Star Trek: The Next Gamer

Episode 8: Too Short A Season

Stardate: 41309.4
Earth Standard Date: April 23, 2364
Location: Korriban via Sith Infiltrator, The Scimitar, Persephone System

T'Pol's voice crackled through Tyson's communicator. "Tyson, the Enterprise is preparing to depart from the Persephone system."

Tyson's mind was still racing with plans for his newly revitalized Sith Academy. "Acknowledged, T'Pol. Have the Scimitar drop the cloak and request docking clearance. Send our medical scans to Doctor Crusher so she can verify we're free of the Tarellian plague. And, please send the Tarellians into the Korriban Instant Dungeon."

Closing the communication, Tyson turned to his companion, "Visas, I have a favor to ask. Are you willing to stay here at the Academy? Your presence could be a positive influence on the dark energy that seems to permeate this place."

Visas tilted her head slightly, considering his request. "I will stay, Tyson," she agreed, her voice tinged with reassurance. "And I agree. I believe I can make a difference here, and perhaps help to guide the Academy's future in a more balanced direction."

Tyson couldn't help but smile, "Thank you. Set the Tarellians up in the Residence when they arrive, but keep them out of the corridors until we're sure they're safe. I'll return when I'm able." And with a kiss, Tyson returned to the Scimitar.

Perk Activated! Out of Nowhere

Tyson gestured for T'Pol to follow him as they made their way into the shuttlebay. As they walked, he explained his plan to use his Gamer abilities to quickly visit the D'kyr and retrieve its starcharts without ever leaving the shuttle bay. T'Pol raised an eyebrow in her typical Vulcan fashion but said nothing. He dragged the D'kyr out of his Inventory, the long Vulcan ship manifested in the form of a scaled-down model. He accessed his Gamer abilities, and within moments, the environment around them shifted. The pair found themselves standing on the D'kyr's bridge.

T'Pol looked around, momentarily disoriented but quickly regained her composure. "Remarkable," she said, her tone betraying a hint of fascination. "I must admit, I did not expect that to work so effectively."

Tyson grinned, "Well, let's not waste any time," he said, moving to the main console. He quickly downloaded a copy of the ship's starcharts and handed the data pad to T'Pol. "My experience on Coruscant triggered an idea that you're uniquely suited to help with. I need you to analyze these starcharts and mark out the approximate location of the automated repair station. These starcharts aren't as accurate as the current Federation ones, but will be appropriate for my goals."

With their mission accomplished, Tyson used his Gamer abilities once more to return them to the shuttle bay.

Tyson's communicator chirped, the familiar voice of Dr. Crusher coming through. "Tyson, can you please come to sickbay?"

He looked at T'Pol, who gave him a nod of understanding. With a smile, Tyson leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on her lips before parting ways. "I'll see you later, T'Pol."

Making his way to sickbay, Tyson's thoughts continued to swirl around Korriban and all the things he would need to do.

Upon entering sickbay, he found Captain Picard and Dr. Crusher waiting for him. Tyson greeted them with a nod. "Captain. Doctor, you wanted to see me?" he inquired.

Picard greeted him, "Welcome back, Ensign. It is good to see you healthy. Congratulations on a successful mission."

Dr. Crusher responded, "Yes, we received your report on your work with the Tarellians, and we were hoping you could give us a more detailed debriefing on how the treatment process went."

Tyson nodded and began recounting his experience, detailing the steps he had gone through to set up the Tarellian vessel and deploy the treatment. Captain Picard and Dr. Crusher listened intently, clearly impressed by Tyson's problem-solving when he experienced setbacks.

As he finished his explanation, Dr. Crusher smiled warmly. "Tyson, your work is truly remarkable. The potential impact of this treatment on the Tarellians' lives is immense. You've given them a chance to rebuild and thrive, free from the burden of their devastating illness."

Captain Picard chimed in, a proud gleam in his eyes. "Indeed. Well done, Ensign."

The Captain shifted focus. "I'd like to update you on our status. Admiral Jameson is on board for diplomatic negotiations. Doctor Crusher was about to inform me of his health status."

Dr. Crusher's brow furrowed with concern as she made her report. "Captain, I've analyzed the admiral's health status and found traces of chemical substances in his blood and tissue samples. However, none of them are in our pharmacopeia. I'm still working on alien references to substances like these. All I can tell you is that he's ingested something that's strongly affecting his body."

Picard's expression hardened as he pressed for more information. "Specifics, Doctor."

Crusher hesitated, her uncertainty evident. "Captain, there are so many things going on, I can't give you specifics until I do a lot more tests."

"Give me what you have now," Picard insisted.

Crusher took a deep breath and began to explain. "His red cell count is running riot. The cellular structure of his body is radically changing, but we can't make any decisions on that until we know what it's changing to. His DNA is skewed. Don't ask me how, but he even looks younger. And Captain, there are no traces of Iverson's Disease."

Picard looked incredulous. "You said there is no cure for Iverson's Disease."

"None that we know of," Crusher confirmed. "But whatever these substances are doing to his body, at least they've done that for him. But how or why? It's too early to say."

"Get me some answers, Doctor. As soon as possible," Picard ordered.

"Yes, sir," Crusher replied, her expression resolute. She turned to Tyson, her eyes pleading. "Tyson, I could use your help with this."

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Dr. Crusher and Tyson hunched over a console, pouring over the admiral's medical test results. The hours ticked by, the two of them worked tirelessly, discussing theories and examining data. Crusher pulled up various charts, her eyes scanned the information with practiced expertise. As they dug deeper, a disturbing realization began to form. "Tyson, look at this," Crusher said, pointing to a section of the admiral's medical analysis. "His DNA isn't stabilizing."

Tyson leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the data. "You're right, Doctor. The rate of change is increasing, and the pattern is erratic."

Crusher's brow furrowed with concern. "If this continues, it could lead to a total cellular breakdown. We need to find a way to reverse or at least halt the process."

Tyson nodded in agreement, the gravity of the situation settling in. "We should look for any clues in the chemical substances found in the admiral's system. Perhaps we can identify a way to counteract the effects."

Together, they refocused their efforts on identifying the mysterious chemicals and their potential interactions with the admiral's biology. But as he worked, Tyson remembered a theorized treatment from his time. "Doctor, during my time we had theories that a retrovirus could be modified to induce specific changes in DNA. Was that research ever continued?"

Crusher paused, considering Tyson's question as she absently tapped her fingers on the console. "Retroviral genetic therapy? Yes, it's come a long way since your time. We've used modified retroviruses to treat certain genetic disorders and even to cure some diseases. But the technology isn't without its limitations and risks."

Tyson, intrigued by the potential connection, pressed further. "Since we know the chemicals found in the admiral's system destabilized his DNA, could we use a retroviral treatment to rewrite or stabilize it?"

Crusher mulled over Tyson's suggestion, her brow furrowed in deep thought. "It's an interesting idea, but using a retroviral treatment to stabilize the admiral would be risky. We'd need to be certain of the exact cause of the instability and have a thorough understanding of the chemicals in his system. Otherwise, we might make the situation worse."

Tyson nodded in understanding. "If we can identify the specific chemical cause maybe we can find a way to counteract its effects or even reverse them."

Crusher looked at Tyson, her eyes filled with determination. "Let's get to work then. We'll need to run more tests and analyze the compounds in detail. It's a long shot, but it might be the admiral's only chance."

They knew that time was of the essence, and they were determined to find a solution to save the admiral's life. With each passing hour, their collaboration brought them closer to unraveling the mystery behind the admiral's condition and developing a potential treatment. Tyson and Crusher found themselves facing a significant challenge in their quest to isolate the compound the admiral had consumed.

The admiral had taken two doses of the unknown serum and destroyed the containers. The only resource they had was the small blood sample he had provided. Compounding the issue was the admiral's refusal to give another blood sample, leaving them with no room for error. They carefully analyzed the blood sample, running it through various tests and equipment, hoping to separate the compound from the myriad of other components present in the blood. Frustration seeped Tyson's mind as he peered through a microscope.

Crusher offered words of encouragement. "We can't afford to give up. The admiral's life is at stake." She glanced over at the small vial containing the precious blood sample, "We just need to be more creative in our approach."

