If you wish to comment on this, there is a separate comment thread at
http://starcontrol.classicgaming.gamespy.com/forum/index.php/topic,1776.0.htmlfor the most part, the changes from the version posted by Lukipela are subtle. I will post a summary in the commentary thread.
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In one of the large administrative halls of the Druuge trade world hung Peeru. Head pointed down at her tiny knee-mounted screens, she was sifting through the logs of a very important customer, who was now approaching. This customer was very important because it was the only customer they had had in an embarrassingly long time. It was this customer which might restore meaning to the once-powerful department.
The orange lamps which provided a jaunty illumination to the upper echelons did little to break the darkness below. She had climbed out of the murky depths herself, but she still had a heads-down job. But that was all right. She was pretty high up, and not in a particularly risky position. Masters of alien communication were rare, and those with a firm grasp of numbers were rarer still. The combination was powerful. She had job security.
"Peeru! What is the meaning of this?" thundered Foomp, the director of offworld trade.
"The meaning of what, precisely?" Peeru, startled, abandoned the logs, to look up to Foomp's slow, wide, menacing arc above her.
"I just got out of a meeting concering the incoming Precursor vessel. The presentation you prepared on our offers did not convey to the management the quality of the work we do here. Do I need to remind you how this department has been reduced since our major trading partners were eradicated?" Peeru caught a clearer glance at his face, and realized he was not so much angry as afraid.
"Not at all, Director. My report contained everything we have done, and that is quite adequate; if the management is not happy, it is not because of that!" exclaimed Peeru.
Foomp stabilized nearly straight above her, the most dominant position he could take on. "If it is not the report, then why did I receive a complaint about you from a vice president of the Crimson Coporation itself?"
"Er, which one?" Peeru said.
Why would any vice president even be aware of me?"The vice president of acquisitions. You aren't being productive enough, she said. Well, get productive then!" His chain leads had already shifted away, and the motion worked its way down to his end just as he finished speaking.
Normally, he'd close with a compliment on my work, but this time... can't contradict a vice president. What's going on here?Foomp's admonition had instilled the reflexive need to appear busy: Peeru realized she had brought up a sales chart and massaged it to make it less obvious that the most recent sale had not occurred this year.
No time for that; I need to assuage the ire of the top, fast! Can I call Kahso? He's in Development, which is a lot closer to Acquisitions in the org chart than I am, oddly. He owes me at least a heads-down.Trembling, Peeru keyed her console to arrange a meeting with the assistant director of acquisitions. While she waited, she idly noted that the Precursor vessel was lining up to dock.
Foomp can take care of it from here, and while I'll need to analyze, that can be done from the recording. This, though, is urgent."Development office. Who is calling?"
"I would like to - I need to speak with the assistant director."
"Who is calling?"
"The assistant to the director of offworld trade."
Of course the secretary would stall, so she added, "In case you hadn't noticed, we have an offworld trader present; if any reverse engineering target priorities have changed, we need to know now or the wrong things will be bought. Say, what's your name?"
A moment later, she had Kahso. He seemed to take a moment to recognize her; and rather than a proper greeting, nervously emitted a formality.
This is not good. Everyone knows but me?While Peeru thought of this, she let her excuse come out; Kahso simply answered in the negative. She hadn't finished thinking when the silence had stretched a few moments longer than company policy permitted. Still, Kahso knew her and gave her a chance before cutting off the call.
"Is that all?"
"No! Do you know the Vice President of Acquisitions?"
Kahso blanched. "Yes. Peeru, we're negotiating a PIRR."
"Congratulations!"
If dangerous. She lengthened her chain to him, and can discard him."Don't schmooze me. Just because we had a once I had a PIRR with you doesn't mean I'll lengthen my chain again."
What does that mean? First, Assistant director is not significantly higher than Assistant to the director, so even if we were to reopen Preliminary Investigation into Residential Reassessment, which we won't, it wouldn't be a chain-lengthening. Or is he just saying my entire department is worthless?Peeru, stop quibbling: the main implication is she must be jealous! Distance! Get distance!"Kahso, there were perfectly good reasons our PIRR terminated with no further contract."
"Yes: I prefer my women more feminine."
The abrasive comment stunned her.
What? Just because I have a knack for languages and and chose to study them long after it was clear I'd end up female doesn't mean I don't have a good egg-pouch and a head for numbers. Does he think assistant to the director is a social position, or that any vice president at all is not? What kind of fuzzy-brained man-thinking is this? Does he need to take the offensive gratuitously? Or is she really so jealous that he is he trying to protect me by insulting me? No. Knowing him, he's just yanking me around.But the line was dead before she could reply.
This call itself has put me in serious danger. How long do I have before she finds out and just has me fired? Reassignment wouldn't be effective for this. Peeru glanced down to the great funnel that comprised the floor of the vast chamber. She had not considered in years that it might be her destination.
Her monitor of the Precursor vessel grabbed her attention back to her knees. Foomp was speaking with their captain.
"Since this is your first time trading with us, Captain, allow me to explain our standard operating procedures..."
Peeru looked at the other side, to the captain.
Might as well do my job vigorously so she has less excuse! Some people have been known to survive the ire of directors in different departments, if they were especially productive. Could the same be true of a vice president?She jotted down some notes on his reactions, probing for weaknesses, interests. "Seems unwilling to trade crew."
As she prepared to send the note off to Foomp's panel, the captain said, "I will never sell my crew to be your slaves."
She deleted it and sent out "Emphasize object-for-object trades, he should be more willing."
