WW LXXVII: The Metamorphs of Wolf-562-e
 

Prologue

“Captain,” said the person in the uniform of the Terran Galactic Fleet, carefully locking the door, “is this cabin secure?”

“As secure as I can make it.” Captain McNerwen leaned back in her chair, eyeing the newcomer with no friendly gaze. “Why?”

“Last Night,” said the other, “I had a dream.”

Strangely, this seemingly inane statement failed to spark Captain McNerwen’s legendary temper. She, and she alone knew that the person before her was one of three Terran Intelligence agents assigned to the crew of the TGS Lothlórien. More than that, this particular agent was a telepath, genetically engineered to be able to tune in on mental frequencies. It was a talent to which the captain had to give a grudging respect, however irritating she found its owner.

“What about?”

“Wolf-562-e. I dreamt three of our crew were murdered while on leave there, and– and replaced with Metamorphs.”

They stared at each other for fully half a minute.

Finally the captain broke the silence. “So. The Radiant Empire offered them a better deal. And they took it.” She sighed bitterly. “My father always said the only Metamorph you could trust was a dead one. We should have known they were up to something.” The captain shook her head. After five years of devastating interstellar war, it had had been all too tempting to believe in this powerful new ally. “Well, then– which three?”

“I don’t know, Captain. It could be anyone. I can see this only by sharing the dreams of the Metamorphs themselves, and their minds are so alien. All I’m sure of is that it wasn’t you or the other two agents. Also, I have a feeling the Metamorphs aren't our only problem– I'm getting a sense of treachery from somewhere– but I'm not sure. Look, Captain, I need more time–”

The captain reached for the mouthpiece of the subspace communication system, able to send a message instantly across light years. “We don’t have time, you fool!” she snapped. “Earth must be warned!”

But the communicator was dead.

It is now Night One. Roles will be sent out shortly.

You may not post on this thread.
EDIT: All roles have now been sent out. If you didn't get one, you're an ordo. Stop posting me about this, people! :rolleyes:

Sensor Technician Isabellkya had been unable to get the subspace communication system working. "Ma'am, it looks to me as if it's been deliberately tempered with– and by a real expert, at that."

"Well, you're an expert, aren't you, Technician?" Ensign Blind Guardian asked her. "Sure you didn't do it yourself?"

This was greeted with a few chuckles from surrounding members of the crew.

Surely, the captain reflected, Metamorphs would have taken it all a bit more seriously? But then, perhaps not. Metamorph humour, if there was such a thing, was as veiled in mystery as the rest of their culture.

"Ensign Guardian," she said coldly, "you will in future refrain from making a Rigellian tree-ape of yourself in front of the enlisted men. Technician Isabellkya, I want the subspace system functional by 0300 hours Galactic Time tomorrow, and in that time you will concentrate on your work and make no further wild statements about sabotage. The rest of you, go about your duties. Watching Technician Isabellkya perform routine maintenence is not a form of entertainment."

The captain turned on her heel and stalked out of the room. It had, she realised, probably been useless to expect the crew to believe nothing was seriously wrong. There was nothing routine about this– everyone knew subspace systems did not just break down without warning.

What gave her an even greater sense of futility was that she had made no progress whatever in finding the enemy. All of the crew were acting like their normal selves– just as the intelligence agent had predicted. According to the agent, Metamorphs had a specialised form of telepathy that let them absorb memories from those they killed, allowing them to pass undectected except by someone who had known the victim extremely well. And on this ship, the captain thought bitterly, that meant no-one at all, when so many of the Lothlórien's current crew were replacements for those killed in the disastrous Battle of Fomalhaut.

"There must be something," she muttered aloud. "There must be..."

Captain McNerwen paused on the threshhold of the medical laboratory. Supposedly, what she was about to try was even more useless than observing the crew's behaviour. All sources she had read agreed that finding the subtle biological differences between a disguised Metamorph and the individual it copied took detailed analysis, far beyond the capabilties of a combat spacecraft lab.