Tyson sighed, "You're right, Doctor. Let's try a different approach. You mentioned earlier the admiral initially provided you with an old medical report. Would it be possible to use that information to isolate the chemical?"

Crusher's eyes widened, "It's a long shot, but we might be able to use it as a reference point. If we can identify any major differences in the admiral's biochemistry between the old report and our current findings, it could lead us to the compound."

Tyson agreed, "It's worth a shot. Let's get that report and start comparing the data."

With a renewed sense of purpose, they pulled up the admiral's old medical report on a nearby screen. They meticulously compared it to the results from their recent blood tests, searching for any discrepancies that could be attributed to the mysterious compound. As the hours passed, Tyson and Crusher began to identify a handful of differences in the admiral's biochemistry. They cautiously cross-referenced these findings with their current test results, hoping to isolate the specific effects of the compound. Finally, they found a promising lead. "Look at this," Tyson said, pointing to a particular chemical marker on the screen. "This wasn't present in the old report, and it's not a naturally occurring substance in the body. It must be related to the compound."

Crusher's eyes lit up with excitement. "That's it! We've found our target. Now we just need to figure out how to counteract its effects and stabilize the admiral's DNA."

With the breakthrough discovery, Tyson and Crusher set to work on designing a treatment to neutralize the compound's effects. They knew they were racing against the clock, as the admiral's condition continued to deteriorate.

Tyson pulled up the holographic model of the baseline retrovirus used in the therapy. He input the changes they'd need to make. Once that was set, his interface popped up. Tyson had never used the crafting interface in his system. It displayed many alterations he could make to the virus and its effect on the difficulty of its creation.

"Interesting," Tyson murmured, studying the holographic interface intently.

Perk Synergy! (Power Eater & Plague Doctor)

Tyson browsed the list of modifications available and began making alterations. All the changes he'd encountered through his use of Power Eater were available. Tyson needed to add an 'adult' side-effect to get the full difficulty reduction from Plague Doctor, so he chose the most benign one available. Klingon Constitution increased the Constitution and Max Constitution attributes. This is considered 'adult' because Constitution determines the number of rounds you can go in bed before needing to rest.

+50 - DNA Stabilizing Retrovirus.
+10 - Non-Contagious.
+ 5 - Klingon Constitution.
-20 - Plague Doctor.

Life Science skill Increased! (36)

Tyson stored the hypospray containing the retrovirus in his Inventory. The downside of the retroviral treatment was that it worked slowly. The effect would only spread as quickly as the virus propagated. Just as he secured the hypospray, his communicator beeped, signaling an incoming message.

"Ensign Tyson, report to the transporter room. We have an away mission that requires your expertise," Captain Picard's voice came through the small device.

"Acknowledged, Captain. I'm on my way," Tyson replied.

Crusher said farewell with a hint of concern in her expression, "Good luck with your mission. We'll hold down the fort here."

With a nod, Tyson left the sickbay, surreptitiously storing the Admiral's blood sample in his Inventory, then hurried through the corridors of the Enterprise.

Thievery Skill Increased! (3)

Tyson entered the transporter room to find Worf, Tasha, and Data already standing on the pads, waiting for the mission to begin. Tyson blurted out, "Oh man, this must be serious if we've got the whole varsity team going."

Then, the Gamer recognized the air of seriousness permeating the room. He'd walked into a confrontation between the two highest-ranking officers and made a joke. He puckered his lips, pretended no one noticed his faux pas, and stepped up to the pad with the others.

The tension in the room was palpable as Admiral Jameson and Captain Picard stood facing each other, engaged in a quiet but heated exchange. "Prepare to energize, Chief," Jameson ordered his voice firm.

Picard raised a hand, halting the transporter chief. "Belay that," he commanded. "Admiral, your proper place is on the Bridge."

Jameson's eyes narrowed, his expression unyielding. "I will remind you one more time, Picard, I am the Senior Mission Commander, and I'm leading this team."

Riker, who had been observing the exchange, stepped forward, concern etched on his face. "Sir?"

Picard sighed, his gaze never leaving the admiral. "The admiral is correct, Number One. He has that right. But I am the Captain of this ship, and I have a right to accompany him." Looking at Riker, he added, "Riker, you're in command of the Enterprise. Energize."

With a final nod from Picard, the transporter chief activated the sequence, and the away team members dematerialized in a shimmering glow.

They reappeared within tunnels, finding themselves in a spacious area with a high ceiling and surrounded by concrete walls. "Yes, perfect," Jameson declared confidently. "We are in the M-4 tunnel, directly under the Governor's residence. M-4 is a subsidiary tunnel, but it crosses and links with several main ones."

Data consulted his tricorder, a puzzled expression on his face. "I am sorry, sir. That does not correspond with the information in my tricorder, sir."

Jameson dismissed the android's concerns with a wave of his hand. "Your information is incorrect, Commander. I know these tunnels like the back of my hand. Keep scanning for signs of human life forms. Karnas held his hostages in these tunnels before. He'll do it again."

The group proceeded down the tunnel, weapons at the ready. Data's uncertainty persisted as he glanced at his tricorder once more. "Captain, the Admiral is incorrect. The schematics show this tunnel to be a dead end. It was sealed off two years ago."

Picard nodded, his expression thoughtful. "No doubt you're right, Mister Data. However, forty-five years ago, I'm sure it linked in with the tunnels the Admiral remembers."

As they arrived at the dead end, Jameson's face fell, and he clenched his fists in frustration. "Damn." The team exchanged wary glances.

Picard frowned, concern etching his features as he looked to Tyson for input. "Ensign?"

In response, Tyson pulled HALO, his sensor drone, from his Inventory and equipped his armor. A minimap appeared in his HUDas HALO fed him sensor readings. He reported, "The tunnel continues beyond this wall."

Jameson nodded, his eyes looking over Tyson's armor warily. "This is the most direct route. Set phasers to cut through it."

"No need." stated the Gamer. Without hesitation, Tyson equipped his lightsabers and swiftly sliced through the wall, revealing the hidden path.

Tasha chimed in, "If you have the coordinates where you think the hostages are, sir, we could just beam in over there."

Jameson's face hardened. "Karnas may not have them in the same place. There's no substitute, Lieutenant, for personal reconnoiter." He led the group through the hole, his determination palpable with every step.

HALO pinged Tyson with a warning. The Gamer quickly moved ahead, grabbed the Admiral and pulled him behind cover. "There are infrared sensors up ahead; likely motion alarms. And I'm sensing hostile intent heading our way."

Picard barked out an order. "Reset phasers to stun."

Suddenly, a phaser beam fired at them, barely missing the team. Picard's voice rang out, urgent and tense, "Take cover!"

Veteran Soldier (Lvl 6)
Defenses: Reflex Defense: 18, Fortitude Defense: 17, Will Defense: 19.
Hit Points: 40.
Melee: Knife +8 (1d4+2)
Ranged: Blaster Pistol +10 (3d6+2)
Abilities: Str 10, Dex 14, Con12, Int 15, Wis 13, Cha 15.
Possessions: Combat Jumpsuit (+4 Reflex), Knife, Phaser Pistol.

The Starfleet officers quickly took cover, seeking refuge behind any available obstacles. Tyson, however, wasn't worried by the low-level soldiers. As enemy phaser fire bore down on him, he effortlessly deflected the deadly energy bolts with his lightsabers. Tyson closed the distance between himself and the veteran soldiers, his lightsabers a dazzling blur. He danced through their ranks like a whirlwind, delivering precise, nonlethal strikes to incapacitate his adversaries. To the onlookers, it seemed as though he was an unstoppable force, a masterful warrior wielding his twin blades with unmatched skill.

Lightsaber Skill Increased! (18)

Tyson carved a path through the enemy forces, his swift movements made short work of the soldiers. The moment he reached striking distance, the outcome of the fight was all but decided; the soldiers stood no chance against his formidable skills. One by one, they crumpled to the ground, incapacitated by Tyson's expert blows.

