|Star Trek Mafia III|
Delta Quadrant Deathmatch
|Link||Game thread: Star Trek Mafia III BTSC threads|
|Size||13 Players (Medium)|
|Winning Faction||Indy - Starfleet - Borg|
|Roster|| 1. sparrowhawk|
|First to Die||Glycereine|
|Last Remaining|| 5. Brandonb|
It began on July 16th, 2011, was interrupted after a controversial D5 ending when host went AWOL, unpaused and ended in a tie Indy - Starfleet - Borg in D7 (August 5th).
- Tie lynch on day 1 means no lynch.
- Any other day it means all players among the tie are lynched.
- At the beginning of the day, everyone starts with a public vote on him/herself (i.e. the voting roster is initialized with Player X - voting for Player X). EDIT: Abstaining is not allowed.
- Self-Vote weighter's ability is default x1 and can inflate (like a balloon) to x2 only if day-action is submitted.
- Vote redirectors will redirect a weighted vote as a whole (weighted vote = double-sized balloon)
- Order of actions: Trap >> RID Kill >> Spy (See the wiki for the meaning of >> in OOA)
- Trap = Block + Saves from RID Kill if the target of the kill is trapped, but RID attackers will be informed if their RID was correct.
- If 2 players from the same faction target the same player in a night, they meet and establish BTSC between them. If the third player meets with one of the two (by the same rule), he joins the BTSC.
- If two or more factions successfully RID Kill the same person in one night (i.e. both RID Kill actions are correct and not stopped by a trap on the target), the person is saved by Q, but the role is revealed in the night-post (thus revealing the RID Kill was correct).
- All successful actions are shown in the night-post, including spies and redirects (only the person that was redirected is shown).
Save from Lynch rules
- At night, everybody secretly (via PM) chooses a role from their own faction to be saved from lynch. A majority of at least 2 votes must be reached for the role to be saved from lynch.
- If that role is voted for the lynch the next day, it is saved from the lynch but role is revealed.
- If no role gets at least 2 votes, no one is invulnerable from lynch (however this is only known by host).
- You are not allowed to choose the same role twice in a row.
Host's Notes - Please read BEFORE signing up
- I still have that blacklist I was thinking about after Amber Mafia. This is the first time I will be using it. So, sorry, but I will not accept some players that have proven in the past to be unable to play Hybrid Mafias / 4 Faction Mafias or have proven to be inactive and/or an unnecessary burden for their teammates.
- This being a Hybrid 4-Faction Mafia, it is not recommended for newbies IMHO. Mechanics are quite different from a normal Mafia and if you are unsure if you wanna play, then this is probably not for you. There are plenty of Mafias around that are not 4 Faction, better start with those, learn some strategies, then try something like this. Just don't tell us day 1 that you don't wanna play, ok? I will not un-sign you if you sign up, but please think carefully, read the roles and the rules carefully before signing up.
USS Voyager: During a mission to track down a Maquis ship in "the Badlands", the Intrepid-class starship is transported by an alien force called the Caretaker across 70,000 light-years to the Delta Quadrant, damaging Voyager and killing several crewmembers. After destroying the Caretaker’s Array, the ship is stranded in the Delta Quadrant, merges crew with the Maquis ship and begins a 75-year journey home to the Alpha Quadrant. WinCon: Wins by majority
- Captain Kathryn Janeway: Commanding officer of the Intrepid-class USS Voyager on her first mission to locate and capture the Maquis vessel “Val Jean”. Her decision to destroy the Caretaker Array in order to prevent other races from acquiring the technology has lead to the Voyager being stranded in the Delta Quadrant. Her mission is to protect her crew and assimilate new technologies in order to return faster to the Alpha Quadrant. Favorite quote: "Coffee: the finest organic suspension ever devised... I beat the Borg with it." Ability: Forced to negociate with previously unknown species native to the Delta Quadrant, she is sometimes forced to adopt extreme measures in order to protect her ship (RID Kill)
- Commander Chakotay: A Mayan Native American born on a Federation colony near the Cardassian Demilitarized Zone. He was a Lieutenant Commander assigned as an instructor in Starfleet's Advanced Tactical Training. He resigned from Starfleet and joined the Maquis after his home planet was ceded to the Cardassians and his father died. He was the captain of the Val Jean raider. Chakotay is a unifying presence being well-liked and well-respected by both Starfleet and former Maquis crew members. Favorite quote: “(to Tuvok) You were working for her, Seska was working for them, was anyone on that ship working for me?”. Ability: Can embark on vision quests to help guide his life and spirit and to commune with his father's spirit. His vision quest alllows him to follow a person's latest movements. (Faction and follow spy). His vision quests during the day allow him to enter a person's day-dreams and change his vote (Vote redirector)
- Lieutenant Commander Tuvok: A Vulcan Starfleet officer who served aboard USS Voyager. He infiltrated the crew of the Maquis raider the Val Jean commanded by a former Starfleet officer, Chakotay. After being reunited with USS Voyager, he served as as tactical officer and second officer. Favorite quote: “The strongest tactical move is always the one in which you will reap the highest gain at the lowest cost. 'Going out with phasers firing' may seem heroic, but in the long run it is merely foolish. Retreat is often the best possible option.”. Ability: On odd nights, he can use the Vulcan nerve pinch to render one of his enemies unconscious and carry him to the brig where he can get info through Mind Meld. (Trap and Faction Spy)
Kazon - The Kazon are a violent warrior species native to the Delta Quadrant, enslaved by technological superior Trabe race. After overthrowing the Trabe, Kazon society was divided into 18 sects (the Kazon Collective) that fight each other over territory and resources. While the technology they took from the Trabe (plasma cannons, deflector shields) had allowed the Kazon to spread throughout a small area of the Delta Quadrant, it lacked elements common to the technology of Alpha Quadrant races (transporters, replicators). The Kazon were known to the Borg as species 329, but were deemed unworthy of assimilation. WinCon: Wins by majority
- Jal Culluh: First Maje of the Kazon-Nistrim, one of the weaker sects of the Kazon Collective. Dreamed of reviving the Nistrim's claim to power and uniting the chaotic Kazon Collective and saw the Voyager defector Seska as his chance when Seska attempted to trade replicator technology to the Nistrim in exchange for Voyager's safe passage through Kazon space. Favorite quote: “A fitting end for a people who would not share their technology. Let's see if you manage to survive... without it.” Ability: Can silence one of his opponents with the right ‘arguments” (RID Kill)
- Maje Jal Jabin: Leader of a group of Ogla, maintained a settlement on the planet Ocampa to mine cormaline deposits. The Ogla attempted to prevent the USS Voyager from accessing the Caretaker's array when the Caretaker was nearing death, hoping to claim the array for its own. The Ogla were unable to stop Voyager from destroying the array to prevent the Kazon from using it. Favorite quote: “You have made an enemy today!”. Ability: On even nights, he can trap a person in order to learn his allegiance (Trap and Faction spy)
- Seska: An undercover Cardassian agent aboard the Maquis ship “Val Jean”, posing as a Bajoran. Her disdain of Starfleet and Starfleet principles, such as the prime directive, lead her to ultimately collaborate with the Kazon-Nistrim, offering them replicator technology in exchange for their help in this unknown part of the galaxy. She managed to escape from Voyager, after her Cardassian nature and genetic manipulations were discovered. Favorite quote: “If this had been a Cardassian ship, we would be home now! We must begin to forge alliances. To survive, we must have powerful friends." Ability: Her unique set of skills and genetic manipulation toolkit allow her to infiltrate and observe a target’s actions (Follow spy). Can make own vote count x2 during the day if she chooses so. (Self Vote Weighter)
Hirogen: The Hirogen are a nomadic species of hunters in the Delta Quadrant. An ancient and dominant species in the region, roaming vast distances in pursuit of worthy prey. Their technology is not overly superior to that on Voyager, although their tetryon-based weapons are unfamiliar to Starfleet. WinCon: Wins by majority
- Idrin: Alpha-Hirogen hunter who found out that the USS Voyager was using the Hirogen relay network to send messages in the Alpha Quadrand. He pursues the ship in order to prevent them from interfering with the 100 000 years old relay network. Favorite quote: “Strong prey makes for a better hunt.” Ability: Can use his tetryon rifle with sensor display to track his prey (RID Kill)
- Karr: Alpha-Hirogen who desires the Voyager Holodeck technology for training purposes. He believed that the hunt had consumed the Hirogens and that their race was dying out because of the hunt. With a holodeck, they could keep the hunt tradition without having to spread all over the quadrant to do it and devote more time to maintaining their culture. Favorite quote: “Never underestimate your prey or disrespect its abilities. If you do, you will become the hunted.” Ability: Each night can use an advanced Hirogen movement scanner to follow his prey from a safe distance. (Follow Spy). During the day, he may use his Hirogen mind control gadgets to influence his target's focus during voting. (Vote redirector)
- Donik: Hirogen holo-program engineer experimenting with Hirogen hologram technology in the hopes to create holograms that represent self-aware formidable prey. Favorite quote: Defenseless prey makes a poor trophy. Ability: On even nights, he can use holograms with portable emmiters to overcome a person and lock him inside a prison simulation (which is programmed to capture the target's thoughts and select scenarios depending on the target's race). On odd nights, system is recharging (Trap and Faction spy)
Borg - Pseudo-race of cybernetic organisms, the Borg voluntarily submit to cybernetic enhancement as a means of achieving what they believe to be perfection. In alien encounters, they exhibit no desire for negotiation or reason, only to assimilate. Assimilation is the process by which the Borg integrate beings and cultures into their collective. The Borg have encountered and assimilated thousands of species and billions to trillions of individual life-forms throughout the galaxy. The Borg designate each species with a number assigned to them upon first contact.