However, Doctor Morsul had spent most of his career in space, treating the many exotic ailments that were a hazard of interstellar travel. In fact his interest in alien diseases was positively ghoulish. It was entirely possible, the captain thought, that the doctor might know a trick or two that the academic experts had missed. It was worth a try at any rate.

The trouble was that she would have to take Doctor Morsul into her confidence and for all she knew, the medical officer was himself a Metamorph. Well, she had prepared for that. She had recorded a holographic message, to be activated on the event of her death, informing the crew of the situation, just in case the Metamorphs were able to tamper with her log.

She took a step forward, but the door remained shut. Perhaps Doctor Morsul was treating someone for some embarrassing complaint. Or else he might have been giving young Rikae another checkup. The "Cabin Boy", as Commander Inziladun had nicknamed him, had been found hiding in the cargo hold a few Days out of Beta Pictoris Station, and the doctor was very concerned about the infections he might have picked up in his former life as a orphan living on the streets of the spaceport.

The captain keyed in her override code and entered the laboratory– where she gasped at the sight that met her eyes.

The medical officer was sprawled amidst the charred wreckage of his equipment. It took no more than a glance at the huge blackened hole through his upper torso to tell her that Doctor Morsul was well beyond the reach of his own medicine.

The wound was still smoking. Whoever had done this could not be far away.

A shadow fell across her. Captain McNerwen whirled around, gasping a second time as she recognised the figure who has just stepped out of an inner chamber, carrying a large flame-pistol.

"You!"

"Me," the intruder agreed. "I see you had the same idea as me– they say it's well-nigh impossible to detect a Metamorph, but I didn't want to take any chances. I regretted having to kill the doctor, by the way, nearly as much as I'm going to regret killing you."

"Don't fool yourself, alien scum," said the Captain. "We'll catch all three of you before too many Days are out."

"Oh," said the other, "but I'm not a Metamorph, ma'am, just a... sympathiser, let us say. I've been an agent of the Empire for nearly two years now."

"You betrayed your own species? How could you?"

The Traitor shrugged. "It's clear they're going to win this war in the end, and they pay me handsomely, too. Besides, they're really so much more advanced than we are in many ways; I think I'd be supporting them anyway. –And now," the Traitor raised the flame-pistol, "I'm afraid this conversation must come to an end. Goodbye, captain."

The captain reached for her own weapon, but the Traitor was quicker. The last thing Captain McNerwen knew in this life was a searing agony that quickly gave way to the merciful numbness of oblivion.

The Crew

Living
Commander Inziladun –First Officer.
Lieutenant Paranoia –Second Officer.
Lieutenant Sally –Navigator.
Ensign Pitchwife –Communications Officer/Interpreter.
Ensign Blind Guardian –Tactical Officer.
Master Chief Petty Officer Loslote –Chief Engineer.
Chief Petty Officer Keeper of Dol Guldur –Quartermaster.
Isabellkya –Sensor Technician, First Class.
Wilwa –Android Technician, Second Class.
Shasta –Engineering Technician.
Eomer –Security Officer.
wintywinty –Weapons Maintenance Technician.
Rikae –"Cabin Boy" (a thirteen-year-old stowaway).

Dead
Doctor Morsul –Medical Officer and Captain McNerwen. –shot by Traitor on Night One.


Day One has begun. You may now post.

WAKE UP EVERYONE!! WAKE UP!! *rings bell scaring everyone into waking* get your lazy butts out of bed! *walks off angry, for I have not eaten breakfast yet. I'm real grumpy before breakfast*

I've been looking at the engine, and I've noticed several problems. The R/A/M is at 73 while the Jiroscopic Beoneedle is pointed due east and the HTV channel is completely fuzzed out but in a pattern that is eerily similar to the YCT pattern of the NBC fuzz during the disaster of 2089. The Nissota has hit googleplex levels, and the Honeral Motiff has dropped to only 38% of optimum value. No levels of cadmium have been detected in the cadmium storage unit, which means that the Cadmistic Ignitor has lost all fuel and no longer produces output of any sort, so that the Verostile Xerox has lost power. Casualties among the treadmill mice have soared, with only 17% surviving, and all of those grey mice as opposed to the higher producing white mice. The wires connecting the Yesox Imput and the Hasalblad Generator have frayed, causing random jolts of electricity to the Knickerbocker Machine that fry any undergarments currently inside. This causes all of the crew to be forced to wear smelly undergarments. Hasardous toxic waste from the oceanic waste dump has leaked into the Beatific NFC, so that the NFC can no longer produce the RKI needed to power the Y2K. If there's no Y2K, then the programing for the ZIDRAM will crash, causing power failures among the JZs.