+2700 Exp (129,500/397,000)

With the immediate threat neutralized, a sudden cry from Picard caught Tyson's attention. "Ensign Tyson, we need your medical expertise!" The urgency in the captain's voice was unmistakable. Tyson swiftly stored his lightsabers and hurried over to where Picard was crouched beside the Admiral.

Something was amiss with Jameson's condition. His once-youthful appearance was marred by a pained expression, and sweat beaded on his brow.

Admiral Jameson.
Level 7 Human Diplomat.
Defenses: Reflex: 19, Fortitude: 20, Will: 22.
Hit Points: 4/12 (45)
Unarmed: +4 (1d4-1)
Phaser: +5 (3d6)
Attributes: Str: 8, Dex: 10, Constitution: (4) 14, Int: 16, Wis: 12, Cha: 18.
Negative Status Effect DNA Degradation (Stage 4): Consuming 2 Imperfect Potions Of Youth have caused Admiral Jameson's DNA to become unstable. Max Constitution reduced by 10. -10% HP per round.

As Tyson approached the struggling Admiral Jameson, the severity of his condition became painfully apparent. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, and his breaths came in short, labored gasps. It was clear that the DNA Degradation had advanced, causing the admiral's health to plummet with each passing moment.

Knowing that time was of the essence, Tyson employed the Art of the Small technique. As he channeled the healing energy into the admiral, the older man's health was restored and his status effect faded. However, the respite was temporary, as Jameson's health continued to decline. The status effect was due to the unstable nature of his DNA, Art of the Small removed it, but since it didn't fix his DNA, the damage would return almost immediately.

Desperate to save the admiral's life, Tyson retrieved the retroviral treatment from his Inventory. As he administered the dose, he knew that he would have to remain vigilant at the admiral's side, monitoring his condition while the treatment worked its way through his system.

Jameson's condition was dire; he was losing 10 of his 12 hit points every minute. Tyson had no choice but to use Art of the Small almost constantly, drawing upon the Force to keep the admiral alive. Under normal circumstances, this would have been impossible due to the power's reliance on Force Points. However, the admiral's diminished Constitution score allowed Tyson to bypass that requirement, enabling him to maintain the healing process indefinitely.

Art of the Small
Spend one Force Point. The target heals hit points equal to 4x their level. Make a Use the Force check, if the value exceeds the hit points healed, do not spend a Force Point. Instead of healing, you can choose to reduce a Negative Status Effect by one stage or remove a Negative Status Effect if it has no stages.

With the situation growing increasingly critical, the away team was transported back to the Enterprise. Once there, Tyson remained steadfast at Jameson's side, channeling the healing power of Art of the Small to keep him alive. Minutes turned into hours as the ship's medical team could only watch on as Tyson kept the Admiral alive.

The Gamer maintained a constant vigil, hoping that the retroviral treatment would eventually take effect and stabilize Jameson's DNA. As the hours stretched on and Tyson continued to use his power to heal Jameson, the repetition of the process began to weigh on him. What had initially been intense, quickly devolved into a monotonous routine that tested his resolve and patience.

Doctor Crusher attempted to alleviate his boredom by engaging him in conversation, asking him to explain how his power worked. As Tyson described the Force, Crusher's curiosity was piqued, and she began taking scans and making notes, she tried gleaning insight into the mysterious workings of this 'Force'. Particularly his mention of midichlorians, which somehow had evaded discovery by Federation doctors and scientists. While Tyson appreciated the doctor's efforts, the relentless nature of his task made it difficult to maintain his enthusiasm. He found himself answering her questions mechanically, his mind drifting to other matters as he continued to repetitively heal the admiral.

Crusher, ever perceptive, could see the toll this ordeal was taking on Tyson. She sought to provide support and encouragement, reminding him of the importance of his role in the admiral's recovery. The doctor couldn't help but find her respect for the man growing with each passing hour.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Tyson was still seated in sickbay, the rhythmic hum of life-support systems created a backdrop of muted sound. Admiral Jameson lay motionless on a biobed, his labored breathing was the only sign of the battle he was waging every minute, fighting for recovery.

With only a skeleton medical crew around him, Tyson felt the creeping weight of silence gnaw at his composure. The sanitized aura felt too stark, too lonely. He needed something else, a voice, a presence, to keep his mind focused and the solitude at bay.

Reaching up to tap his combadge, Tyson spoke in a low tone reserved for quiet spaces. "Tyson to T'Pol," he began, his voice cut through the hum of machinery.

There was a pause, and then the cool, measured voice of the Vulcan science officer responded, "T'Pol here."

"I was wondering if you'd care to join me in sickbay," Tyson proposed.

There was a moment of silence, T'Pol finally replied, "I will make my way there shortly."

T'Pol arrived in sickbay, her eyes took in the quiet scene before her. Tyson gestured to a chair near him, "Please, have a seat, T'Pol."

He knew she was not one for wasted words, and so he cut straight to the matter. "On Haven, I recall your skepticism towards Visas Marr's Force abilities. But after seeing the evidence of their effectiveness firsthand..."

The Vulcan officer inclined her head slightly. "Yes, I confess I held doubts initially. However, it would be illogical to dismiss empirical evidence."

Her words were as cool and matter-of-fact as ever, and Tyson appreciated her candor. "I'd like to teach you the basics of tapping into the Force. If you're willing, that is."

T'Pol regarded him for a moment before finally responding, "I am willing to listen."

Tyson nodded and reached over to the nearby table, picking up a medical tricorder. "The Force isn't magic, T'Pol, it's an energy that flows through us and all around us. It binds us and interconnects us. To harness it, you need to tap into your feelings, your instincts."

He set the scanner on the table in front of them. "Try to clear your mind. Focus on the object. Feel its weight, its texture. Imagine it in your mind, and feel its connection to everything around it, including you."

T'Pol followed his instructions, her gaze fixated on the scanner. Her expression remained impassive, yet the intense concentration in her eyes was undeniable.

"Now," Tyson continued his voice barely a whisper, "try to lift it. Don't 'think' it into the air. Instead, 'feel' it rising."

To the untrained eye, it might have appeared nothing happened. But Tyson saw it. A flicker, a micro-movement of the scanner that indicated the interaction between T'Pol and the Force.

Seeing her struggle with his instructions, Tyson realized he had to adjust his approach. Teaching others to Use the Force was a highly personal journey, and T'Pol's Vulcan nature made the typical teachings less effective. Instead, he decided to take a more logical, Vulcan-friendly route.

"Alright, let's try something different," Tyson began, collecting his thoughts. "Vulcans excel in their understanding of physics, yes?"

T'Pol gave a nod. "Indeed. It is a fundamental part of our education."

"Then let's try to use that." Tyson gestured towards the scanner. "Consider this object, not from a sensory or emotional perspective, but as a set of atomic particles, bound by laws of physics."

As T'Pol looked at the scanner, Tyson could almost see the shift in her approach. "Now, imagine that you're not trying to 'lift' the object, but rather you're trying to manipulate the forces acting upon it. Visualize it in a state of anti-gravity, each atom repelling from the surface of the table."

A tense moment passed. Then, to Tyson's delight, the scanner wobbled, lifted a few millimeters, then a few more, hovering in the air. The sight was subtle, but it was there, tangible and undeniably real.

T'Pol's eyes, always so controlled, revealed a spark of something akin to surprise. "Fascinating," she said, the scanner hovering steadily before her.

Tyson couldn't help but grin. "And that, T'Pol, is only the beginning. With the Force, all things are interconnected. You've just experienced your first step in understanding that connection."

As the medical equipment continued its steady rhythm, Tyson maintained his vigil over Admiral Jameson, alternating between his treatment duties and his mentoring. He could see T'Pol's mental exertion beginning to show signs of fatigue, her normally stoic features softening with the effort of Force manipulation. Perhaps it was time for a change of pace.

"Let's move on to something different," Tyson suggested, reaching into his Inventory. He pulled out a cylindrical object, its metallic sheen glinting under the soft light of the sickbay. "It's called a lightsaber," Tyson explained. "The weapon of a Jedi. Inside this hilt is a crystal, typically a Kyber crystal. When energy is passed through the crystal, it creates a blade of pure plasma, stabilized within a magnetic field."