- Borg Collective: The "hive mind" or "collective consciousness" - the group mind of the Borg civilization. Each Borg individual, or drone, is linked to the collective by a sophisticated subspace network that ensures each member is given constant supervision and guidance. The collective is broadcast over a subspace domain similar to that utilized by the transporter. The collective consciousness not only gives them the ability to "share the same thoughts", but also to adapt with great speed to defensive tactics used against them. Favorite quote: “Resistence is futile! Prepare to be assimilated” Ability: The collective has the ability of sensing superior technology in the immediate vecinity and follow targets evaluated as threats through sub-space (Follow Spy). Can make own vote count x2 during the day if it chooses so. (Self Vote Weighter)
- Borg Queen: Entity that exists within and served as a central nexus for the Borg Collective with the sole purpose of bringing order to chaos. After Species 8472 destroys a large number of Borg drones in a war to wipe-out the galaxy, the Borg Queen solicits Voyager’s help in designing biological photon torpedo warheads against their common enemy in exchange for safe passage through Borg space and non-assimilation. Favorite Quote: “One order, one voice! Insignificant!” Ability: Can focus the information gained by Borg Collective to eliminate targets which cannot be assimilated (RID Kill)
- Seven of Nine: a Human female (born Annika Hansen) assimilated by the Borg at age six, along with her parents. The Collective assigned Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01, to work with Voyager to develop a weapon to attack species 8472. Her secondary mission was to assimilate Voyager, breaking the alliance, after the threat from Species 8472 was over. Favorite quote: "We are Borg. ... Irrelevant. Your appeal to my humanity is pointless." Ability: On odd nights, she can use modified nano-probes to infiltrate a person’s immune system, rendering him unconscious and revealing the target's race. (Trap and Faction Spy)
Species 8472 - A tripedal and apparently highly xenophobic non-humanoid species whose actual name is unknown. Designation was given by the Borg (other designations: ‘Undine’, ‘Fluidians’) who discovered them a passage to their native dimension – fluidic space - a continuum filled with an organic fluid with no stars, planets or nebulae. Species 8472 has a dense genetic structure, and its somatic cells can become extremely virulent when in a foreign blood-stream, duplicating themselves rapidly, consuming a host from the inside out. Immune to Borg Assimilation. Secret WinCon and Secret Ability
- Unnamed Species 8472: Stranded with his bio-ship, he must attempt to return to the fluidic space.
Secret WinCon: He must RID kill a player from each faction. After eliminating his targets, he leaves the game (game will continue). Alternative, survive till the end.
Secret Passive Abilities:
Secret Active Abilities (Actions):
- Auramyna - Species 8472
- Brandonb - Seven of Nine
- Marquessa - Borg Queen
- Glycereine - Borg Collective
- Yuli - Tuvok
- maurice - Capt. Janeway
- darth nox - Chakotay
Day and Night Posts
|Q returned to the Q-continuum whistling a happy tune. His experiment had been a success. At least for a first experiment, and the universe was so large, it had plenty of samples for experimentation. He already had a list of things to do and was busy sorting them out in his head. "Maybe the Delta Quadrant. There are funny races there. Need to spice it up a little this time. Hmm. So many ideas ..."
"Well, they've been busy lately. Let's see, Borgs invading fluidic space, being attacked back, un-easy alliances. Perfect ingredients.", Q thought to himself as he reviewed the status quo of the Delta Quadrant. "Hmm, need to give the fluidians a fighting chance as well. This will spice it up a bit. Ah, this will make them hate me more... Well, such is the life of a Q!"
|Prelude to N1 (story-only)|
[Briefing room aboard USS Voyager, somewhere along the border of Borg territory in the Delta Quadrant]
“How have you all been?”, interjected Q, whistling a happy tune as he made his appearance in Captain Janeway's briefing room. Her finger clenched on the cup of coffee, but aside from a very brief pause, she managed to take a sip naturally. Chakotay however was much more startled, having only heard a voice behind him. He jumped to his feet, and turned around to see Q, dressed up as a Starfleet Admiral, resting on the sofa. Tuvok merely raised his brow and moved his hand closer to the phaser that rested at his belt. "Q. And people are always saying that space is so big.", remarked Janeway, taking another sip. "Say hello to Q, everyone.". As Chakotay and Tuvok gave a slight nod, Q got off the sofa and began pacing around the room: "Well, I've been watching you for a while, lonely, so far away from home, and decided to give you a helping hand!" "Nice try Q. What brings you here? Really." "Ah, but, mon capitan, you are misinterpreting my intentions. Plus I outrank you," Q pointed to his Admiral insignia on his shoulder. "So, indeed. I might have a game for you." "There goes trouble", sighed Janeway. (to Chakotay) "And I thought my first command would be boring." Chakotay smiled and relaxed, hearing the hint conveyed by her tone. "Besides ... Bipeds pushing buttons. Bipeds replacing relays. Bipeds running diagnostics. When're you gonna do something interesting? Like cutting throught the heart of Borg territory, getting to the Alpha Quadrant in one step and claiming glory for yourselves?" Tuvok intervened, still with a raised eyebrow, "Logic dictates the odds of that strategy are astronomically low." Q retorted, "Vulcans and their logic. *sigh* You should have more faith. And it's not wrong to be afraid of death, you know?". Sounding even more convinced, Tuvok retreated his hand from the phaser holster, following a brief eye-exchange with Janeway: "There is nothing wrong in choosing to live." "A toast to the living then. Very well, straight to the matter of hand. I have a proposition for you three to be Starfleet's representatives in a game of diplomacy and finesse. If you've studied Captain Picard and Sisko's previous encounters, you already know almost everything there is to know about the game. This time, it will be featuring some other races around the Delta Quadrant." Q made a dramatical pause. "Prize if you win: pass GO, get home free, and collect some technologies along the way. Don't pass GO, don't collect.", another small pause. "And I just happen to know you're just the right persons for this.", added Q with a smile and a courteous nod. "Flattery is the food of fools, Q. But we'll consider it.", added Janeway returning the nod as Q disappeared in a flash. "Thoughts?" Janeway to the two. As Chakotay hesitated, Tuvok started: "To quote the Ambassador Spock: The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. But giving all the information we have from past encounters with Q, he is not to be trusted in any way. I can only conclude that the reward he presented is very attractive, and perhaps the odds are better than our current ones." Chakotay stopped him: "Tuvok, that is perhaps the most borderline adventurous statement I've ever heard you make. I hate to have to be the Vulcan here, but ..." Janeway stopped him with a wave of his hand while taking another sip of coffee. "I believe he is trying to get a point across using sarcasm. *Shrug*. Tuvok, we've served together for a long while, level with me. You're saying we face unknown, but not very good odds with Q and it would be reckless to pursue this course of action, correct?" Tuvok nodded: "I was trying to imply just that. I'm glad the message was received. I was just trying a different communication strategy in the hopes of avoiding another potentially reckless endeavour." Janeway smiled and leaned back into her chair, a glitter in her eyes as she looked out of the window to the stars: "Yes, we are gonna pursue Q's offer. For the prize and the fact that we probably don't have any choice in the matter. I can't really see Q and free will stick together in the same sentence. (still smiling, to Tuvok) I never realized you thought of me as reckless, Tuvok." Tuvok leaned back, raised his eyebrow again, unsure for a second, then continued: "A poor choice of words. It was clearly an understatement." Chakotay burst into laughter, joined just a second later by Janeway. Outside, invisible, Q smiled to himself and rushed to his next stop.