Better, but I'm not going to get anywhere like this. Penetrating insight, where are you? Oh no, Foomp is taking the "You have the right" angle. That never works! We'll be lucky if he doesn't just undock.Peeru scrambled to review their scans. Immediately, she sent: "Vortex Spawner. Mycon fragments." and then, "Incidentally, that VP is personally jealous of me and wants me out of the way. How doomed am I?"
No response. Of course, Foomp was in the middle of explaining the captain's rights to him. Without missing a beat, Foomp injected into the conversation, "We note you possess a Vortex Spawner. In exchange for the simple device we will give you three Mauler starships and fill your fuel tanks, at no extra charge."
Now this is something, even if it's bad news. Well, here goes: "Forget it, he's too attached. He'd only sell for, say, thirty or fifty Maulers, even more than its worth to us."
Foomp went on, "We know that you have Mycon Deep Child egg case fragments aboard your vessel. Would you consider trading them to us for a shiny new Mauler starship, instead?"
The captain seemed confused.
Here's my chance! She took notes: "Captain does not seem to know what a Deep Child even is."
Oh no. Even if this were a penetrating insight, what profit could be made of it? I'm doomed! Wait! His relief seems to make him even more eager for the sale! Fabulous, we should write this up as a new method! But her hands slipped as the weight on her chains disppeared.
Her scream was lost in the general roar. And then, she stopped screaming.
I'm being swung to one side! Not headed to the furnace after all?The swing finished, and careened through the cavernous halls of the trade center.
Which direction is this? I've never been here before, I think. What's going on?At this moment, she realized she had a message. Tapping her inner knee-toe to accept it, she stuggled to bring her knee closer so she could read it despite the rocking. It was from Foomp, of course: "Very out of the way, isn't it?"
Where is out of the way?Suddenly, the chains slowed, and as the violent rocking subsided she saw a confused captain heading the opposite way. She swung through a bulkhead which slammed behind her, and suddenly, silence.
No, not silence, though close. A humming sound, like the turbines of the great furnaces, but higher-pitched and softer. The walls shook, rocking her in her chains.
There was a soft but resonant sound of metal colliding with metal, and finally her chains settled into more stable positions, though not the one she was used to. As she got her bearings, her displays configured back into a workstation. A quick query: "What is the function of this station?"
"Mauler command station."
Peeru looked up reflexively to ask a question of her boss; but of course there was only the ceiling. Her stomach felt as if it had been sent to the furnace.
Of all the dead-end jobs in the universe, mauler captain has to be the worst! No profit opportunity, plenty of expenses, very few subordinates. Foomp, I had something else in mind!Then, she looked down.
Well, let's see who we have here. I see only two crew here. Odd.A query to the console: "Where are the crew?"
"Three tending the furnace, two realigning the cannon, one on sensors and communications, one on the weapon, one navigator, and one cook. Four are in their resting cubes."
Thirteen. Not bad, I guess. Still, I need to talk to Foomp. Trading should be done by now, Foomp favors the quick deal.She keyed in a request to talk to her supervisor.
In the moments that followed, she considered what she would say.
Complain? A little late now. Thanks? Not hardly. And anyway, what strings could he pull to get me transferred to a starship? He's not naval, he has no authority. Except over the few ships we had for... Oh no..."Zelnick here. Welcome to the New Alliance of Free Stars, captain!"
Peeru quickly adapted, thinking of a question she would need to ask of her new... supervisor. "I expect you'd like to meet, when would be good?"
"How about in an hour, once we're done with the main burn. We'll release the grav mooring and you can dock. Just *walk* right on up to the bridge, you can't miss it."
"I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with that term. *Walk*?"
The captain stood up and moved around his chair.
His arms are not attached, that isn't a restraint! His feet as well. How does his... Ah, he is not just a captain, he is the head of the whole organization. Naturally. But this... walking. Can I do it?The captain sat back down again. "Do you ever take those chains off?" he mused.
"They're terribly convenient for getting around."
And being gotten around."Well, we don't have them here. I can kill the gravity so you can float free, does that work?"
Just like in a resting cube. A meeting in a resting cube -- there's a reason that's a euphemism. But not this time. Thankfully. Or... should I? He is young, serious advantages could be derived. And I'm... unattached. "It should work."
"Okay. You can pop in right... here." The display flashed a diagram of the Precursor vessel with the docking point highlighted; the comm link closed.
Now, I have two problems to solve. First, dock the ship. Second, figure out how to get off the chain network.Peeru hastily explored the unfamiliar command console.
Perhaps it knows how to dock itself. Docking... auto on standard configurations only. No deal. Time to get to know the crew, I guess."Pilot?"
No response.
"Navigator, would you bring us to dock, according to the given specification? I need to rig up the custom docking rig."
Don't let them know how little I know at first.She replied, "Captain... I'm just navigator. I don't know how to pilot."
Peeru exploded. "Foomp!"
An incompetent crew. Just what I needed."Pardon? The captain pilots the ship."
"Who here pilots when the captain is resting?"
"The lieutenant would, but he is, ah, fresh. Captain Faazur had always handled it."
Peeru sent a call to lieutenant... Muugko, the org chart indicated. She tried her best authoritative voice. "Lieutenant Muugko! This is captain Peeru."
A groggy young man shortly appeared, still in his resting cube, though dressed.
Odd, they have comm setups in resting cubes? I guess they would, for emergencies. "Yes... captain?"
"Report to the command center immediately."
"If I may ask, where is Captain Faazur?"
"I do not know. Not on board and not your commanding officer anymore, anyway. I was transferred here abruptly."
Muugko absorbed this for a few seconds, and nodded.
"Very well. We will dock in fifty-five minutes."
Let him look up the conversion. "I am unlocking flight controls to you. You work out how to get us docked to this thing, I have to make a working mooring."
She then set her chains to go to the furnace room.
A mechanical problem. I was always good with those...