He handed the deactivated weapon to T'Pol, who took it with measured reverence. "Take this and stand in the center of the room."

As T'Pol complied, Tyson began instructing her on the basic stance of Shii-Cho, the first form of lightsaber combat. "Feet shoulder-width apart, right foot slightly forward. Hold the lightsaber with both hands, right above left, and extend it forward diagonally."

T'Pol followed his instructions, her movements were fluid and precise, a testament to her disciplined Vulcan training. Her gaze was steady on the unignited lightsaber, her focus complete.

Tyson watched as T'Pol held the deactivated lightsaber, her posture mirroring the basic stance of Shii-Cho he'd just outlined. It was a start, but learning the form would require far more than just standing correctly.

"Good," he affirmed, noting her precision. "Now, Shii-Cho is the most elementary form of lightsaber combat. It is simplicity itself, yet that simplicity can be deceptive."

He moved around T'Pol, scrutinizing her stance from every angle. "The movements in Shii-Cho are broad and sweeping, designed to take on multiple opponents. However, it requires precision and control, not just of the weapon, but of your own body and movement as well."

Tyson demonstrated, his body flowing through the basic movements of Shii-Cho, each step and swing a testament to the hours of experience he had endured to reach mastery.

"Watch," he said, his voice a quiet command. He swung the lightsaber in a wide arc, then quickly parried an imaginary blow. "You're not just cutting and blocking. You're moving. You're flowing. Each step, each swing, and block are all connected. It's a dance."

He handed the lightsaber back to T'Pol, taking a moment to heal Jameson again before watching as she replicated his movements. The first few attempts were awkward, her normally graceful movements lacked the fluidity needed. But Tyson was patient while correcting her form, adjusting her grip, and guiding her through each motion.

Gradually, T'Pol began to get a feel for the movements, her swings grew more confident, her steps more grounded. She moved with a precision that Tyson hadn't often seen in beginners, her discipline serving her well in this new, unfamiliar art.

"Good, T'Pol," Tyson praised, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "Very good. Keep practicing. Remember the flow, the rhythm. Shii-Cho isn't just about fighting. It's about control, rhythm, and harmony."

"Alright, T'Pol," Tyson said after several cycles of practice. His voice held a certain gravity, the importance of the next step clear in his tone. "I believe you understand the basics. It's time to engage the lightsaber."

T'Pol held the hilt before her, thumb hovering over the ignition switch. After a moment, she pressed it. The room was filled with the distinct hum of the lightsaber, its bright, blue blade cast long shadows around the sickbay. T'Pol stared at it, an otherworldly glow reflected in her eyes. Then, with a nod to Tyson, she began moving through the forms of Shii-Cho.

As she moved, the humming blade traced radiant arcs through the dim room. Tyson observed her form, his gaze sharp, attentive. He looked for flaws, for any deviation from the correct form, no matter how minor.

There were mistakes, as there always were with beginners. But instead of correcting her verbally, Tyson chose a different approach. Each time she made an error, he used the Force to subtly correct her. If her swing was too wide, a gentle Force push would narrow it. If her stance was off, he'd adjust her foot positioning. Each correction was minute, almost imperceptible, but necessary for perfect precision.

Tyson watched as T'Pol became more fluid with each passing moment, her movements slowly mirroring the elegant dance he had demonstrated earlier. Despite the initial awkwardness, her commitment to learning and improving was clear in every motion she made.

After what felt like hours, T'Pol finally lowered the humming blade of the lightsaber. The blue glow disappeared with a sharp fizzle as she disengaged the weapon, her chest rose and fell enticingly. She returned the hilt to Tyson, her fingers brushing against his.

"Thank you, Tyson," she said, her voice retaining its calm, even tone despite the physical exertion. Her eyes, usually so guarded, held an undeniable spark of gratitude. "You have provided me with an unexpected perspective. I am... appreciative of the opportunity to explore these new possibilities."

Tyson smiled, his eyes meeting hers. "You've done well, T'Pol. I'm glad I could share this with you."

T'Pol seemed to consider him for a moment, then she leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. The action was swift, almost clinical in its execution, but held a depth of meaning beyond the physical contact. "Goodnight, Tyson," she murmured, stepping back. With that, she turned on her heel and departed from the sickbay, leaving Tyson alone with his thoughts, the steady beeping of the medical equipment, and the labored breathing of the Admiral.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Despite the monotony, Tyson persevered, holding onto the knowledge that the retroviral treatment would eventually take effect and stabilize Jameson's condition. Through it all, Doctor Crusher remained by his side, providing a beacon of support in an otherwise seemingly endless ordeal.

Captain Picard entered the sickbay, concern creasing his brow as he approached the weakened Admiral Jameson. The medical staff moved around them as the Admiral was currently conscious. The scene was suddenly interrupted by a beep from Picard's communicator.

"Bridge to Picard." Came Commander Riker through the combadge

"Picard here."

"A new message from Karnas, sir. If we don't deliver Jameson in five minutes, one of the hostages will be executed. Fifteen minutes after that, another." The first officer paused briefly, "He promises the method of execution will be most painful."

Jameson's eyes flickered with determination as he strained to speak. "Let me go. If I give myself over to him, he'll let the hostages go. It's me he wants."

Picard hesitated, his voice filled with compassion. "It would mean certain death for you, Admiral."

"My life for how many hostages, Picard? Twenty? Let me go." Pleaded the Admiral.

At that moment, Tyson interjected, "Admiral, Captain, might I propose an alternative, sirs?" He proceeded to quickly explain his plan, offering a safe alternative.

"Number One, inform Karnas that Admiral Jameson will be beaming down in less than five minutes. And send Commander Data to sickbay, with all haste."

"Did I hear you correctly, sir?

"You have your orders, Number One."

"Aye, sir."

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

The elderly Admiral Jameson seated within his mobile chair, materialized on the surface. This was the man that Karnas wanted. Onlookers who'd seen Jameson in sickbay minutes ago would be confused as to how the man was no longer on the brink of death, and why he was once again elderly. But Karnas held neither of these questions.

Karnas's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took custody of the weakened admiral, unable to contain his malicious glee. The leader circled Jameson, his voice dripped with contempt. "Ah, Admiral Jameson. The great hero, finally within my grasp. I've waited a long time for this moment. Did you think you could escape the consequences of your actions? That you could simply hide away in the vastness of space?" Karnas paused, his eyes narrowing as he continued his monologue. "Your interference in our conflict all those years ago did nothing but prolong the suffering and devastation. You may have thought you were helping, but you only served to fan the flames of war. And now, here you are, a frail old man, still trying to right your wrongs."

He stepped closer to Jameson, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "But today, I finally have my revenge. I will make you pay for the years of pain you caused my people. You will experience a mere fraction of the torment you inflicted upon us."

As Karnas continued to gloat, it was clear that he relished every moment of Admiral Jameson's current predicament.

Karnas, feeling satisfied with his monologue, tapped his comms device and ordered the Federation prisoners to be released. He turned his attention back to Admiral Jameson, who sat before him with perfect posture and a composed expression on his aged face. Karnas' anger flared at the admiral's unyielding demeanor, and he decided it was time to break the man's spirit.

Without warning, Karnas grabbed a nearby hammer and slammed it down on the admiral's hand. The room was filled with the ringing of metal striking. But to Karnas' astonishment, Jameson didn't scream out in pain. Instead, his only response was a delayed, "Ouch."

Karnas stared at the admiral, baffled by his unexpected reaction. He looked down at the hammer in his hand, only to find its head dented as if it had struck something impossibly hard. Confusion and frustration washed over him, and he demanded, "What is this trickery?"

Jameson remained silent, his expression still calm and unfazed. He flexed his hand, showing no signs of injury or pain. Karnas, felt an unsettling mix of anger and suspicion, sensing a deception at play. He couldn't ignore the nagging doubt that the admiral's unexpected resilience was part of a larger ruse. Refusing to be made a fool, he tapped his comms device once again.

"Halt the release of the Federation prisoners!" he barked into the device. "Detain them and prepare for the first to be executed!"

The response from his subordinate only fueled his frustration. "Sir, the Federation prisoners have already been transported away."