[Near an abandoned mining settlement destroyed in a Kazon sect border skirmish, deep within Kazon territory]
"Maje Jabin, glad you could make it," started the First Maje Culluh of the Nistrim. "We hope that your journey was well!", added Seska, one step behind Culluh. A terrifying glance from Culluh silenced her and she retreated one step. "Silence woman!". Returning to Jabin, "Forgive my aide's manners, she grew accustomed with her Quadrant's habits, but is still useful alive, at least from time to time." Jabin nodded, no attempt to hide his contempt, "The rumors of how low the Nistrim sect got have reached my ears, but I did not believe it till I saw it with my own eyes. What you do to your women, allowing them to speak ... that is simply disgusting. More to the purpose of this meeting. You mentioned a tribute in resources." As Seska took half a step forward, Culluh pinned her down with a menacing glance "The Ogla have still kept the Kazon spirit strong. But last I hear, they were unable to defeat the Alpha ship either. More so, they lost a whole planet and a lot of resources recently. Here is where my proposition lies. Together we can enlist the help of several more sects, not all eighteen, but at least another five, and take on Voyager together, as a pack. Wolves hunt in packs when no individual can take his prey down". "Fine.", growled Jabin. "Surrender the Nistrim fleet to me and I'll think about it. In the meantime, we will take your resources as supplies." Culluh managed a smile, but was clearly beginning to lose patience, "Clearly, you got the strenghts reversed. The Nistrim have enough technology borrowed from the Alpha ship that it can take the Ogla, the Oglamar and the Halik right this day. And we already have a truce with the Kazon-Relora. So, it's better to return to the matter at hand. In return for your participation in the attack on the Alpha ship, the First Maje of the Ogla, you, will have a share of the technologies we gather." Despite the reassuring tone, Culluh was already cursing Seska in his mind. And cursing himself too for agreeing to such a pointless and dangerous meeting. "Under your leadership, hah! You are delusional! ", laughed Jabin "I'm wasting valuable time here", he threw over his shoulder as he turned around, completely confident after his initial scans had shown there was no concealed weapon of any sort. At that precise moment, Q chose to make his appearance: "Well, well, if it isn't a secret Kazon meeting of some sorts I just barged in!", intervened Q. His appearance startled Culluh, who took a step back, and froze Jabin in his tracks. Only Seska, hot blooded like any Cardassian, drew her poisoned hairpin out and threw it at Q's throat. Q froze the hairpin in the air, at arm's length in front of him, smelled it and nodded appreciatively: "Cardassian training, so rare in this Quadrant. Leave no potential enemy alive if all else fails, right? Well, you're in luck today, I have a proposition you can't refuse nor backstab. Literally can't refuse." Q added in a menacing tone. As Jabin turned around and Culluh tried to regain a posture fitting for a First Maje of a lesser Kazon sect, Q continued: "You will take your vengeance on the evasive Alpha ship and gain enough resources to reunite all the Kazon sects. All you need to do is participate in a game." As Culluh drew air in his lungs to turn his posture into a more aggresive one, Q turned to Seska "Brains, rather than muscles." "We're listening..." answered Seska, for the first time unchallenged by any of the two Kazon males present.
[Hirogen relay station, somewhere in the Delta Quadrant, several Hirogen ships docked.]
Alpha-Hirogen Idrin and Alpha-Hirogen Karr were in a heated argument. "The holographic prey is a pathetic prey. Easily taken. The hunts are not satisfying. Get your technician to release the safety protocols. Otherwise, we have no need for the technology", shouted Idrin. Karr looked at Donik, who attempted to hide in a corner, eyes down, unable to look at either Alpha-Hirogen: "Humans were not pathetic prey - you failed to get relics from them, while I managed to take this technology from them. And this technology is worth a thousand relics. Those safety protocols are there for a reason, the same reason I stole the technology ... it will ensure our survival as a species." Q smiled as both the Alpha Hirogens' moved their noses and turned their heads around to look at him. "Hello there. Sorry to disturb. By all means, continue. Afterall, a Q can wait!". Idrin brushed Karr aside and faced Q: "Who are you? You look like that pathetic human prey. I could snap your puny neck with one twist. Hardly worth taking. I want information. Who are you violate our property? Answer me." Q's smiled turned into one of his classic grin as he rose up changing his appearance to that of a fabled race, long extinct, with metal harnesses exo-scheleton, previously unseen by Hirogen. His voice thundered "I AM A Q! HIROGEN ARE A PATHETIC PREY FOR THE Q, NOT WORTH PURSUING. I AM HERE ONLY TO THROW YOU SOME BONES. SO LISTEN UP!" Karr pushed Idrin aside, signaling Donik to back out slowly behind him and use his Starfleet issue PADD: "I've heard about your race from the logs we've stole from the humans. Speak your intent!". "Well, I'm here to give you a challenge. Hunt a few of the lesser races, which I'm sure you can handle with your eyes closed, and an exotic one, previously unseen, previously unclaimed: Fluidians / Species 8472. Besides claiming the relics of the chase, I will solve two of your problems if you win: diminishing numbers and new hunting grounds. Your cloning problems can be reversed to regain DNA purity and there are a couple of hunting grounds previously unseen by any Hirogen. Dangerous exotic prey waiting to be hunted. First of their kind. You will be envied." As Idrin's nostrils fluttered anticipating the hunt, Karr threw a glance at Donik who nodded negatively. This was not one of Donik's holograms and his scans had not found anything four thousand kedriks around the station. "We will consider it." Q smiled again, this time looking at Idrin: "You will do more than consider it. Your eyes can already see the unusual exotic relics this hunt will bring. I'll be back in a day to take you to the location of the hunt!"
[Borg Queen's Chamber, deep within Borg territory]
The Borg Queen was mumbling out loud as she received signals from the Collective: "We found another. Spatial grid three two six, Cube one one eight four. Continue. (as another woman is reassimilated) Welcome back. Spatial grid nine eight two, Cube four six one.". Suddenly, as Q appeared, the mumbling stopped. "Hello. Busy? I can drop in at a later time if it's not appropriate. Oh, let me get that for you ...", smiled Q and interrupted the link between the queen and the Borg Collective with a snap of his fingers. "Oh, almost forgot, I must fetch your favorite pet for this.", clapped Q and transported Seven of Nine from Unimatrix Zero. Her mechanical eye moved around, then focused on Q, a red light emitted by her ocular implant. A level below, a drone had awoken as soon as the link was interrupted. As it entered the Queen's chambers, he recited in low menacing unmodulated voice: "We are Borg. You are to be assimilated. Resistance is futile!". "Now isn't that cute!", laughed Q. "Qs cannot be assimilated. Qs can assimilate you all with a snap of the finger", Q silenced and frozen the drone along with all the other drones around the Borg's chamber. "You are here only to watch while I'm talking to your individuals." Q moved his glance and threw Seven of Nine a thorough visual inspection. "See anything you like?", Seven broke the silence with a smile. "Hmm, just a little intrigued. So, she/they decided to keep you as an individuality, interesting experiment. The Borg have changed a little." Seven lifted her chin, still smiling, "Well, the Q have changed as well. I expected some form of quick Q-assimilation, not conversation." Q laughed, "I see she's given you a sense of humor as well". "My humor is my own." replied Seven in a bitter voice, as she exchanged a glance with the Borg Queen. Q took a step back, whistling a happy tune: "Spoken like a true individual. This just adds a nice little twist to what I was planning." Returning to the Borg Queen, he continued: "So, here's the deal. You've been struggling to assimilate this whole Quadrant at a painfully slow rate for a while now. And you've reached an impenetrable wall with species 8472. I can change all that. Show you a couple of places, powerful races, almost extinct, ready to be assimilated. This will speed up your race for perfection. You could even assimilate species 8472 after assimilating those exotic races. But you need to win that prize in a game first." The Borg Queen remarked out loud, perhaps to herself, or perhaps to the silent drone in the corner, still linked to the Collective: "Such a daring creature. A quality we sometimes lack. We will add your distinctiveness to our own some day". "Dream on, that day will never come. Right, almost forgot, your drone here has all the information on the game linked to the Collective Mind. I will let you all chat for a while, then come back for ya'.", winked Q and disappeared. "Oh, and no link for you till I get back." added Q's voice over their heads. After a few nanoseconds verifying that the link cannot indeed be re-established, the Queen turned to Seven: "Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01. Assessment?" "From both our records and the logs I managed to study on my brief visit to the Voyager, he is not to be trusted in any way. However, his assesment of the situation is correct. The Borg must succeed where primitive races will fail. " The Queen turned to the drone "I trust the Collective will continue while we are apart from each other. Bring me a highly-resistant drone to serve as a permanent link to the Collective. We are Borg." The drone nodded, then slowly backed out of the chamber.
