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The XTERN1TY Files
xtern1ty
Member Posts: 796 Arc User
It's 0-nine-hundred hours and I hear the music flowing through the streets as I enter Star City, the XTERN1TY fleet starbase famed for its large meetings and gleaming wide halls bustling with the hardest working, fun loving residents in the galaxy. I follow the sound up the avenue to the Mall, regularly filled with bargain shoppers and tourists. I enter the mall and take off my trenchcoat. Place is strangely empty. I walk past delicious smells of fresh-baked pizza filling the air from Ristorante DiGregorio and the see the disco ball revolving above Paris Records Dance Studio. Ahead, two signs flash in neon, rising above gilded arches: Anni's Nightclub & Lounge and Vorik Department Store. I glance longingly at the club, but shake my head. Not yet baby. I take the door to the right, down the ramp.
The music stops. Such eerie quiet grips the walls, even the silence makes no noise. I head to the Recreation department and a few isles in, find what I'm looking for. A brand new Fleet Pleasure Assault Blaster [Satisfaction]3x. The label reads: Guaranteed to give 360 Degrees pleasurable satisfaction for however long you want it, or they'll die tryin'. Yeah, I'm thinking; just the gift she needs.
Going to the automatic checkout I slide out my Galactic Express card. Can't leave home without it since they included it in the holoemitter attached to my wrist, along with the rest of my virtual wallet. 1,000 fleet credits subtract before my eyes. I look to see the store tally add up, instead all stays the same. I start thinking. I thought the Fleet was getting these credits of mine, but no. Then it hits me. Fleet credits are being spent by players in every quadrant of the galaxy, but no trace has been seen of them since. Heading to the transporter, I whip out my autotransmitter: File 9032, Case of the Disappearing Cre ehh... before I can finish my report, a pain in my head knocks me to the floor. All goes black.
I wake up to the smell of rotgut and cheap cigars. The room is dimly lit by a window shining from somewhere in the darkness. I'm on a weathered sofa covered in tribble hair. On both ends stand 2 honchos in pant-suits, wielding Tommy-Phasers; one a grim looking fellah and the other a broad with hair tied back into a ponytail. My head throbs as I lift myself off the sofa, and face the desk in front, behind which sits a guy in a tie pulling on a stogie. The plaque on the desk reads: Boss Brandoni, Manager. He lets out a long puff.
"James, James, the pain in the pelvis private eye, always sticking your nose in none of your business." The accent is earthy, Chicago, maybe Boston.
"Kinda long like that. Sorry if it gets in the way."
"I hear this time your investigating Company affairs." I rest my head in my hands. Should have known not to file my report inside the building. The Company has airspace vibration monitors running 24/7. "I wasn't, until you told me." I lift my head and get up slowly. The guards shuffle uneasily. I watch them from the corner of my eye.
"See Brandoni, when my nose smells something stinky, it starts itchin' like crazy and I can't help myself but go berserk..." At that moment I notice the guard on the left turn his head slightly to his companion. In the flash of a nanosecond I'm on him, my knee in his belly. I grab his gun as he crumples to the floor. The other guard turns to fire but I'm quicker and level the Tommy-Phaser square at her "Drop it!" The guard drops the wep and unclasping her suit, raises her hands. "Who are you? I never seen a man move that fast before!" "Name's Burn, James Burn." Without lowering the gun I walk over, straightening my tie. I reach up and loosen the clasp behind her head, letting her shimmering hair fall over her shoulders as I wrap my arm around her waist. "Burn me up, baby." She looks into my eyes, panting. Without a word, she reaches for me, kissing me like there's no tomorrow.
The door behind him slides open and and lights flood the room as a sensual female voice booms over the overhead speaker. "Holodeck Scenario 21 complete."
I lower the gun as the Chief walks in the door followed by a retinue of data crunchers. The nameplate on his chest reads: Danny Boy. He puts his hand over my shoulder. "Special agent Xean, you missed a part." "I'm getting old for this," I sigh, nodding my head. "Not really," I turn to the Manager, scanning the data on his pad. "Your reflex timer came in an at .007 nanoseconds less than last time." "Well, that's why I get paid for ain't it, to get it right to the last detail? What will you have me doing next, Dirty Hairy?" The chief grins. "Actually, I got just the assignment for you. Disappearing Credits, case is all yours." "Of all the shoot jobs...," I whisper under my breath.