Moreover, the engine's broke.

Oh God. Nevermind, everyone go back to sleep. You're going to need it after reading that! So, Mastermind, what do we do?? I wonder if we have power to flush the toilets!?

Well, that depends upon several factors. In order to flush toilets, the VTW has to be at 80% or higher. Unfortunately, the QTP cut out due to unforseen failure of the Biseral Voltage, which lowered the VTW to a mere 72%. Unless the TP scores can be raised to at least 650 on ALL facets, the toilets will be unflushable. That is, they'll flush, but they won't actually drain. Just, you know, flood.

By the way, don't go in the downstairs bathroom...

I have 4 Energizer Rechargeable batteries! And I hid some car batteries downstairs a few years back.


Oh brother...

Alas, Energizer Rechargable Batteries would throw off the delicate STV balance of the HYZs. Car batteries might work if not for the offsetting Gemitode Resistance Lobe. You offer is noble, but I'm afraid all the batteries would do is override the system and cause the NPQs to malfuntion. :(

EDIT: I swear I didn't notice that one of the abbreviations was STD. :eek:

Oh well, I tried. Well I'm going to go poop (yeah in that downstairs toilet) then go to bed.


What's wrong with that?

...if you don't know, I really don't want to explain it.

*Googles* ohhhh, nevermind.


Edit: I knew that, just didn't realize it. *yawns*

Go to sleep, silly! :p *channels Sally the Sleep Police Chief* ;)

I've already got cabin fever with you lot.

My vote will likely be for Blind Guardian. He/she is very suspicious.

This.

Sorry I was....erm, I was enforcing the laws to myself. I went to sleep before DL, in fact. :eek: But I'm up now and will be around (in some capacity) for the next hour or so.


So....if we're going to get out of this we need to charter a course toward some sort of authority (police, Shadow Proclamation, the Alliance, etc.). Assuming we can get moving, of course. But still, I want to be prepared in the instance that we can go somewhere. We don't need to be wasting time once we get ourselves mobile, not with these metamorphs skulking about. So I'll be in my bunk, chartering a course into the deep realms. (Don't even think about it.) I only have one question.

Which way's left?

Announcement
 

I am making an unplanned change to the rules. I've already put this on the Admin thread, but I'm posting it here as well, just to make sure everyone sees it:

*goes back to being dead*

Reporting for duty.

Fascinating analysis so far, Chief Lottie, if a little verbose. A Funadalkn of Alpha Goombae VI probably would have summed up our situation with the single word Mourshput!.

But in case you haven't noticed it, being engrossed in testing the machinery, not only is the engine broke, but the Captain and Bones - er, Doctor Morsul I mean - have been brutally murdered, and according to that holographic message the Captain recorded before her death (I suppose you've all seen that?), we've been infiltrated by three Metamorph saboteurs posing as crewmembers. Any comments on that?

Our Security Officer at least seems to be trying to pinpoint the imposters - good. But would you please care to explain, Eomer, what in particular you find suspicious in Ensign Guardian's behaviour?

EDIT: the usual pedantic formatting.

Hmm. The priority here must remain getting the comm systems up. Communication with Terran Command is paramount. They must be advised of our situation.
The engines must be repaired also, Chief Engineer Lottie. Odd how that problem suddenly occurred out of nowhere. Any explanations for the cause of the engine issues?

That's a rather pointed accusation, Security Officer Eomer. I'd have wondered if you were merely making a joke, but I saw no trace of a smile when you uttered those words.

Unfortunate. That's going to make it very difficult for the Intel agents to save themselves under the threat of Metamorph plots to engineer suspicion against them.

x/d with Ensign Pitch

I think it's perfectly obvious Pitchwife. I don't even blame the cabin fever. String him/her* up!