[Inside a bioship floating outside the sensor range of a Borg Nexus, somewhere in the Delta Quadrant]
Q moved into the bioship just as the Fluidian stepped out from the consoles. The flesh of the bioship sensed the presence of an intruder and signalled it immediately to the Fluidian throught the small range telephatic link they shared. The Fluidian turned around, moved his gravity on his back leg and jumped through towards Q's position, extending his claws for attack. Q stood his ground and allowed the Fluidian to pass through him and bump against the bone bulkhead behind him. The Fluidian regained balance on his two front legs and shook his head for a second. As Q lifted himself in the air, or more accurately in the fluidic atmosphere inside the bioship, the hull of the ship could no longer feel his presence, his pressure on the hull. Retreating with his back towards the bulkhead, the Fluidian assessed his situation. His species was highly intelligent, able to control primitive impulses. So, even if the ghost trick Q had pulled on him was an utter surprise for a fluidian, he resisted the urge to attack again. The pheromones he could sense in the fluid atmosphere after passing through Q belonged to one of his own, though his eyes told him he was looking at a member of a savage inhabitant of this universe. Confused, the Fluidian froze and telepathically initiated a thorough inner scan of the bioship and another proximity scan, while fixing Q with his two big eyes. Q stood for a while, moved his head around, blinked a couple of time, then with a calculated move, turned his back on the Fluidian. Half expecting an attack, Q counted up to 10 in his mind, before turning around, slowly. The Fluidian rotated his head to the right at a 45 degree angle, then slowly rotated it back. A full minute later, he turned his back to the Q and made a full rotation. Q waited for a few seconds, then started to speak: "Good. I was afraid that wouldn't work for an advanced race such as yours. Let's talk about you now. You are here alone. Trapped behind enemy lines. Abandoned by your kind after a hasty retreat. Gathering info, but with no hope to return." The Fluidian raised his head and managed a short growl, an almost forgotten remnant of their race's primitive means of communication. "Yes," replied Q, "I know the feeling. I will show you a way out, for a price. If you manage to do something, you may return to the fluidic space, with all the information you have gathered stalking the Delta Quadrant inhabitants." The Fluidian growled again, this time his speech lasted for more than 30 seconds, repeating several sounds. "Of course I can do that something myself. You miss the point. Gaining your freedom is for you to win on your merit alone. No freebies. I don't take sides. I will only provide you with an opportunity." The Fluidian twisted his head again, read the flow of scanning information the bioship provided him with, then emitted a short growl. "Good, I knew you wouldn't pass this up. Finish your repairs/healing. I'll be back.", Q said before disappearing in a flash. The Fluidian stood there for a second, shaking his head and growling a low tune. The ship trembled for a full ten seconds, and a short breeze was felt through the fluidic atmosphere. He opened his nostrils and absorbed the substances in the flow, he moved towards the console and crossed his three legs looking out at the unfamiliar glitter of the thing these primitive races called stars. The expression on his face could only be described as a mix of bewilderment and hope. If only there were another member of his race around to see it.
“Wow,”, Q thought to himself, “that’s an even crazier bunch than the last time. This is gonna be fun! Now to prepare a proper location ... ".
|Night 1 - Tinker, Trapper, Stalker, Spy|
|Q found a nice quiet system with several M class planets. Remnants of ancient wars cluttered the system, mostly out of sync abandoned automated stations which had ceased to function a long time ago. Qs are most always assumed lazy. But always count on a Q to clean up the rubble if he needs the space. Anxious to start his deathmatch, Q had started an ion storm that sweeped the system. Destroying all archaelogical relics and forever denying any right to be remembered that ancient race had probably wanted. "Out with the old, in with the new, that's what I always say!" whistled a happy Q, unaware that his own immortality would make him a perfect candidate. He summoned his standard Dyson sphere and built a huge orbital ring inside of it, fitted with all the. This time around, he chose a wider set of gizmos for all sides to use, and ran a couple of simulations till he found the appropriate ingredients ... then he went back and gathered each of his puppets. He left their ships in orbit over different planets and transported all of them on the orbital ring. Let the games begin ...
Tuvok made a thorough inspection of the quarter provided by Q, served himself from the replicator, studied the strange alarm clock which had been welded to his belt, then sat down in the center of the room. He had once again been drawn in chaos' path against his better judgement. "Structure. Logic. Function. Control. A structure cannot stand without a foundation. Logic is the foundation of function. Function is the essence of control. I am in control. I am in control.. As he found his inner control growing stronger, his mind responding to the training, a door previously concealed in a wall hissed open. He waited for a couple of seconds, then rushed out to see a corridor stretching in both directions. Though his quarter's interior had been re-created to mirror standard Starfleet quarters, the corridor was built in rock, in a clearly alien design. He could not pinpoint the design as belonging to any of the alien cultures he had studied. And for a Vulcan, that was a true mystery. He studied the surrounding walls, establishing points of reference for his way back, then stealthly took one of the branches of the corridor. After a while, as the corridor branched to the left and right, he heard steps and doubled-back in one of the dimly lit crevices he had previously passed. He controlled his breathing, almost to a stop, hearing the steps closer and closer. As a shadow passed him, he heard a quiet mumbling. He peeked outside and saw an unarmed humanoid several steps away, back turned, heading towards Tuvok's quarters. With no time to waste, he jumped out after the shadow and managed to touch his shoulder and deliver his nerve pinch just as his target maurice heard his steps and started to turn around. The shadow collapsed and Tuvok checked its vital signs. Unconscious. All senses alert, Tuvok followed the corridors in both directions to ensure there was no one else around, then returned to the limp body on the floor. Species was unknown to him, humanoid yet not discernable. But as Tuvok had seen in the mirror in his own quarters, Q must have transported all of them in other bodies, he could not even recognize himself. As he pondered his current situation (which for Vulcans actually takes a while), he heard a low-tone moan and saw his target move a couple of fingers. Great, it seems this humanoid race was highly resistant to the nerve pinch, or perhaps had extra redundant organs or nervous systems. Again, rushed by factors outside his control, Tuvok grabbed his target's head with both his hands and positioned his indexes for a Vulcan Mind Meld. It took a very long while for a link to be established, and a wave of the stranger's outermost thoughts reached Tuvok, who broke contact. Tuvok stood there, pondering if it was wise to force the Mind Meld stronger, but decided against it, as his own body had already begun to experience extreme lack of energy symptoms, most probably because it was not trained to sustain Mind Melds. Tuvok decided (obviously) for a prudent course of action, so he carried the body and left it in the crevice he had used for hiding. Just as the alarm clock on his belt started to ping, he rushed back to his quarters. As the alarm stopped, the doors to his quarters hissed and sealed, leaving a puzzled Tuvok once again in his new found quarters.
