shinynew technology with new and updated websites, to the wear and tear of life. 

I know that the Inn will never again be what it once was, but I wonder... is there any chance to buid this community up, even a little?

But, even if that is not the case... I want to offer a sincere thank you to everyone who had a hand in building those warm memories.  And to all of you who have gamed - or still do game - here at the Inn.  Happy adventuring, one and all.

So... do you guys intend to torch Atharis' body right here in the street?  Will you recover his personal possessions or burn them, as well?

Ayrn said he'd be spotty this week; I would assume that Midge will not want Atharis' spellbook to be destroyed.  If he does not get a chance to post before my next update, I will NPC him to that end.

No doubt, Artie is a hoot.   

I'm waiting for Keeper to post as to whether or not he follow's along with Ammpe's instructions.

Also... haha, I'm enjoying how everyone is providing rationale as to why they should be last in the marching order.