Karnas clenched his fist, his face reddened with rage. He turned to face Admiral Jameson, determined to take out his anger on the man who had made a mockery of him. But before he could utter a single threat, the Admiral vanished before his eyes, transported away just like the prisoners.

Karnas stood in the now empty room as the reality of the situation settled in. He had been outmaneuvered, his plans for vengeance thwarted. He had been so close, then his prize was stolen from him. The fury that coursed through him was beyond what words could express. He would not forget the humiliation he had experienced today.

The instant Admiral Jameson materialized on the transporter pad, Captain Picard stepped forward with a welcoming smile. "Welcome back, Admiral," he said, emphasizing the rank with a hint of amusement in his voice.

However, the reply that came was not in the voice of the admiral but rather the unmistakable, partially synthesized tone of Lt. Commander Data. "Thank you, Captain. But I believe now that our ruse was successful, you should refer to me by my proper rank."

"Was that an order?" Picard joked. Noticing Data didn't get it, he continued before the android could go on a tangent. "Excellent work, Commander. Thanks to your efforts, the hostages are safe."

Picard's smile broadened as Data removed a holographic projector necklace from around his neck. The sophisticated piece of technology had been temporarily gifted to him by Tyson, and it had enabled Data to pose as Admiral Jameson just long enough for the prisoners to be rescued. As the illusion of the admiral dissipated, Data's familiar android features returned, and the crew members in the transporter room exchanged impressed glances. It was clear that the device had performed flawlessly, allowing Data to masquerade as the admiral and deceive Karnas. Data desired to promptly return the valuable piece of jewelry, but Tyson had asked that he keep it until they had a chance to speak. Something seemed to be bothering Tyson, and he'd wanted to discuss it.

Data tilted his head, replying, "I was merely fulfilling my duty, Captain. However, I must express my gratitude to Tyson for providing the necessary equipment to accomplish this mission."

With the crisis averted and the hostages rescued, they could return to their regular duties.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

After twenty-two long hours, the retrovirus finally reached a critical point in its propagation. Admiral Jameson's condition finally stabilized. With the Admiral's health no longer in immediate danger, Tyson took a well-deserved break from Sickbay. The Gamer paid an overdue visit to Lt. Commander Data's quarters. Upon reaching Data's quarters, the door swished open, revealing the android seated at a workstation, examining a complex schematic on a large viewscreen.

"Ah, Tyson," Data greeted without looking up from the screen, his voice carrying its usual synthesized tone. "I have been analyzing the equipment you allowed me to use and the reports from our recent mission. Your holographic projector proved to be an invaluable tool. I am interested in learning more about its construction and potential applications."

Tyson couldn't help but smile, "I'd be happy to discuss the projector with you, Data. It's always a pleasure to explore new ideas and their potential with someone as brilliant as yourself. But I have a more pressing issue I'd like to discuss first."

Tyson steeled himself to explain his failure to Data. "You entrusted Lore to me after he revealed his true nature. And I failed him." Tyson went on to explain his experiences in the Star Wars Universe. How he negotiated with Lore and came to a gentleman's agreement with the android. How Lore helped him defeat a superior enemy and win a battle that liberated a planet. And, how Lore betrayed him and absconded with the robot army, and Tyson was unable to stop him.

Data listened intently to Tyson's account of his experiences in the Star Wars Universe, his golden eyes displaying no emotion, yet reflecting a deep sense of understanding.

When Tyson finished his story, Data tilted his head slightly and replied, "Tyson, I appreciate your honesty and the sense of responsibility you have demonstrated. However, it is important to understand that Lore's actions are a consequence of his nature, which is characterized by his inability to adhere to ethical guidelines."

Data paused for a moment, considering his words carefully before continuing. "I entrusted Lore to you because I believed in your ability to find a solution that might benefit both him and others. Your efforts to negotiate with him, and the successes you achieved together, are commendable. Despite the eventual outcome, it is clear that you approached the situation with dedication and integrity."

"I have come to learn that one cannot control the actions of others, nor can we always predict their choices. We can only strive to make the best decisions we can, based on the information available to us at the time, and learn from our experiences to better navigate future challenges."

Tyson stood before Data, allowing the android's words to sink in. He studied Data's impassive face, the golden eyes that seemed to hold an endless depth of wisdom and understanding. A thought occurred to him, and he couldn't help but smile at the irony of it. "Data," Tyson began, his voice tinged with a sense of wonder. "You possess an extraordinary capacity for empathy and understanding. In many ways, you are more human than many of the people I have encountered in my travels."

Data regarded Tyson with a curious tilt of his head, and although his face remained expressionless, there was a hint of gratitude in his voice. "Thank you. I have devoted considerable effort to understanding and emulating human behavior. While I am aware that I will never be able to fully experience emotions or the complexities of the human condition, I find the study of humanity to be both enlightening and endlessly fascinating."

Tyson nodded, reflecting on Data's response. It was clear that the android's dedication to learning about humanity had not only allowed him to connect with others but had also shaped him into a unique individual. As he looked into Data's golden eyes, Tyson marveled at the paradox that stood before him. An artificial being, meticulously crafted and programmed to be a limited mimicry of life, who had somehow managed to capture the essence of what it meant to be human. In Data's pursuit of understanding humanity, he had inadvertently become a shining example of its most admirable qualities: compassion, integrity, and the ability to learn from life's challenges.

Tyson and Data began an in-depth conversation about the holographic projector and other innovative technologies. The collaboration between the two minds, one human and one artificial, represented the pinnacle of what humanity and its creations could achieve together.

Tyson felt a renewed sense of camaraderie and gratitude for Data's forgiveness. He decided it was time to share one of the discoveries he had made during his journey. "Data, although my mission to redeem Lore was ultimately unsuccessful, it was not without some valuable findings. Among them, I uncovered a droid laboratory that contained a remarkable substance called synthskin."

Intrigued, Data received the schematics Tyson transmitted to him and began analyzing the information. Synthskin, as Tyson explained, was a synthetic polymer-based artificial covering that closely resembled human flesh. Its texture, color, and overall appearance were nearly indistinguishable from the real thing. It even allowed full transference of sensation for processing.

"I believe," Tyson continued, "that with some modifications to your molecular synthesizers, you could potentially create synth skin for yourself. This could enable you to appear more human and 'feel' what we feel if that is something you would be interested in exploring."

Data paused, considering the implications of Tyson's proposal. The idea of appearing more human had a certain appeal to him, as it could potentially enhance his ability to blend in with his human colleagues and further his study of the human condition. However, he also recognized that his unique appearance as an android held a certain value as well by making him unique.

"Your suggestion is intriguing, Tyson," Data responded thoughtfully. "The possibility of appearing more human could present new opportunities for understanding and experiencing human culture. I appreciate the effort you have taken to share this discovery with me. I will give it serious consideration and discuss it with my fellow crew members and Captain Picard to determine the most appropriate course of action."

Tyson nodded, satisfied that he had been able to provide Data with a potentially valuable opportunity for growth. Regardless of whether the android ultimately chose to adopt the synth skin or not, Tyson felt that sharing this technology with Data somewhat made up for his losing the man's 'brother'.

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Tyson stood aboard the Scimitar, still docked within the Enterprise's shuttlebay, with T'Pol at his side. The Vulcan woman's presence was calming, he turned to her and asked, "T'Pol, would you like to join me on Korriban? I believe it could be an enlightening experience."

T'Pol considered the offer for a moment, her expression one of Vulcan curiosity, otherwise known as a single eyebrow raise. "I am always open to expanding my knowledge and understanding of the universe, and accompanying you wherever you lead, Tyson."

Tyson considered her unusual response as he led T'Pol to the holodeck. As they stepped into the simulation, the darkness of the planet enveloped them, its oppressive atmosphere unmistakable. T'Pol, who had never before experienced the Force at this scale, suddenly found herself overwhelmed by its presence. The dark energy of Korriban seemed to wrap around her like a tangible, oppressive force. Confused and disoriented by the unfamiliar sensations, she looked to Tyson for guidance.