Seven of Nine woke up in her alcove aboard Q's orbital ring. She did not found a link to the Collective upon waking, but she had grown accustomed to not having it around, following the isolation she had to endure on Voyager, continued by the Borg Queen as an experiment of having the first individual drone. Seven ran a quick system check on the mechanical parts and saw several inconsistencies pop up. Her nanoprobes had been tampered with, but fortunately she could still use them as probes. Assimilation was out of the question for now. Parts of her exoskeleton and mechanical implants had also been removed. Her exterior appearance had been altered by Q, did not match any of the catalogued species, vaguely humanoid. Her internal Borg-enhanced cardio-pulmonary system had remained intact and had been charged by the alcove. She took two steps out and examined the surroundings. The eyepiece had been removed, and she was no longer able to see everything within the EM spectrum. However, the physical memory had been unaltered, still giving her access to the mission parameters and briefing data. Her only implant left untouched, a close range subspace scanner, signaled an unidentified, possibly unasimilated being near, half a click in the direction of the nearest wall. She breached the wall with her fist and crawled through the hole. As the mission parameters stated, she had to acquire information using non-lethal force, which was a very unique mission for a Borg drone, but perfect for this particular Borg experimental individual drone. She followed the signal around until a pattern could be discerned. Retracing her steps and taking a left instead of a right she jumped just in front of Glycereine. She pushed him against the wall and quickly pierced him along the neckline. Glyc's limp body fell to the floor, as Seven analyzed his blood. Most of the DNA belonged to the same race as the body Q had thrown her into. But somehow, a remnant of the original DNA was barely discernible and Seven smiled adding the information to her memory for later use. Noticing an unexpected weakness in her right leg, she slowly retraced her steps back to the alcove for a recharge. The flesh components in her new body needed a longer cycle of feeding than originally anticipated.
Chakotay awoke in his quarters on Q's orbital ring. No doors were in site, but he found his baggage next to the bed. He took a deep breath, calmed his senses, then took the stones out of the leather pouch he always carried around. It was time for Pakra, one full year since the last time he had honored his father's death. His duty had to be accomplished before he embarked on his spirit quest for the night. "A-koo-chee-moya. I pray on this day of memories, to speak to my father - the one whom the wind called... Kolopak. Though I'm far from his bones, perhaps there is a spirit in these unnamed skies who will find him, and honor him with my song. A-koo-chee-moya." Undisturbed by anyone, he spent hours in that state. After he slowly gathered the stones back in the leather pouch, his hunger got the best of him. Replicated mushroom soup was hardly the food of kings, but it provided him with both energy and that very special flame that would enable him to enter the eagle eye's vision. Several hours later, he opened his eyes, dizzy and dehydrated. He had followed a lifeline to it's source and back. Time would help him sort those brief visions from hallucinations. And sleep.
Seska woke up in a Cardassian bed. She stretched her muscles, rolled down of the bed and searched the quarters. No one was in. She was a little impressed as she found the baggage with her improvised trade-kit next to the bed. As a Cardassian Order operative on her first assignment, she had undergone several days of surgical alteration and had travelled as a stowaway for a whole month on a Cardassian freighter, waiting to be "rescued" by the Bajoran resistance. This time, all Q had to do was clap his hands and here she was, in a velvet-covered bed mind you, all ready for action. If only her former Order colleagues could see her now. She even considered an allegiance change, but Q probably did not need someone with her skills, omniscient and all. Or maybe Qs need spies. Everyone needs spies. Seska looked in the mirror and discovered the face of a male humanoid staring back at her. Used with the surgical alterations that were the basic ingredients of any infiltration, she was not startled by her discovery. However, she resented having someone else do that. It felt too impersonal, too rushed. "Art cannot be rushed", she smiled to herself, and added a few touches using her tools. Little changes, nothing obvious, taking advantage of this race's big brows to camouflage her eyes better. Useful trick for a spy, to fool others about her intentions. Or at least the direction of her glance. As she went outside her quarters, instead of the crowd normally found on an orbital station, she found a maze of empty corridors. Great day for a spy, to walk alone, poking his nose here and there. Sticking out like a Talarian bee in a room full of flowers. Time for plan B. There were other skills taught in the Obsidian Order, specifically designed for scenarios like this. She found a crevice in the walls, close to a junction, and began to wait. Cardassians are not renowed for their patience, but Seska was a survivor. So she waited till she picked up a scent. Her target passed her by, unaware of the two eyes staring down at him. Lurking in the shadows was Seska's second nature, so she had no problem in following her prey around till it reached the end of its journey.
Karr awoke in an unfamiliar setting. His nostrils flared as his memory came and he remembered where that accursed smell came from. He had researched and planned a holodeck hunt of an extinct species from the Glaxian system. The Q-being must have taken him from the Hirogen holodeck simulation and replicated that primitive environment all around him. He looked around and saw the inside of a hut used by the primitive inhabitants of Glaxian II. Two of their renowed bows, with quadruple strings, lay on the wall, and a fire (or an emulation of the fire) was the source of the smell. Apparently, the inhabitants used to ... aid themselves by burning a strange indigen mushroom and inhaling the smoke before a hunt. He was very glad that he didn't actually push for an exact replica of a Glaxian hunt, and had only programmed the holodeck simulation to emulate the smell, with none of the side-effects on the Hirogen nervous system. He estiguished the fire, blew his nose a couple of times, then continued to search wearing a piece of cloth over his nostrils. His eyes glowed as he found the Hirogen movement scanner that he had taken as a precautionary measure to the holodeck. "Now, to find some prey", he smiled to himself as he tried to exit the hut. Turns out the door of the hut was a fake, mimicking the outside environment. He sat down, trying to remember Q's exact words and what he was doing in the holodeck before Q had whisked him away. Then, "Computer, stop simulation! Priority Alpha-Karr-Two-Three-Three-Alpha". The walls resumed their original yellow on black grid appearence as Karr facepalmed himself. Technology like this needs some time to get used to. He was standing in the center of the grid, no arch or door in sight, only a Hirogen movement scanner in his lap. His clothes were alien, as were the hands, oh wait, his nostrils felt different as well. A few attempts later, Karr understood that he had been transported in a new body. As he was struggling to remember the override codes he had gained from the Federation in the exchange, an arch appeared out of nowhere and a door hissed. He went out, cautiously, to find an empty corridor. As he explored, scanner in hand, he quickly found movement in what seemed to be a parallel corridor. He was used to stalking his prey, so he followed it through the maze, keeping the distance, trying to determine it's intentions.
The Fluidian paced around the small quarters. Though his species could genetically modify their external appearance, as well as the function of several of their internal organs, the lack of a fluidic atmosphere aboard Q's orbital ring gave him early withdrawal symptoms. Species 8472 was not used to this ... emptyness. He started to mumble an old nursery rhyme he had once learned by heart. After a while, the new muscles and limbs he had acquired slowly reduced their trembling and he was finally able to sit down. Having only two legs was straining his sanity, and discouraged any form of meditation. He simply couldn't find any value in the eternal imbalance of his current form. Also, he could feel a graviton field, normal for this universe, but highly imbalancing for one used to float through fluidic space. Away from his bioship, his one and only companion, he was slowly sinking to the depths of despair. Each fact he found added to his mood, no ray of sun, no light of hope anywhere. He used the fragile upper limbs of his new body to search the quarters and came up empty-handed. His primary instincts overwhelmed him as he turned the room upside down, destroying most of the surrounding objects. Once there was nothing to break in sight, he started pounding at the wall, blood drips falling to the floor. One of the walls was thiner and no match for a Fluidian in a rage, even in the body of a weaker race. He found himself in a larger corridor, lights everywhere. His eyes did not hurt, but his mind was not accustomed to all this light, so he perceived the lighting as a threat. He started running around, breaking anything that emitted light, except for a few inaccesible spots on the ceiling. As his energy levels seemed to drop, he collapsed to the ground, right outside his quarters, unable to move, unable to think. He quickly lost track of the time and only moved when distant sounds came from one of the corridors. He searched for a spot and hid just as someone came around the corner. Upon seeing the destruction on the corridor, the stranger decided to make a haste retreat. Seconds later, as adrenaline jump-started his host body, the Fluidian followed in his tracks and knocked the stranger down. The Fluidian smelled him for a while, gathered a positive id of the stranger's race, then ran away to a less vulnerable position.
|Day 1 - Parallax|
|The day alarm shrieked in all the quarters at once, catching most of them off-guard. Since all of them shared host-bodies belonging to the same race, the sonic wave of the alarm was supposed to have the same effects. However, xeno-pshychology is not an exact science. But one of its well known law says individual past experiences will trump any predictions based on race-wide estimations. Trust a Q to be completely ignorant of laws.