*a few people I'm not familiar with in this game so I'll be using 'him/her' until corrected. :)

Hey everyone! I'd like to introduce you to my newest project! *points to odd looking robot standing beside her* His name is B.I.L.L.Y (Biomechanical Intelligent Lifeform Limited to Yelling). I wanted him to be a singing robot, but B.I.L.L.S. is a dumb name. :D

I'll be popping on randomly for the next few hours. Then I have to work. The DL is midnight for me so I'll have to vote a bit early, I'll basically come on for a couple minutes when I get home from work, right before I go to sleep. So toDay won't be the best day for me regarding participation.

I think it's interesting about the gifteds not being able to reveal. For the Hunter it's no big deal, I don't really think they should ever reveal themselves anyway. Kind of goes the same way for the Ranger in most cases. This will also save us from having to deal with false reveals, which is fantastic.

x'ed with Inzil and Eomer

Yes sir, Tech Izzy's already working on it. I'll check our supply of emergency beacons; hope those haven't been tampered with as well. Too bad we don't carry any hyperspace courier drones - too expensive for a ship of our class, I suppose.

Indeed. Also, it could have been quite an advantage for us if the Assassin could have revealed at a later time and tell us who has been hunted and survived, effectively giving us a few known innocents. Too bad, but it can't be helped.

Eomer - maybe it's obvious and I'm too daft to see it, or maybe it isn't, or maybe you haven't got anything and are just 'stirring the pot', or maybe... Which is it?

EDIT: fixed format again.

This. Nerwen's just balanced the game which seems fair to me. Wilwa's point is also good; though false reveals may be entertaining, it's fine that we won't have to worry about them.

Further Word of Mod
 

Yes– I started to worry that there were just too many ways for the Metamorphs to be caught purely by elimination, which hardly seems fair when the gifteds are already so powerful.

What I said only applies to the Intelligence agents. The two secret roles are free to reveal if they choose.

*returns to death*

Oh, ok, good to know. We'll have to be careful about anyone who comes out with made up roles then. As well, a Metamorph could come out as the Seer, but since they have to give up a wolf they'd either need to give up one of their own or blame an innocent (which would give them away within a Day). So, I like this rule a lot, it balances it out the game, but also will save us from all the confussion that false reveals can cause.

*is amused*:D

OK, point taken, and also about the balance thing. But as interesting as a discussion of Fleet Regulations (aka rules & game mechanics) can be, shouldn't we get down to finding the Morphs? I'd still like Eomer to explain his 'obvious' suspicion, if indeed that was supposed to be serious.

By the way, according to the personnel files, our two newer crewmembers are Ms Guardian and Mr Noia, I think. (And I'm Mr Pitchwife, for those I haven't met before; but Pitch will do.)

Aw, man. False reveals are my favorite. Can't I just have one tiny little false reveal? Puhleez, Ms. Dead Captain? *whines* I don't want to ruin my record of revealing as a gifted in every single game I play.

:confused:

Well, actually, I do have one of the secret roles. I'm the suicide bomber. If anyone votes for me, I explode and take the whole ship with me. Ha!

Hm, alrighty then. Better start tracking down the bad guys. I suspect Sally, because she has the potential to talk too much, and Eomer, because he talks too little. I suspect Wilwa for saying the hunter should never reveal, because I firmly believe xe is quite often more powerful when xe does.
I strongly suspect whoever jumps on me for suspecting the above people for flimsy reasons.
I even more strongly suspect whoever jumps on said person for suspecting me for such a flimsy reason.

That's all for now.

Edit: X'd with Pitch.

Interesting. What happens if you get Night-killed? Do you implode?:D

In endgames, yes. But otherwise it keeps xem from doing their proper job, because the wolves will know not to touch them (unless feeling suicidal).

Well, this being a rather quiet ship at the moment, there aren't such a lot of non-flimsy reasons yet. Talk, people, talk!

Ha ha.

But, but that's what makes Day 1s oh so much fun. ;)

Uh, I have to go to work now. I'm not going to be back for like 9 hours. Sorry. :( But I will definitely be voting!