Tyson, recognizing T'Pol's distress, offered her reassurance. "It's alright, T'Pol. What you're feeling is the Force, an energy field that permeates the universe. Korriban is a place where the Dark Side of the Force is particularly strong. Try to focus on your thoughts and emotions, and maintain your mental balance. You can use your Vulcan discipline and meditation techniques to help you navigate these new sensations."

Grateful for Tyson's support, T'Pol followed his advice and began to center herself. She'd had a clinical understanding of how Tyson sensed the Force, thanks to his and Visas's descriptions. But feeling the uncomfortable miasma of the Dark Side herself was something she was unprepared for. She used her knowledge of Vulcan mental disciplines to regain control over her emotions and maintain her equilibrium. As she did so, the darkness of Korriban became more manageable, and she was able to focus on the experience at hand.

The air felt heavy as Tyson, T'Pol, and Visas Marr stood before the Altar of Sacrifice. Tyson began to recount the story of the 'Heart of Naboo' and the immense transformation that had occurred when he sacrificed it at the altar. T'Pol listened intently, her eyes betrayed a hint of fascination. "But why did you not sacrifice the plants with healing properties that we harvested on Haven?" T'Pol inquired.

Tyson hesitated, realizing he hadn't considered that option. He couldn't provide a satisfactory answer to T'Pol's question. Determined to investigate further, he activated the interface to the Altar of Sacrifice, examining the Alignment and Facilities options available. They discovered that while grouped in a party, the others could see all the options and information as well and he didn't have to give a full accounting.

The interface hummed to life, displaying a complex array of information about the potential consequences of various sacrifices. As Tyson delved deeper into the system with T'Pol and Visas, they discussed the various options and consequences.

Alignment.
Current Alignment: -10 Dark Side Saturated.
Current Presence: +6 (Visas Marr: 3, T'Pol: 4, Tyson: -1).

T'Pol's keen eyes scanned the interface, noting Tyson's alignment leaned just past the neutral point towards the Dark Side. Curiosity piqued, she asked, "Why do you think your alignment leans toward the Dark Side, while mine sits firmly in the opposite direction?"

Tyson paused, pondering her question, before reluctantly answering. "I utilize the Force as a tool, controlling it to achieve specific outcomes. Manipulating the Force in such a way is considered an aspect of the Dark Side, as it opposes the idea of submitting oneself to the Will of the Force." He sighed, his thoughts drifting to the numerous battles he'd fought. "Moreover, in combat situations, I have drawn upon the Dark Side to enhance my strength. Though recently I've made progress in enhancing myself without drawing upon negative emotions."

Despite these tendencies, Tyson's actions generally reflected an altruistic nature. He'd been known to help those in need and worked toward the greater good. However, he acknowledged that often his actions were driven by selfish desires.

"T'Pol, you possess a strong dedication to logic and emotional control. That approach keeps you relatively neutral in most situations and allows you to resist the temptation of the Dark Side. Your focus on maintaining an inner equilibrium reflects Light Side principles. Additionally, your actions and decisions generally align with the greater good."

Tyson then turned to Visas, the Miraluka who had once served the Dark Side but had found redemption. "Visas, you may have expected your alignment to be the opposite. Your dedication to understanding the Force and its guidance, as well as your commitment to aiding others, has led you to embrace the Light Side. You never sought to harm others, and only did so under the commands of your former master."

As Tyson finished his explanation, T'Pol and Visas exchanged a glance. T'Pol regarded Tyson with a thoughtful expression, absorbing his words and recognizing the complexity of the Force. It was clear that the line between the Light and Dark Sides was not always distinct, and that a deeper understanding would require further exploration.

Power Source: Heart of Naboo (Legendary).
Unlocked Facilities:
Courtyard: A foreboding courtyard that serves as the first introduction to the Sith Academy, adorned with menacing statues of powerful Sith Lords from the past. The Centerpiece is the Alter of Sacrifice.
Entrance Hall: The grand entrance to the Sith Academy, which includes the Dining Hall, the Academy Kitchens, and access to the Lord's Tower.
Corridors of Whispers: Dimly lit hallways connecting various areas of the Sith Academy where the whispers of tormented spirits linger, creating an unsettling atmosphere. The halls echo with ghostly laughter and spectral Sith wandering endlessly in a twisted mockery of life.
The Everexpanding Residences: A series of dormitories outside the Sith Academy that grows to meet the needs of the people you bring to Korriban. The residences can grow to be the size of a town, city, or even ecumenopolis in the vein of Coruscant.

Unlock Facilities.
Archives of Forbidden Knowledge.
1. Sacrifice a Rare or higher quality item of knowledge.
2. Obtain a follower, companion, or employee to function as a librarian (Complete).
The Foundry.
1. Sacrifice an industrial replicator (Complete).
2. Sacrifice equipment used in the construction of droids, androids, robots, weapons, or vehicles.
3. Possess or obtain a companion or follower that possesses an Engineering or Computers skill of 20 or greater (Complete).
Undercaverns.
1. Sacrifice a rare crystal, gem, or stone (Complete).
2. Sacrifice a rare mineral or ore.
Veiled Arboretum.
1. Sacrifice a plant with special properties.
2. Possess or obtain a companion or follower that possesses a Life Science skill of 20 or greater (Complete).
Lazarus Pavillion.
1. Sacrifice an advanced piece of healing equipment.
2. Unlock the Menagerie, Artificer's Workshop, Veiled Arboretum, or Sacrifice a Rare or higher quality item related to Sith Alchemy or Sith Sorcery.
3. Possess or obtain a companion or follower that possesses a Medicine, Sith Alchemy, Sith Sorcery, or Life Science skill of 20 or greater (Complete).

Tyson decided to heed T'Pol's question and sacrificed one of the plants they had collected from Haven, hoping it would meet the requirements to unlock the Veiled Arboretum facility. As he completed the process, a greenhouse-like structure began materializing in the distance. Its architecture was an intriguing aesthetic, appearing as a structure that matched the main building of the Sith Academy but possessed an untamed quality that was difficult to quantify.

Sacrifice Accepted (Haven Flora - Solacebud flower).
1. Veiled Arboretum Requirement Complete: Sacrifice a plant with special properties.
2. Veiled Arboretum Unlocked.
3. Solacebud flower added to Veiled Arboretum.
4. Lazarus Pavillion Requirement Complete: Unlock the Menagerie, Artificer's Workshop, Veiled Arboretum, or Sacrifice a Rare or higher quality item related to Sith Alchemy or Sith Sorcery.
5. Solacebud flower will grow in appropriate environments across Korriban (Note: No appropriate environments currently exist on Korriban).

Facility Unlocked!
Veiled Arboretum.
A twisted, dark garden filled with exotic and dangerous plants, some of which can be used for medicinal purposes, while others are deadly and used as a source of deadly ingredients for potions and poisons.

T'Pol noted the received prompt. Observing the desolate landscape surrounding them, she commented, "The environment of Korriban is harsh and unforgiving," she remarked. "Few plants would be able to grow and survive here."

Tyson sighed, acknowledging the truth in T'Pol's words. He tried to focus on the positive aspect of their accomplishment but was left wondering what he'd have to sacrifice to terraform a planet. As the group stepped into the Veiled Arboretum, they were met with a sight of pure potential. Seedlings of the Solacebuds were scattered about the area, their delicate stems reaching for the light in anticipation of blossoming into their full glory. The layout of the arboretum hinted at a future botanical paradise, a living masterpiece of verdant splendor yet to be realized. The intricate arrangement of the seedlings, alongside the carefully designed pathways and structures, created an atmosphere of serenity and enchantment. One could easily imagine the garden teeming with life, offering sanctuary and reprieve to any who entered its embrace.

With a renewed sense of curiosity, the group ventured back to the Altar of Sacrifice. In Tyson's hand, he held an acorn from the Havenwood, a tree with remarkable healing properties they had discovered on Haven. The acorn was a symbol of life and potential, a fitting offering for their purpose. Tyson placed the small seed onto the sacrificial platform and initiated the ritual. As the sacrifice took place, the group could feel the essence of the acorn being absorbed by the Altar, the energy weaving itself into the very fabric of the planet. A sense of wonder and anticipation washed over them through the Force. Across the landscape of Korriban, seeds from the Havenwood tree began to spread, settling into the ground, and waiting for the right conditions to sprout. However, they lay dormant, biding their time until the climate of Korriban could support their growth. Korriban held within it the seeds of a new beginning, a promise of healing and rejuvenation for a time when the planet was ready to embrace it.