A regretable side-effect: some of them found themselves incapacitated for a while. Spent long hours reconstructing their shattered identity; getting out of the shell in which their minds have gone into hiding. Resilient ones had jumped at exploring the communication screen that now occupied all the walls of their quarters. Unfamiliar faces, almost identical, everywhere. As time passed, subtle differences and dissimilarities slowly began to merge. To form patterns of visual identification. But for the most part of the day, their minds had hidden inside, distorting and corrupting the visual data on purpose, utterly confused by the apparent 12 identical copies moving chaotically. Differently. Similarly? Screaming. Crying? Looking. Watching. Signalling?
Friend? Foe? Is he the one? Is she the one? Was that a dream? Is this a dream? Does he remember? Can they see me? They see me! What do they see? What do I see? I must not doubt. I doubt. Here is me. Here is ... Who is? When? Now. They must not see what I doubt. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. Who thought that? Is there some else getting this? Who are you? I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. Who am I? Questions. I have no answers. I know not what I am. I have questions. Who are they? Parallax. What is that? What is obvious? What is not obvious? What am I missing? What doesn't move? What does not fit? What am I not seeing? Who doesn't move? How do I move? Will do. Fast on defense. Slow on attack. Won't do. Can't do. Stalemate. For now. Must do. Must find. Must survive.
As the day moved to an end, the unexpected next-to-impossible stalemate was almost reached. Almost. One who was once many was left alone, a singled out voice. The collective was brought forward by a collective move. As Q's drums and trumpets were heard through the comm system, everyone saw the lightning strike Glycereine.
As the smoke cleared out, they could all see a body laying down on the floor. Flesh, bones, oh wait, mechanical? This could only mean one thing. As some of them sighed and took their eyes from the screens for a second ... a twitch ... a lone shout ... as the Borg had regained his balance. WE ARE BORG! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE! PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED! ... And then the coms went down.
|Night 2 - Lifesigns in the Dark|
|Q. Not everything begins and ends with Q.
Jal Jabin never slept. He had second doubts about his participation in this crazy endeavour, but he could not back down now. He had once been directly in line as First Maje of the Ogla. But the Voyager's interference with the Kazon Ogla domination over the Ocampa homeworld had made him lose face in front of his people. They had done him a partial favor by removing the weak First Maje a while later, in another encounter with the Ogla. Another weak Maje had been elected, while Jabin's quest for vengeance had not been fulfilled. Soon now, he will have both. Revenge tasted sweet, double-more for a Kazon. Even since his race had freed themselves from slavery and enacted their revenge on the Trabe race. This night, he would make his name proud. As the door hissed and opened, he stopped his line of thought and took his stungun. He moved around the corridors, lurked in the shadows whenever he heard distant steps in the long maze-like corridors. But the Kazon were not renowned for being stealth, but rather for being trigger-happy. When DarthMask came out of a corridor to the left, he was shot on sight. Jabin hurried towards the body and checked for a pulse. His stungun had been calibrated for Kazon, but he had no way to test it against the alien race used by Q as host-bodies. Fortunately, his victim was still alive. And an open door right down the corridor gave away its point of origin. Jabin carried DM back and studied the room. There was almost no information to be found. Except. Ha. Good one. A list of names on the side of the bed. That was a dead giveaway. Jabin retreated back and encountered no one else that night.
Donik awoke with a shudder and bumped his head into the holo-deck kit that had been charging for a day now. Another nightmare had haunted him. The prey once again becoming the predator in his dreams. A Hirogen psychoanalyst had told him a while ago that he had "coward" genes. Given the past of the species, cowardice was supposed to have become extinct a long time ago. Donik had simply shaken his head in denial and ran away. He had never been inclined for the hunt, even memories about the ritual he had undergone at age 12 had made him puke on several occasions. But fortunately, the station commander had taken a liking in Donik, having a boy his exact age. That boy had Alpha-Hirogen material, exhibiting both ruthlessness and cunning at an early age. The two boys had grown together, Donik always in the shadow, always there to remind the other how a true Hirogen must never behave. As his first son had gotten his first command, the station commander had enlisted Donik in a technician advanced training program, and he had been away ever since. Never looking back. The Hirogen technicians had a world of their own, disregarded by all Hirogen. Treated just a little better than alien slaves. Work was their life, their haven from the hunt. But only when the holodeck technology appeared, Donik found his true vocation. A painter's gift had been seeded deep within him and it had been released only after the Hirogen had been exposed to holo-technology. Donik had been enthralled by the boundless opportunities offered by that technology. And he had created wonderful worlds, mostly from scratch, with breath-taking realism. Oh, well, the Hirogen had little use for Donik's worlds, until he added prey and hunt parameters and everything else they expected from him. Once in a while, he would just create a world for his own, no hunt, no prey, no predator, not even a soul would taint that world. But now was not the time. Donik approached the portable holo-deck kit, checked the power level then browsed through the simulations. He chose Octania III, a jungle planet, filled with dangers and beautiful sunsets, Donik's specialty. As his finger hesitated on the pad, his mind revolted. Only to be again defeated by the orders he'd been given. He started the simulation, then took the alien pad he had found in this quarters, circling a name. Yuli. After he heard the familiar hiss of the machine, Donik lay down on his back sighing, then curled into a fetal position. Nothing more to do than wait for the results of the simulation. Meanwhile, deep in the jungles of Octania III, Yuli was running for his life. And he put every effort into it. As he should have. The safeties in that particular holodeck kit had been switched off at some point for debugging purposes and no one had bothered to check since.
Chakotay awoke, his mind still in a daze. He went to the sink and washed with cold water. He looked in the mirror where an unfamiliar face looked back. He missed the vague familiarity of his tattoo. Missed his identity. He felt the anger coming up and forced himself to breath. He had promised. He would never break his promises. He went back and closed the lights. Took a candle out of his bag and lit it. As he focused on his breathing, inner waves seemed to break and fall away. His mind focused as he began a low chant. "A-koo-chee-moya. I pray on this day of memories, to speak to my father - the one whom the wind called Kolopak. Father, if you can hear me among these unnamed stars, I ask you to continue to watch over me as you've always done. I ask you also to watch over someone, who has a difficult path to travel. A-koo-chee-moya. An image broke. Dark. Too dark. A wall. A mirror. Good. He arrived where he had wanted. A corridor. Light. Left? Right? Steps. Duck. More. Sweat came down his brow as his vision carried him. More. What is after? More. He collapsed to the ground, as his last drop of energy pushed him gently out of his vision.
The Fluidian paced around the small quarters, tension building up, dark mood settling in again. He had regained his strength, his will to survive against all odds. They would have to pay. All of them. One at a time. Even on their own ground, they would fall. He had vowed it. This time, he waited patiently for the door to open, focusing on re-arranging his own DNA. He twisted in agony when the transformation neared its end. Dizzy still, he remembered his task. The doors hissed and opened, giving him the way out. And out he went, slow at first, gaining speed, left, left, right. He stopped in front of a door with fresh green paint on it. As he was planning his move, the door opened as the sole inhabitant prepared to go out. Glyc's eyes opened wide at the impossible sight. He moved his arm towards his assailant, who did not sketch a move. Just a smile, if only the Fluidians would could be capable of such. The Fluidian hit him with his claws, throwing Glyc back into the air, over and throw the small decorative table. As Glyc fell, the DNA in the claws had already began their insidious work, changing him from inside out. Satisfied the Fluidian left, leaving a soon-to-be-dead Glyc in agony on the floor. As Q came to collect in the morning, he couldn't help throwing in the punch-line: "Must be something you assimilated."
But this one still does. Q.
|Day 2 - The Purple One|
Teal? Friend? Foe? Who can I trust? Who will they trust? Do they see me? Can't they see what I see? Is this the road? What does it mean? Can't focus.
Any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere.
|Night 3 interruption|
|Night 3 - Shattered Personalities|
Q was clearly experiencing a new state of Q-boredom (Hint: posts getting shorter). He felt he was getting older by the minute, watching a slow-paced re-run of "Murder on the Orbital Station". Clichees. You know the feeling. Wait, that's the 4th wall. Better not break that one. So, Q thought thouroughly, which happens rarely nowadays, then decided to add some spice. Old spice. Out here in the Delta Quadrant every old trick is new again. So ... he took them to the holodeck...