"Actually," raising my voice, I announce matter-of-factly, "I thing I solved the case for you." "Really?" Chief looked surprised.
"Yeah see, Fleet marks are being spent by people all over the galaxy. They buy stuff in countless fleets with it, but where does it go? It makes no sense they just disappear into thin air, but you know what? It actually does. Now I know what you're thinking, Credits need to be spent for items and if you get an item, your credits are converted for it. But you gotta ask yourself one question."
"Why don't I feel lucky?" The Chief wiped his brow with his palm which flickered in the light.
"No, The question you should be asking is instead of letting fleet credits just disappear don't you think it would enhance the game experience by putting spent credits to use for fleet projects or into a fleet credit bank that totals the amount of fleet credits spent on a fleet or accumulates there for opening up special fleet rooms, abilities, or access. Now, don't you feel lucky you have me around to solve the case, punk?"
They hadn't noticed I still held the Tommy-Phaser in my left hand. In seconds the room is clear, a dozen Undine bodies lying dead on the floor. All but one. The manager at the desk was gone. On the desk lay a folio pad, on which a name was scribbled: Who is John Gaunt?
The fizz of an airlock makes me raise my head. The lights dimmed and the Holodeck door slid open. A familiar figure entered. "Hey Anni, pretty long training session huh." She looked at me quizzically. "How did you know it wasn't me?"
"You never kissed me like that."
"I never kissed you at all." Anni rounds the desk, her body snug in a skin-tight holo-suit. The thought strikes me, she could be naked under under the holoemitter. "Well there's always a first time." I move closer. "Where's your burn, baby."
She looks at me, fire in her eyes. "You don't want to know, just pass me the Preparation-H."
This is special agent Xean, deep in the heart of Covert Operations. Maybe I'll make it out alive and maybe I won't. But rest assured either way, they're screwed.
Copyright Xean
The music stops. Such eerie quiet grips the walls, even the silence makes no noise. I head to the Recreation department and a few isles in, find what I'm looking for. A brand new Fleet Pleasure Assault Blaster [Satisfaction]3x. The label reads: Guaranteed to give 360 Degrees pleasurable satisfaction for however long you want it, or they'll die tryin'. Yeah, I'm thinking; just the gift she needs.
Going to the automatic checkout I slide out my Galactic Express card. Can't leave home without it since they included it in the holoemitter attached to my wrist, along with the rest of my virtual wallet. 1,000 fleet credits subtract before my eyes. I look to see the store tally add up, instead all stays the same. I start thinking. I thought the Fleet was getting these credits of mine, but no. Then it hits me. Fleet credits are being spent by players in every quadrant of the galaxy, but no trace has been seen of them since. Heading to the transporter, I whip out my autotransmitter: File 9032, Case of the Disappearing Cre ehh... before I can finish my report, a pain in my head knocks me to the floor. All goes black.
I wake up to the smell of rotgut and cheap cigars. The room is dimly lit by a window shining from somewhere in the darkness. I'm on a weathered sofa covered in tribble hair. On both ends stand 2 honchos in pant-suits, wielding Tommy-Phasers; one a grim looking fellah and the other a broad with hair tied back into a ponytail. My head throbs as I lift myself off the sofa, and face the desk in front, behind which sits a guy in a tie pulling on a stogie. The plaque on the desk reads: Boss Brandoni, Manager. He lets out a long puff.
"James, James, the pain in the pelvis private eye, always sticking your nose in none of your business." The accent is earthy, Chicago, maybe Boston.
"Kinda long like that. Sorry if it gets in the way."
"I hear this time your investigating Company affairs." I rest my head in my hands. Should have known not to file my report inside the building. The Company has airspace vibration monitors running 24/7. "I wasn't, until you told me." I lift my head and get up slowly. The guards shuffle uneasily. I watch them from the corner of my eye.