A rather large man strolls onto the bridge, rage barely contained on his face. Taking in the friendly banter his right eye twitches for a full hour before he finally begins to speak.

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

*coughs* Eomer, weren't you in charge of making sure that a situation like this did *not* occur? I further find baseless attacks on Ms. Guardian, as loopy as she is, unwarranted. Please refrain in the future from attacking others without some flimsy reasoning at the least will be met with harshly in the future. And if Ms. Guardian is indeed a metamorph, I get the feeling we'll know before too much longer.



































Also, Rikae must be metamorph scum, hiding under a convenient guise of being a stowaway. *eyetwitch*

You're obviously lying. The security guards, before boarding, asked each one of us "Are you a terrorist?" so they've clearly got those bases covered.

Although I can't seem to locate my luggage...

I shall do no such thing. My cabin fever ensures that I will not sit by while people idly speak of subjects other than the lynching of people.

String. Her. Up.

Oh my goodness! You're right! *jumps and hits her head on a pipe* Erm, we don't have running water anymore. *tries to patch pipe while being drenched by water*

Magic, of course.


Now, there's a clue here that none of you have noticed yet. Who stands most to gain with Captain McNerwen dead? Her second-in-command, Zil. :eek:

In other, non made-up news, I'm not feeling oh-so-very thrilled with Vanilwuffin. Her posts all seem forced. Particularly this:

And this:

Just a gut feeling, really, but Vanilwuffin is the only suspicion I've got so far.

Yes. I am Ms Guardian. Not marryed so can't say Mrs :D

I don't think it is "perfectly obvious" to anyone but you. :rolleyes:

No, we aren't equipped with the drones. Only the capital ships have them.

I agree with this, but at any rate the question of the agents' revealing, Telepath excepted, is an academic one at this point.

Good to hear from our Second Officer. Why though, do you say we shall know of Tactical Officer Guardian's true nature soon? The only one accusing her is Security Officer Eomer, and for whatever reason, he doesn't seem too inclined to further explain himself.

It would have been a clever way of getting a Metamorph on board, but it seems a tad too obvious, with no other evidence to go on.

Perhaps the technician, Shasta will repair it when he arrives. And maybe not break anything else in the process.

I have, of course, assumed command of the ship (per Terran Galactic Fleet Command Regulation # 421.3) upon the death of Captain McNerwen. And no one should be above suspicion here, including me. But it would seem a rather clumsy plan that had me killing the captain and succeeding her in command.

And you suspect our Android Tech Wilwa, do you? For seeming forced? Hmm.

Wait, the seer/telepath can reveal when ever? Wha? I thought Nerwen said no one could, regardless. Until, of course, they are threatened with death by Wolfie...

Eomer's suspicion does seem a bit wacky, but I don't think a wolf would draw attention to themselves like that. In my mind, a wolf would have at least said he was joking when he fell under suspicion for it.

I don't suspect Zil, either. He seems innocent to me. This is, of course, gut feeling - there's little to go on Day 1.

EDIT: xed with BeiGe.

The seer can only reveal if they've dreamed of a wolf.

Back on the bridge after a visit to the galley. At least the foodvends are still working (as of now, that is, so don't let Chief Lottie near 'em!;))

Speaking of which,
Come on! As if we didn't know that he liked being her Number One so much that he's already turned down three offers by Terran Command to give him a ship of his own...;)

That's the problem with discussing game mechanics: it can be useful, giving people something to talk about on Day 1, and sometimes is indeed necessary, but it's also something to hide behind if you're trying to look helpful but are reluctant to actually suspect somebody.
So much in general. As for wilwa, don't know... Though it seems to me that a Morph has more reason to be happy about the Agents' deep conditioning than anybody else. I'd like to see what she's got to say when she's back, if I manage to stay awake that long.

I see your point, and his unexplained persistence in the matter is an enigma to me. Anyway, much as I'd appreciate something more substantial than one-liners from him, I don't want to focus on him all Day. Besides, some of our other comrades have yet to speak up.

Speaking of speaking up, Ms Guardian, what do you have to say to Eomer's accusation?