Tuvok blinked and found himself standing in a complex of caves, with a tricorder in his hand. He had no idea how he got there. He looked at the readings. *How did it look? ... well, if a Vulcan could look puzzled, and they can, then that's how he looked. Oh, it. You mean the readings. The readings looked good. Wait, what is that?* An unusually large atomic mass, over five hundred and fifty nucleons. And the readings were constant. The element appeared to be stable. Tuvok scratched his head, calculating the odds of discovering a stable transuranic element inside a natural environment while not remembering how he got there. That took a while *Vulcan's are thorough, ya'know* but then he did a mistake and had to start all over *just kidding, have you heard of a Vulcan doing a mistake before? The Universe would ... wait, on second thought, I don't wanna know what may happen to the Universe if something like that ever happened. Ignorance is bliss.* and then Tuvok reached the only logical conclusion that could be reached given the data *No, I'm not gonna tell you what that is. OK, fine. I know it says so in my job description. But you can actually reach the same conclusion, you know? Just lazy. Right.* - that he was dreaming. And so he pinched himself *no, not a Vulcan nerve pinch, just a normal pinch. Yeah, he's a Vulcan. Yeah, a Vulcan pinching himself would technically be called a Vulcan pinch. But he didn't hit a nerve, OK? Phew. You know what, scratch that* And so he
[Seven of Nine was running through the corridors when she bumped into Sparrowhawk]
*Good, but it lacks ... depth. You're not developing the characters. Who is this SH, what's his role description? What's his business here? You gotta go a level deeper... What? Okay, Okay, I'll keep reading*
SH: Has the containment been breached?
The Fluidian blinked twice. *No, he was not in Kansas anymore. Stop throwing suggestions, OK?* He was standing in a dark humid place and a distant sound reached him. He tried to analyze the sound, but his own heavy breathing prevented him from identifying it. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a large cavern with several corridors leading away in the dark. He identified the source of the sound, and started on the first corridor to his left. *What do you mean? Yes, I know, I have not explicitly stated if he moved to or away from the sound. Intrigue. Building up suspense. Watch and learn, grasshopper.* After a few turns, the corridor narrowed considerably, then after a turn, he found a wall of sorts. He smelled it. Organic. Some kind of biopolymer residue. *Yes, their smell is better than a tricorder. Can't you do something else while I'm writing this? Stop looking at what I'm writing. Seriously. What do you mean you can't? You're stuck with me? No way, I'm stuck with you. Now, shush. What was I sayin'?* He picked up the biopolymer residue and tasted it. *Yes, a little yuck. But less yuck than the visual, if you ask me.* Hirogen, fresh. The Fluidian gently made a hole in the wall and smelled the air. There was someone else there. A creature that had sought haven at the end of the tunnel. The last thing DarthMask saw was a strange movement in the air and a pair of claws too close for confort. *What? What is that frown? Can't a man die in peace without blood being spilled all over? Don't give me that look. I'm not writing any blood in it.* The Fluidian retreated all the way to the main cavern then stopped. There were other corridors. And an undentified sound. Try as he might, he still could not identify the sound. He took another corridor, seemingly at random, careful not to choose the one were the sound came. *Yes, by this time, there is no need to build suspense. It's a plateau. Oh, great, you don't know what a plateau is.* A junction and two turns later, the corridor's lighting changed subtly. The Fluidian stopped as soon as he became aware of the fact. He did not react well to lights. As he pondered the risk of leaving the cover of dark corridor, he heard steps ahead so he carefully retreated back to the last junction where he hid somewhere. He saw the shadow of a creature pass into the other poorly lit corridor, too busy to notice him. A brief glance and a faint trace in the air was all it took for him to recognize the creature's type. *Boring? What do you mean boring? I can't throw many details, to keep the suspense. No, we don't need another opinion. Absolutely not. What are you doing? Are you mad? Don't wake him up. You know how he is. Wait. Oh, well, don't say I didn't warn you.*
Chakotay was looking at the tattoo in the mirror. Yet he distinctly remembered it had not been there not so long ago. Strange. He needed counsel. "A-koo-chee-moya. Though I'm far from the bones of my ancestors, perhaps there is a spirit in these unnamed skies who can guide me. I need to find a connection. A-koo-chee-moya."
*Phew. That went well. I thought you meant waking up the unnamed one. What do you mean you did a mistake? No, not him!*
Seska awoke. Some actions have an end but no beginning; some begin but do not end. It all depends upon where the observer is standing. Be prepared to appreciate what you meet. The vision of time is broad, but when you pass through it, time becomes a narrow door. May thy knife chip and shatter.
*Oh, not that non-sense again.*
|Day 3 - Cold Shivers|
|Oh, this was not an ordinary day. A cold shower in the morning. News of known enemies being hunted down. That sure brought some shivers down some spines, to say the least. No race has an antidote to it. The cold fact that all life is mortal. That nothing is ever under one's control. Oh, the illusion of control. That sweet tasting ally. Easy to instill into other's minds. Seductive idea. Notice how easy it creeps up under your own skin. Infatuating. Infatuated. Gives purpose. Gives balance. Silently nods in the middle of the night over your shoulder. Perhaps it even winks from time to time. A signal that the goal is near, out there, just around the corner, at arm's length, in your reach ... The path is right and righteous.
|Night 4 - Alone in the Dark|
As Q dimmed the lights on the station, lifesigns on his display began to move around, in a chaotic yet distinguishable pattern.
First off, maurice was ambushed in his room by an angry Kazon. Maurice discovered first hand what an angry Ogla can do to stall his enemies. The Kazon technology-thieves are indeed formidable warriors in hand-to-hand combat. And Jal Jabin was an agressive individual from one of the most aggressive Kazon sect, next in line to challenge the First Maje. That's too much aggressiveness in one sentence.
At the same time, the scared Hirogen technician unleashed one of his most chaotic holodeck simulations on KlueMaster. Much to his despair, Klue found that one cannot logic his way out of a chaotic Maze that keeps changing, twisting and adapting. And Donik's maze did all that and more. It was one of Donik's forgotten masterpieces, easily discarded by his fellow Hirogen.
Chakotay had noted a strange marking on one of the doors the other day so he was on his way to investigate. He found the strange symbol and struggled for a while to remember what his father had tried to teach him. It was a CHAH-mooz-ee, no doubt about it. An ancient healing marking of the Ancient Rubber Tree People. But how did that end up here in the Delta Quadrant?
Hours of hard engineering work, some genetic touches and even makeup helped Seska go unnoticed that night. Who casts a second glance at an Automatted Personnel Unit? A robot? Half-sentient, half-mad, mind you. Well, some should have, but they did not.
|Day 4 - Deathwish|
[Q appears right behind curr3nt as the day ends]
|Night 5 - Deadlock|
[Nox bumps into Tuvok on a corridor]
[Seven of Nine bumps into Marq on another corridor]
The Fluidian had reached an almost Zen state. A killing Zen that is. Most appropriate for a Fluidian far away from his confort zone. However none could have anticipated this - insufficient information about their species. And of course, Fluidians don't brag about it. He found his next target ripe for the taking. This time, blood was involved. A lot of blood. Mostly the victim's, but dark helped curr3nt to strike back as well. Limping away from the scene of his brutal act, the Fluidian had time to think and recover. And he decided to check one more thing before he went to bed.
|Day 5 - Sticks and Stones ...|
In a controversial, yet accurate (from one point of the space-time continuum) end of the long day, a tie was reached.
|Night 6 - Cathexis|
Jal Jabin had no intention of getting his hands dirty for the benefit of others. He could only hope that madman Culluh was still around with his ridiculous alliance proposition. Strangely, that sounded less ridiculous now, after being trapped on an orbital station with all those crazy species. As he pondered the implications of the recent events, he submitted his decision on the pad that the Q had left him with. No need to get his hands dirty tonight, the Q will do his bidding and trap sparrowhawk.