"See Brandoni, when my nose smells something stinky, it starts itchin' like crazy and I can't help myself but go berserk..." At that moment I notice the guard on the left turn his head slightly to his companion. In the flash of a nanosecond I'm on him, my knee in his belly. I grab his gun as he crumples to the floor. The other guard turns to fire but I'm quicker and level the Tommy-Phaser square at her "Drop it!" The guard drops the wep and unclasping her suit, raises her hands. "Who are you? I never seen a man move that fast before!" "Name's Burn, James Burn." Without lowering the gun I walk over, straightening my tie. I reach up and loosen the clasp behind her head, letting her shimmering hair fall over her shoulders as I wrap my arm around her waist. "Burn me up, baby." She looks into my eyes, panting. Without a word, she reaches for me, kissing me like there's no tomorrow.
The door behind him slides open and and lights flood the room as a sensual female voice booms over the overhead speaker. "Holodeck Scenario 21 complete."
I lower the gun as the Chief walks in the door followed by a retinue of data crunchers. The nameplate on his chest reads: Danny Boy. He puts his hand over my shoulder. "Special agent Xean, you missed a part." "I'm getting old for this," I sigh, nodding my head. "Not really," I turn to the Manager, scanning the data on his pad. "Your reflex timer came in an at .007 nanoseconds less than last time." "Well, that's why I get paid for ain't it, to get it right to the last detail? What will you have me doing next, Dirty Hairy?" The chief grins. "Actually, I got just the assignment for you. Disappearing Credits, case is all yours." "Of all the shoot jobs...," I whisper under my breath.
"Actually," raising my voice, I announce matter-of-factly, "I thing I solved the case for you." "Really?" Chief looked surprised.
"Yeah see, Fleet marks are being spent by people all over the galaxy. They buy stuff in countless fleets with it, but where does it go? It makes no sense they just disappear into thin air, but you know what? It actually does. Now I know what you're thinking, Credits need to be spent for items and if you get an item, your credits are converted for it. But you gotta ask yourself one question."
"Why don't I feel lucky?" The Chief wiped his brow with his palm which flickered in the light.
"No, The question you should be asking is instead of letting fleet credits just disappear don't you think it would enhance the game experience by putting spent credits to use for fleet projects or into a fleet credit bank that totals the amount of fleet credits spent on a fleet or accumulates there for opening up special fleet rooms, abilities, or access. Now, don't you feel lucky you have me around to solve the case, punk?"
They hadn't noticed I still held the Tommy-Phaser in my left hand. In seconds the room is clear, a dozen Undine bodies lying dead on the floor. All but one. The manager at the desk was gone. On the desk lay a folio pad, on which a name was scribbled: Who is John Gaunt?
The fizz of an airlock makes me raise my head. The lights dimmed and the Holodeck door slid open. A familiar figure entered. "Hey Anni, pretty long training session huh." She looked at me quizzically. "How did you know it wasn't me?"
"You never kissed me like that."
"I never kissed you at all." Anni rounds the desk, her body snug in a skin-tight holo-suit. The thought strikes me, she could be naked under under the holoemitter. "Well there's always a first time." I move closer. "Where's your burn, baby."
She looks at me, fire in her eyes. "You don't want to know, just pass me the Preparation-H."
This is special agent Xean, deep in the heart of Covert Operations. Maybe I'll make it out alive and maybe I won't. But rest assured either way, they're screwed.
Copyright Xean
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Oh, and yes, XTERN1TY is a real fleet, uniquely designed for longterm players in mind. Our facilities are named after the main member(s) who helped to build it. XTERN1TY's currently looking to grow it's player base and has a unique open door policy, so feel free to drop by or pm me if you have any fleet questions (This is not a recruitment thread so please don't post them here).
Also, kind of silly for me to remind this, but just in case, any references to real persons and/or scenarios are totally for fun and not to be taken seriously.
If you like the story, let me know. I might mix some more illogic defying zanyness. 'Till next time, have a good one!