Sacrifice Accepted (Haven Flora - Havenwood).
1. Havenwood added to Veiled Arboretum.
2. Havenwood trees will grow in appropriate environments across Korriban (Note: No appropriate environments exist on Korriban, additional sacrifices are required).

The group set their sights on the Foundry, eager to unleash the potential within the Sith Academy. Tyson gathered the advanced equipment he had procured from Soong's lab, including the molecular synthesizer, biofluid pod, neural incubator, and holomatrix programming station. Determined to make the most of the opportunity, he also brought all the equipment from the droid maintenance lab he had salvaged from the C-9979.

Tyson approached the Altar of Sacrifice once more. With the size of the equipment he was about to sacrifice, the Gamer opted to use the Interface instead of placing them on the Altar itself. Using the Interface, he chose the equipment for sacrifice. As the ritual commenced, the essence of the sacrificed equipment infused itself into the very heart of the Academy. Within its ancient halls, the Foundry began to take shape, melding seamlessly with the existing structure. The advanced technology from Soong's lab and the C-9979 integrated itself into the workshop, creating a space where the potential for innovation and creation knew no bounds.

Sacrifice Accepted (Droid Manufacturing and Maintenance equipment, Soong-Type Android Manufacturing and Maintenance equipment).
1. Foundry Requirement Complete: Sacrifice equipment used in the construction of droids, androids, robots, weapons, or vehicles.
2. Foundry Unlocked.
3. Sacrificed Equipment added to the Foundry.

Facility Unlocked!
The Foundry.
A vast workshop filled with equipment regarding automatons, droids, and other mechanical constructs, where students can hone their skills in engineering, robotics, and artificial intelligence.

The group ventured through the Corridors of Whispers, finding themselves surrounded by an intriguing fusion of ancient Sith and modern Federation architecture. The walls bore signs of the Industrial Replicator's influence, yet the original, sinister craftsmanship of the Sith still dominated the atmosphere. Modern Federation lighting technology cast down on the ancient, intricate carvings that adorned the walls, blending the past and present in a strangely harmonious way. The air was heavy with an aura of darkness, palpable even to those without the ability to perceive it through the Force. Tyson and Visas, with their Force Sight, could see the shadows of the Dark Side clinging to every surface, tendrils of malevolence snaking through the air. T'Pol lacked that ability but could not help but feel a subtle but pervasive unease as they progressed deeper into the corridor. The whispers of tormented spirits were fainter than Tyson had originally sensed as if the modern technology had partially stifled their haunting cries. Yet, the group could still feel the weight of unseen eyes upon them. The unsettling sensation urged them onward, making them eager to leave the halls and reach their destination within the Sith Academy.

As they rounded a corner, they came upon a spectral figure, a ghostly remnant of a long-dead Sith Apprentice. It was draped in tattered, ethereal robes that seemed to hang from its emaciated frame like a shroud, and its eyes were hollow, haunted pits that bore into the darkness. The apparition seemed oblivious to the presence of the group, its gaze fixed on something unseen and far beyond the reach of the living. It moved slowly as if weighed down by the heavy burden of its existence, its feet floating just above the ground. The specter's presence only added to the oppressive atmosphere of the corridor, serving as a chilling reminder of the countless souls trapped within the Sith Academy's walls. The darkness that surrounded it seemed to cling to the spectral Sith like a second skin, a tangible manifestation of the evil that had consumed it in life.

The group exchanged uneasy glances, instinctively stepping back as the figure drifted closer. Yet the spectral Sith remained unaware of their presence, continuing its eerie march through the corridor, lost in its torment. Silently, the group watched the ghostly figure disappear around the next bend, the cold air swirling in its wake. They could not shake the haunting image of the trapped soul, a grim reminder of the darkness that still lingered within the Sith Academy, just beneath the surface of the modern Federation influence.

Emerging from the oppressive Corridor of Whispers, the group finally arrived at the Foundry. The atmosphere changed dramatically as they stepped into the vast space. The Foundry was a promise of innovation and discovery, a space was filled with cutting-edge machinery and tools designed for the creation and maintenance of technology. As they explored the workshop, the group marveled at the array of advanced equipment that was integrated seamlessly into the ancient structure of the Sith Academy. Tyson's eyes widened in delight as he spotted the equipment he had sacrificed, now seamlessly integrated into the workshop. His treasured industrial replicator stood proudly among the array of advanced devices, beckoning him to put it to use. It was a place where Tyson could bring his most ambitious engineering dreams to life. As he took in the workshop's boundless possibilities, Tyson couldn't help but smile. Here, within these walls, he had access to everything he needed to create, and thanks to the Heart of Naboo, he wouldn't need to spend a single Energy Credit. The only remaining barrier between him and his aspirations was time. A small price to pay for the limitless potential that lay before him, but an obstacle nonetheless. Tyson dove straight in, having the neural incubator begin creating a new positronic brain and laying the foundations for a new Soong-type android.

T'Pol and Visas, while not as visibly enthusiastic as Tyson, could not help but appreciate the stark contrast between the grim corridors they had left behind and the hopeful atmosphere that pervaded the workshop. The spirit of innovation that Tyson embodied seemed to push back against the darkness that had haunted the Academy.

In a short period, Tyson was able to automate most of the android creation processes, only requiring his occasional check-in to ensure proper construction. With all the available equipment it would only take ten days to create the basic form, with a few hours to an additional day required for adjusting the frame to fine-tune the appearance.

Having made significant strides in their exploration and the development of the facilities, Tyson felt a sense of accomplishment wash over him. Deciding it was time to retreat from their endeavors and enjoy some well-deserved relaxation, he turned to his companions with a warm smile.

"Let's return to the Lord's Tower," he suggested, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "We've earned a break."

~~Star Trek: TNG~~
Interlude - T'Pol & Visas

T'Pol stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the arid Korriban landscape, lost in her thoughts. Tyson slept peacefully after their shared lovemaking; the Gamer rarely slept, so the women were careful to not disturb him. Visas approached her quietly, her steps graceful yet purposeful. As Visas neared, T'Pol turned her attention to the Miraluka. Visas could sense the inner turmoil within T'Pol, the subtle waves of uncertainty that radiated from her.

Visas spoke softly, her voice carrying a soothing tone. "T'Pol, I sense that something troubles you. May I be of assistance?"

T'Pol's gaze lingered on Visas for a moment before she averted her eyes, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I find myself grappling with reservations, Visas. This place, the sensation of the Dark Side, is unlike anything I have encountered before. I can sense its presence, its power, but I lack any references beyond what I feel. It is unsettling."

Visas nodded, her eyes reflecting understanding. "The Dark Side of the Force can be overwhelming, especially to those who are new to its influence. It is natural to feel uncertainty or discomfort when faced with its power. However, know that you are not alone in navigating these sensations. I know the allure of the Dark Side well and will help you resist its temptation, you need only ask."

T'Pol's brow furrowed slightly as she continued, her voice steady yet tinged with a touch of frustration. "It is not just the feeling of the Dark Side. I'm troubled because I have noticed a recurring pattern within our group dynamic. I often find myself left behind or excluded from critical decision-making processes. It is disconcerting to be relegated to a position of lesser importance."

Visas nodded empathetically, "I can understand your concerns, T'Pol. It is important to feel valued and included within the group and to have your contributions acknowledged. Our journeys have been marked by challenges, and your unique insights and expertise should be given the recognition they deserve."

T'Pol sighed softly, her shoulders relaxing as she sensed Visas's genuine understanding. "I appreciate your words, Visas. It is reassuring to know that I am not alone in these reservations."

Visas offered a gentle smile, her eyes conveying a sense of solidarity. "Indeed, T'Pol. We stand united in our quest for balance. Let us embrace both our reservations and our strengths, finding harmony amid uncertainty." Visas, sensing that T'Pol had more to share, gently inquired, "Is there anything else on your mind, T'Pol? I am here to listen."