The fluidian was still on his killing spree. The lack of telephatic contact combined with accute loneliness had almost driven him mad. He had missed a cycle of mating. Interesting trivia: Fluidians have 5 different genders and are telepathic. Imagine mating. End trivia. Now we can understand why the poor Fluidian wanted to get back to fluidic space. He ran through the station, bent on killing anyone in his path. But a nine feet tall triped creature is somewhat clumsy in close spaces, so he only managed to add a couple of bruises to his collection. After he hit his head on a bulkhead, he sighed and sat down to ponder. There was no one on the corridors to hunt, very well, time to find a workaround. He ran to the nearest quarters, and broke in only to find it empty. Next one, empty. Next one, same. Frustrated, he grabbed a heavy piece of furniture and smashed it against a window, leaving no mark. As his body pumped too much adrenaline, the Fluidian started to rip at the walls. A brief explosion ensued soon after he hit a plasma relay and the whole room depresurized. Dead? Far from it, the Fluidian merely floated in space, content with having nothing to breathe. His initial inertial vector had pushed him away from the orbital ring, but he soon bumped into an externally-docked ship. He grabbed on an antenna array and slowly crawled his way from the docked ship to the orbital ring station. As he looked for a way back into the station, still clinging on to the docking extension of the ship, he saw movement behind him, next to the ships starboard. He retraced his steps and found his way to the ship's cargo bay. Short-circuiting the door release handles was an easy feat. Of course, as the force-field collapsed, the cargo bay was depresurized, throwing outside a screaming Maurice ... The Fluidian looked after the soon-to-be-dead former-inhabitant of the ship, but in space, no one hears you scream, so the Fluidian just shrugged and crawled in the ship. Usually Fluidians do not clean up after themselves, graveyards of Borg Cubes floating around the Delta Quadrant bear witness to this. But in this case, the ship had been cleaned with a single move. The Bridge of the ship was unfamiliar, but Fluidians are quick-learners. The ship possesed limited maneuvrability but had a warp core that could be used to create an artificial quantum singularity. One step closer to insanity after this discovery, the Fluidian went on a rampage run to find Engineering. There is was, the key to getting home. Telepathically, he called his bioship up from hibernation and set in a course to rendezvous. He cared not about that being that had trapped him in the station, he had a clear shot of getting home. He set the ship on a collision course with the nearest star and scheduled a warp core breach at a precise moment in the future. He used the onboard transporters to get him back to his bioship who was already in range. Relieved to be in a familiar environment again, the Fludian waited for the quantum singularity to form and directed his ship in. The shockwave observed on the orbital station did not carry the final chapter of the Fluidian's story, but a Q always detects the feeling of winning a galaxy away. And the fluidian had definitely won his way out.
|Day 6 - Scorpion|
|Shadow #1: "There's a story I heard as a child, a parable, and never forgot it. A scorpion was walking along the bank of a river, wondering how to get to the other side. Suddenly he saw a fox. He asked the fox to take him on his back across the river. The fox said no, if I do that you'll sting me, and I'll drown. The scorpion assured him, if I did that, we'd both drown. So the fox thought about it and finally agreed. So the scorpion climbed up on his back, and the fox began to swim. But halfway across the river, the scorpion stung him. As the poison filled his veins, the fox turned to the scorpion and said why did you do that? Now you'll drown too. I couldn't help it, said the scorpion. It's my nature. "|
Shadow #2: "I understand the risk and I'm not proposing that we try to change the nature of the beast, but this is a unique situation. I think we can take advantage of it. We just need the courage to see this through to the end. "
|Night 7 - Scientific Method|
Tuvok / Yuli was alone in his quarters. He had finished meditating, organized his thoughts and was just talking out loud for no apparent reason: "Vulcans believe that a person's katra - what some might call a soul - continues to exist after the body dies. When I was younger, I accepted it without question. In recent years, I have experienced doubts. I do believe there is more within each of us than science has yet explained.", Tuvok paused looking at a puzzled image of Q on the monitor. "... But there is nothing wrong in choosing to live.", as he asked Q to lock up his quarters for the night.
Jal Culluh was anxious to test his luck tonight. At last, it seemed that he was free to pursue his target with no complications. He regarded his most recent aquisition, a tetryon rifle salvaged from an abandoned Hirogen outpost after it had been converted by an unknown species. Hirogen tetryon rifles use tetryon particles found in subspace, that become highly energetic and unstable when they are extruded into normal space. Also, tetryons possess a random momentum, and thus cannot be tracked by sensors. And the sturdy all-terrain Hirogen design had been augmented by an alien targetting system of unknown design, that used some sort of sub-space scanning to identify targets. Almost effortlessly, that modified tetryon rifle could be used to aim through walls, even bulkheads, till it reached its target. It had costed him a small fortune in both water and ore, could have bought a small Armada of mercenaries with those resources. But it was actually priceless - his very own, perhaps unique, tetryon sniper rifle. As he aimed through it, he saw the interior of the orbital ring, as clear as daylight. He found his mark, a gentle touch and Marquessa became as silent as the night.
The Borg Queen was so sure of herself, that she went alone that night, on a stroll around the station, intent on killing the first target that came too close. They had probably narrowed her down anyway, and lacking the link with the Collective, she had to do things by herself, sonner or later. There was an unfamiliar thrill in her chest, knowing that a kill at her could come from any corner anytime. Strange feeling indeed. She had received reports of drones dead in the last war with Fluidians, as high as millions per hour. No report had ever shaken her or disuaded her from the assimilation goals she had set. And she had no remorse about trying to assimilate the beings discovered in the fluidic space. The Fluidians seemed as close to biological perfection as a Borg could hope to be and they had to be assimilated for the Borg to add their distinctiveness to their own. Failing their initial attempt to assimilate species 8472 in the Fluidic space, the Borg had merely decided to delay the assimilation for a while, convinced it was still possible. As the Fludians invaded, using quantum singularities to get directly inside the solar systems controlled by Borg, bypassing any and all Borg defense systems, ... well, there was no point of reference. Losing was unknown to Borg and it took their Queen a very long time to acknowledge despair. And now, here, gambling it all on a one-shot attempt to correct the history and redeem the whole Borg collective ... this felt good. This actually felt like something she had searched for all her life. Wiping out is actually easier than assimilation, she thought to herself as she sneaked upon Vine and twisted her neck. The only real downside is that information and recruits is lost that way. But, as the Queen let Vineetrika's body fall slowly on the floor, it felt good.
|Day 7 - Endgame|
[Each of the remaining three prisoners are in their quarters watching a wall-tall display of the other rooms.]
[As the three stood there, regarding the others, time slowed down to a halt]
End of Game Roster
- sparrowhawk - Jal Culluh - Survived
- Glycereine - Borg Collective - Saved from lynch D1, Killed N2 by Species 8472
- maurice - Capt. Janeway - Killed N6 by Species 8472
- Vineetrika - Maje Jal Jabin - Killed N7 by Borg Queen
- Brandonb - Seven of Nine - Saved from lynch D6, Survived
- darth nox - Chakotay - Lynched D5
- DarthMask - Karr - Saved from lynch D2, Killed N3 by Species 8472
- Yuli - Tuvok - Saved from lynch D6, Survived
- KlueMaster - Idrin - Saved from lynch D3, Lynched D6
- curr3nt - Seska - - Saved from lynch D4, Killed N5 by Species 8472
- Marquessa - Borg Queen - Killed N7 by Jal Culluh
- Auramyna - Species 8472 - Won and left the game after N6
- Shadow7 - Donik - Lynched D5
|List of actions|
N1 - Save from lynch votes: maurice, sparrowhawk and Glycereine are safe from lynch D1.
Out of 4 vote manipulators, only 1 submitted an action:
That tipped the balance 6 votes for Glyc, 5 for Shadow7.
curr3nt, BrandonB, Yuli and DarthMask are safe from lynch on D2.
Night 3 actions:
Maurice, SH, KlueMaster, Marquessa are safe from lynch on D3.
Night 4 actions:
Interesting turns: Nox survives despite having 2 correct kills on his back, Shadow's trap and curr3nt's Wifom stopped KM and Aura from eliminating him.
Night 5 actions:
maurice, Vineetrika, KlueMaster, Marquessa, are safe from lynch on D5.
Night 6 actions:
Yuli, Sparrohawk, Brandonb, are safe from lynch on D6.
Night 7 actions:
Vine and Marq should have been safe from lynch, but they were dead before D7 began.
This was a rather bland ending, mostly because of my no-abstain game mechanics which prevented the flash-remove ending seen in Halloween II or Bag of Tricks.
Bb figured correctly that SH was vulnerable. Bb was also vulnerable (as he was publicy saved a day before), but he managed to convince Yuli not to lynch/betray him, by allowing the RID thread (SH) to survive in D7.