And yeah, it would be great if we could use fleet credits to buy anything besides Mine and Embassy provisions to go back into fleet holding contributions.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
This story and the way it's written, it makes you look like a tool.
Far too much self-advertising and ego inflating going on and it reads like a dollar store novella.
Naming literally everything about and around your fleet after yourself is just plain shameless.
Stealing someone else's fictionpress works and rewording them slightly to suit your needs is equally shameless.
If you have no capacity for original thought, either get to practicing, or at least admit it and quit the fake acts.
Nice necro, dental.
If you're trying to put fleet credits back into your holdings, they can also be used to purchase common DOFFs. How much of a loss you run doing so depends on whether you buy the general common DOFFs or the specialized ones.
Christian Gaming Community Fleets--Faith, Fun, and Fellowship! See the website and PM for more. :-)
Proudly F2P. Signature image by gulberat. Avatar image by balsavor.deviantart.com.
Although this post of his is old, and more something I found by chance and had to comment on for the sheer awfulness of it, here's a rough summary of his current situation.
His entire fleet (only T3) is essentially a vanity setup, one of many failed attempts at "community building". No members besides him really have any sort of rights or benefits. His "Help" channel he commonly bans people for helping because of "trying to take his channel away", and himself provides utterly false or purely bad advice. Any criticism of any action he undertakes is "trolling" and results in an imediate kick from the fleet. Of course, all of these actions are usually also resulting in lengthy mails outlining how the "moderators" (just him) decided on it.
The few people that did have rights ended up sabotaging his project setup to require a couple million dil which he spent a solid 20 minutes recently begging/ordering his fleet to dump their CC event rewards into because "he personally" dumped 100k(!) dil into them.
The remaining portion of his fleet and channel members mostly, by their own admission, stick around to see how badly he can sabotage himself, or are just straight up spies.
While he will be quick to deny all of this, because of course the reason his "community projects" always fail is certainly not to do with he himself, it's hillariously all logged/screenshotted, and well able to be provided for comedy's sake by many people.
In short it's not going to go anywhere fast.
I'm PMing askray about this thread.
mummy! mummy!
free jkname
Get the Forums Enhancement Extension!
No, but when I see someone necro a thread (thereby violating TOS) for the obvious purpose of starting a fight, I will call the appropriate authorities.
If you have a beef with the OP, take it up in-game. Don't necro forum threads with inflammatory posts.
and the person who necroed the thread in the first place wasn't? :rolleyes:
I find Xean and the other folks on that chat to be nice and helpful.
I am not a member of his fleet, so i can´t comment on fleet internal stuff, but i doubt it to be exploitive as some of the haters described it.
There you got my 2 EC.
Anyone who wants to get a real impression of the atmosphere, not just some forum trash talk, may join the chat.
Of course all folks there expect a civilised behaviour, after all, we´re representing the United Federation of Planets / the honorable and dignified Klingon Empire!
edit: it seems english and german forum system is separate, as are the forum user accounts. I habe a lifetime subscription, so i am not new to STO. Just to this part of the forums
The guy wrote a long story back there. Instead of laughing to it or skipping it, some nerdy kids involved into a semi-logical duel which led to this.
Give it a shot into being a decent community and cut it out with this crappy attitude. It only ruins the environement, so it ruins your fun, so it ruins STO experience. For you mostly and peripherally to others until they ignore you.
Xternity is a fun channel with alot of useful stuff. To be honest, it proved pretty useful and can still be. If you wanna outrun Xean, stop slendering and open your own channel which helps others.
Constructive competition people, constructive criticism and constructive enjoyable playing overall, folks.
My two andorian cents.
We do. It's called NoP Public Service and currently has close to 9000 active members. Most of those are also voluntarily assisting the general public and it is generally staffed around the clock allowing free access to any and all maxed fleet holdings and shipyards.
The only rules are no selling, and no drama.
Everyone is welcome, including you, to both get free access to what you need and to help out if you want to.
If Xean allows it without kicking you that is.
In any case, on the original topic, his story is terrible/stolen. As are his other works of poetry and fiction.
Crushing it's brain.
~CaptainSmirk