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TullyBBurnalot last won the day on February 8

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About TullyBBurnalot

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  • Birthday 06/07/1994

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  1. @necaladun A) Add morgue tray/trays to, say, a backroom near the armory B) Add cremator usage in the Full-Power Vampires/Changalangs caveats in Spess Law. All-in-all, doable, since it's already done anyway.
  2. I've... taken the liberty of redirecting this message to the Trurl's Psychological Evaluation Department. A representative will be with you shortly. Please do not resist.
  3. Company policy obligates me to inform you that we like our clowns and wish for them to have a good time, bless the Honkmother. pleasehelp
  4. Greetings, Mr. Concerned, I'm almost certain I've answered a question like this before, but I'll repeat myself just in case: ultimately, it is cheaper for us to deal with the fallout of occasionally hiring/inviting mentally unbalanced individuals than it is to institute a company-wide psychological vetting process; I'm sure you can imagine that logistics and bureaucracy get a tiny bit complicated when your organization operates on a literally galactic scale. So we just hire a few crazies every once in a while, pay off the lawsuits, provide clones when needed, and that's still a drop in the fucking ocean that would be a proper psych eval vetting system. As for advice, I dunno, ask Hydroponics for some Ambrosia? Just don't get caught smoking it, we're only technically allowed to grow it thanks to some legal fiction about "medical research".
  5. I wasn't even talking about you, but since you seem so inclined to deny any involvement, I'll make sure to notify Internal Affairs.
  6. For the last fucking time, SINA-, no, we cannot allow military-grade IPC platforms onto any of our facilities ever since your Central Processing Committee decided to start throwing lawsuits at us for failing to provide them with basic sentient rights or, in fact, a sense of self. If that wasn't enough, then we had the whole string of incidents with the Tranzor Terror, the multiple bombings on Mars, and let's not forget the devastating Bar Boycott of 2498. For safety reasons, you get plastic, and you'll like it. And if you don't, tough shit, you aren't getting anywhere near any of our shiny shit with your shiny shit.
  7. Greetings, Dr. Z! A complementary box of the finest chocolates our Bluespace RnD Department teleported from the chocolate factories of Sweet Tooth Inc. has been sent to your desk, courtesy of being the only person to actually give enough of a shit to ask me how I am. Keep on keepin' on, darlin'. Anyway, life here's quite a way's better than what you call life over there; we're not really stuck somewhere that keeps being contested by a bunch of terrorist organizations, and frankly, we've got a way, way bigger budget for staff vetting, on-site security, station defensive measures and Bluespace shielding, meaning that it's actually pretty safe to work around here; Taco Tuesdays notwithstanding. Pay's kinda shit, but I assume that's because my disciplinary folder is now the size of a medium-sized cabinet. Apart from that, most of my job involves sitting in front of multiple monitors and making sure communication lines are open. So, the usual, running routine maintenance checks on the Klapaucius, answering faxes and direct-link emergency messages, making sure we don't get impersonated by Changelings, yadayadayada. Really, the only negative of working on the Trurl is that the dress code is fucking terrible. You think I like dressing up like some tacticool edgelord? As for the ERT Applications, those don't technically ever close, we just don't accept anyone unless we need folks to fill in for casualties; our ERT forces are expansive as it is, and we can effectively dedicate a team to each of our installations if required. So really, if you want a good shot at getting in, wait until the Cyberiad goes through an emergency that requires an ERT being called and then hope one of the bastards dies off so you can take their spot. That's how a good quarter of our ERT force got the job anyway.
  8. First off, I'd appreciate it if you didn't reveal sensitive information such as CLASSIFIED ERT MISSION STATEMENTS on a public mailing list. Secondly, I made sure to fix your problems within a few minutes of me noticing no one above my paygrade was around to fix the problem for me: any and all non-human arrivals to the Trurl will be redirected to the ERT Training Program. Hope you brushed up on your Sinta'Unathi.
  9. Little known fact: it's the Communications Department that dispatches and monitors automated messaging systems. We don't receive them. Stop redirecting spam to our Department, Bill, no one's going to like you better for it.
  10. Hello, Toodles! Glad to know you haven't been thrown out an airlock yet (again). Unfortunately, company policy forbids the Clown from holding a position with the slightest amount of responsibility while we're looking, and by sending this message, you made me look. Sorry about that, now we can't plausibly deny we had any knowledge of this. As compensation, we'll send over a couple of foam force DONK Machineguns over to your last registered extant address (sorry, but the Clown Planet doesn't exist anymore, just let it go); hopefully this will help with the crippling lack of Clown Captains. First off, we have filtered air scrubbers. Those things are literally everywhere (as per OSHA Safety Regulation 1235512.123144). Secondly, have you not noticed the multitude of "No Smoking" signs we have splattered all over everywhere remotely related to plasma research? Have you been ignoring the "No Smoking" signs? Oh boy, this again. Well, dearest Mister Warden, before we were forced to surreptitiously