T'Pol hesitated for a moment before continuing. "There is something that weighs heavily on me, Visas. In the world I come from I was a member of another ship called Enterprise. Captain Archer and his crew, my former colleagues, embarked on a critical mission to save Earth from the Xindi threat. The Xindi made a devastating attack against Earth, and it became our collective goal to prevent further harm, and my personal goal to improve the strained relations between Earth and Vulcan." She paused, her gaze fixed on a distant point, on the horizon, as if lost in memories. "I dedicated myself to this cause, to find a way to protect both our worlds. But I am left wondering what transpired in my absence. Did they succeed in their mission? Has the Enterprise succeeded? Did they unite with Vulcan into a Federation, or did relationships fall apart without my presence?"

Visas listened attentively, her expression reflecting both empathy and curiosity. "The desire to know the fate of your world, your comrades, is understandable. The journey we undertake now may hold the answers you seek. As we face new challenges together, we may uncover the paths that our respective universes followed."

T'Pol nodded, her eyes reflected a longing for closure. "Indeed, Visas. I too wish to believe our journey holds the potential to shed light on the paths our worlds have taken."

Visas lowered her gaze, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "T'Pol, I fear that my former master, Nihilus, is still out there somewhere. He is a wound in the Force, consuming all life in his path. I can sense his presence, his hunger. I know not where he is, or when he will come, but I fear the day he confronts us. He sent me for Tyson and one day he will seek us out."

T'Pol's brows furrowed with concern as she listened to Visas's admission. The weight of the impending threat was palpable, and she understood the depth of Visas's anxiety. She reached out a hand, placing it gently on Visas's arm, offering a gesture of support.

T'Pol responded, "The threat you describe, your former master, is indeed a grave one. The consequences of such a powerful and destructive being seeking out Tyson could be problematic." She paused, contemplating the implications of this looming danger. "While I have yet to experience the full extent of the Force and its workings, after being exposed to Korriban, I understand the potential for great darkness that can arise from it. Your presence here, alongside us defying your master, shows your strength and resilience." T'Pol's gaze locked on Visas, "We must prepare for whatever challenges lie ahead. Together, we can face this threat. The lessons I have learned in my journey tell me that unity and resourcefulness are key to overcoming even the most formidable adversaries."

Visas nodded her expression was a mix of determination and gratitude. "Thank you, T'Pol. Your words give me hope. Your understanding means more to me than you can imagine. With our combined strengths and the support of our allies, we can confront the darkness that awaits us."

~~Star Trek: TNG~~

Tyson lay in the comfort of the Lord's suite, his body still tingling from the sensations of being with T'Pol and Visas. He succumbed to a blissful sleep. But even in his slumber, his heightened senses remained attuned to the world around him.

A hushed conversation caught the attention of Tyson's Vulcan hearing. The familiar voices of T'Pol and Visas intertwined in the air. With practiced control, he suppressed his Force Presence and kept his breathing steady, ensuring his presence would not disturb their conversation. He listened intently to their shared concerns, their worries laid bare.

T'Pol's discomfort in the presence of the ever-looming shadow of the Dark Side, her first experience with the Force, and the unknown it presented. And her worries for the Earth and Vulcan she left behind. Tyson hadn't put much thought into those concerns. Perhaps he'd fallen into the trap of believing that Vulcans didn't have feelings… beyond the ones he could coax out of her during their intimate times.

Visas's apprehension about the looming threat of Darth Nihilus sent a chill down Tyson's spine. The mere mention of the insatiable hunger that consumed all life struck a chord within him. He knew the dangers that awaited them, the darkness that Nihilus represented, and the path that led to Visas's death.

As their conversation drew to a close, a silence settled over the room. Tyson's mind whirled with thoughts and possibilities. He pondered the significance of their concerns and the impact they could have on their journey. What could he do to alleviate T'Pol's discomfort, to offer her support? And how could he prepare his allies for the inevitable confrontation with Darth Nihilus?

In the stillness of the suite, Tyson found himself searching for answers by delving through his knowledge of the mysterious Sith Lord. Nihilus was an iconic villain, so Tyson remembered much of his story. He could be defeated by sacrificing Visas - that wasn't an option. He would do anything to keep Visas safe. Meetra Surek was able to defeat him by offering herself, but she was a wound in the force, like Nihilus, and doing so weakened the Sith Lord. Visas could pull on the Force Bond she shared with Nihilus, but Tyson didn't want to risk her like that. He knew that he could not protect them from every danger, but he would do everything in his power to shield his companions from the looming threats that awaited them. He was a Force Vergence. That property would protect him from Nihilus's life siphon, but it would protect him alone. His companions would be vulnerable. Force Vergence would provide defense against the Sith Lord, but would help to defeat him? Or would it feed into Nihilus's strength?

AN: Reviews are appreciated, I read them all and consider all feedback for future writing.

Shoutout to Reviewer AP for pointing out a deficit in the story that I'll strive to remedy going forward. This chapter's interlude was greatly enhanced by his suggestion.

Lemons: Few reviews say too many lemons. None here and there aren't any for several episodes going forward. Feel like I should write some just to troll. JK. maybe.

Tyson.
Title: Ensign, Padawan, System Lord, Cultist.

Race: Human Hybrid.
Level: 12 (129,500/397,000)

Energy Credits: 328,120,603.

Hit Points: 810/810.
Force Points: 2 + (Use the Force skill/5)*2 + Wisdom Modifier (6*2) = 21/34.

Strength: 28.
Dexterity: 17.
Constitution: 27.
Intelligence: 20.
Wisdom: 23.
Charisma: 16.

Armor: Reflex: 10+12+3=25.
Fortitude: 10+12+8+5=35.
Will: 10+12+6=28 (43 v Force).

Luck: 2.

Unspent Attribute Points: 2.

Traits: Vulcan Senses, Strength, Metabolism.
Half-Betazoid Sense.
Klingon Constitution.
Gaze Sense, Dream Visions.
Gills, Nonliving, Hard to Injure.
Sneaky, Deceptive, Longevity (1200 yrs.).
Demand Surrender.

Status Effects:
'Telepathic Bond (T'Pol)'
'Force Bond (Arren Kae, Visas Marr)'

Skills: Observe: Lvl 13.
Meditation: Lvl 2.
Engineering: Lvl 38.
Computers: Lvl 39.
Physical Science: Lvl 31.
Martial Arts: Lvl 32.
Athletics: Lvl 20.
Medicine: Lvl 36.
Social: Lvl 35.
Cooking: Lvl 32.
Energy Weapons: Lvl 18.
Melee Weapons: Lvl 20.
Stealth: Lvl 21.
Perform: Lvl 21.
Thievery: Lvl 3.
Use The Force: Lvl 50.
Lightsabers: Lvl 18.
Piloting: Lvl 2.
Life Science: Lvl 35.

Force Powers:
Sense Force, Force Sight.
Art of the Small, Mind Trick, Prescience.
Force Resistance.
Telekinesis.
Battle Strike.
Dark Rage, Sith Alchemy.

Lightsaber Technique:
Forms: Shii-Cho, Trakata.
Talents: Block, Deflect, Double Attack, Multiattack Proficiency (2).

Cultists Powers: Domains - (0/3 Selected).
Powers - Companion Channeling, Answer Prayer.
Followers - 9.

Language Skills:
Cetacean: Lvl 5.
Klingon: Lvl 2.
Vulcan: Lvl 5.
Ligonian: Lvl 5.
Huttese: Lvl 4.
Binary: Lvl 2.

Perks:
'Out of Nowhere'
'The Anti-Worf Effect'
'Universal Translator'
'Culinary Visualization'
'Your Hands Clean'
'Grand Theft Starship'
'Spreading Love'
'Power Eater'
'Apt Pupil'
'Master with your Hands'
'Binding Foods'
'Direct Control Disruption'
'Aesthetic Damage'
'Speedy Promotions'
'Legendary Thief'
'Force Vergence'
'Duel of the Fates'
'Cultic Beginnings'
'Plague Doctor'

Drawbacks:
'Q and U'
'Hunted by the Light and Dark'

Systems:
Korriban.