bury that part of company history underneath a multitude of layers of legal paperwork and a non-insignificant number of bodies, the NSS Cyberiad was once given the denomination of NCS Cyberiad, short for NanoTrasen Commercial Station. See, this was before we realized that Epsilon Eridani was a tad bit more dangerous than initially estimated, and we were forced to change the official classification (since we legally can't plop down commercial facilities anywhere that technically holds a Standard Threat Level of 5 or above. Epsilon Eridani sits at a nice 9). However, just because we changed the classification doesn't mean we need to change any of the on-site protocols in regards to who we technically allow on the station as long as it's on Code Green, and hey, all we had to do was fund further Security forces and we were all set! And trust me, regardless of how much shit they may steal, or how much of an annoyance they may be, they pay out the ass to be on the station to begin with. Net profit is the name of the game!
  11. Greetings, Mister [Sign] Now, personally, I don't really understand why either, and if you ask me, it's just political maneuvering by NanoTrasen to avoid stepping on further toes after the unmitigated disaster that was our intervention in the Third Great Clown-Mime War (the one that ended in us burying the Throne of the Honkmother under several layers of radioactive waste following orbital bombardment). While the details were never made public, one can only guess mimes and clowns are allowed in for the sake of not provoking yet another war. Obviously, if you ask anyone from the company what the real reason is, they'll give you some spiel about clowns and mimes just being regular folks who chose a less orthodox career in entertainment, but we all know how true that is, don't we? ###cd comp_schedules### ###cd med_schedules### ###type jenkins_med_schedule.txt### ### ### ### Oh, goddamnit. ###cd comp_schedules### ###rmdir med_schedules###
  12. I'm not the Accounting Department, and even if I wasn't, I probably wouldn't have the authorization to give anyone a raise, since I'd do that to myself and end up demoted back to, I dunno, Basic Bureaucrat Class-1 or something. Pack of "Haggis"-brand chewing gum has been sent in the mail as compensation. Also yes, you do get paid in the standard galactic currency that is the Space Credit. I apologize profusely, Mister Lem, but as per your current status as a Class-[REDACTED] Priority Person of Interest, I am not allowed to know you exist. In addition, even if I had a stash of hyperzine, which I don't, I would be forbidden by Galactic Mandate 35.112, "Concerning Matters of Health" from either owning, creating and/or distributing the substance known as hyperzine, which I don't, can't and don't have any of the substance to, respectively. Finally, I should note that by contacting me via an internal office memo, you are in violation of NanoTrasen's Intra-Corporation Secrecy Protocol BTA-2112, and as such, I will be forced to send a strongly-worded letter to your supervisor, the name of which I am also not allowed to disclose that I am aware of, which I'm not. In short: suck my dick, Novus.
  13. Company policy requires that I not answer this in accordance with my personal beliefs, so have an excerpt of the leaflet I get every time I get sent to a Species Sensitivity Seminar: ###cd useless_stuff### ###type speciesm_bollocks_leaflet.doc### ### ### ### "We here at NanoTrasen are happy to use our vast resources to facilitate intra-species cooperation and cultural exchange, via our revolutionary Post-Progressive Employee Vetting mechanism, guaranteed to maximize both worker efficiency and species diversity in the workplace! NanoTrasen is not liable for any racially-motivated incidents that may arise as a result of this process."
  14. ERT Gallia-3 dispatched to location. Please stand by. Instructions unclear, hopefully a 3D-printed pair of safety scissors should be enough? Did you lose your gun again? Ah, yes, Peggy. ... Peggy. I'm ever so happy to report that, due to outstanding work ethic and general operational efficiency, dearest Comms Officer Peggy has been reassigned away from this shithole promoted to a position as Diplomatic Liaison with the Sol Trade Consortium. Something about wanting to capitalize on "cultural propensities for trade" or whatever. I'll make sure to relay this wonderful message and totally get an autographed mixtape from our dearest mutual friend. Also no, we're not currently hiring anyone for "diversity", we already brought a batch of soap-munchers Drask on-board and have been having fun seeing how many of them make it through the selection process. As for the random skipjack crews that tended to show up, you are aware that the only reason they did was because they somehow managed to skirt through our defense grid, right? All it took was our Bluespace nerds getting their hands on one of their ships and reverse-engineering their engine drive to block them off from approaching our installations without proper authorization. Something about "improved filtering" tech, whatever that is. To compensate, I've enclosed the full collection of "Vox Gone Wild" holovids in a physical flash drive and mailed it over to your registered address (Supply Closet BA-1422, right?). Hopefully it'll make up for the lack of dearest Peggy.
  15. Oh, for the love o- Sigh... ###cd emergency_measures### ###WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS TO FOLDER IS PUNISHABLE BY SUMMARY APPLICATION OF FORCE BY ON-SITE SECURITY FORCES. INPUT AUTHORIZATION### ###USERNAME:### ComoJayDog ###PASSWORD:### ******************************************************************************* ###AUTHORIZATION GRANTED### ###run klapaucius_reset.exe### ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ###RESET SUCCESSFUL. WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE###