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Birth of the Federation, an AAR, Part 8

CHAPTER 8: STILL WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE

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As space has nothing BUT time while it passes…time, it’s been a while since the last AAR. Technically, I’ve been busy, but untechnically, I’ve been touring our newest colonies. MURICA. I mean, uhh, FEDER…uh…FEDERMURICA.

So anyway, let’s take a look at where we’re at right now. Shall we? Yes, let’s.

 

BOTF-8-001

Here’s our slice of the galaxy. We’ve explored…well, not much. Humans are lazy! I should start popping pills into their synthe-tribble ribs to make them move faster. Then again, we can only move as fast as my little Troop Transports and Colony Ships can carry my children. (I know I’m totally working up some delusions of grandeur, but when you technically have total control over an entire empire…well, stuff happens.)

BOTF-8-002

I’ve put some more Troop Transports into the mix to try to expand my borders, as my NX-science cruisers (with silly names) are waiting at the edge of known space, chomping at the bit to head out and get lost or blown up and stuff. I don’t know. So far we’ve not seen anything other than some nice, fat planets waiting for human exploitation, and I’m gonna take advantage of that just as soon as I can sign the contracts and get some kickba…err, I mean, give approvals to the right shipbuilding contracts. Ahem.

And just as the ink is drying on one contract I signed with a megalomaniacal leader of Sol’s leading software based on a part of a house that slides open and shut and has curtains framing it (cough), the scientists barge in again, excitedly waving papers around. They hesitate this time at least, wondering if I’m in the middle of some Turkish bath orgy.

Hmm, note to self…measure this side of the office for a Turkish bath.

 

BOTF-8-003

Yep, there it is in green and black: “LINGUISTIC INTERFACING. Linguistic interfacing allows computers to communicate with their users in natural language. This advance allows fleet officers to reprogram starship computers at need, without extensive training in computer programming.”

I smile wickedly, and tear up the contracts in front of the floating head of said megalomaniacal leader. So much for needing your tech geeks, sir. I can now TALK to my computer to tell it what I want. Think of how amazing it will be for me to be able to tell my computer to surf for por…uh…porrrk stock…rrrreports. Yeah, that’s it. Stock Reports with…pork. What? A galactic leader can’t have investment interests?

Uhh…hey, look over there! At that!

 

BOTF-8-004

Yep, that breakthrough in Computers lets me queue up the Federation’s first Constitution-class ship! Well…okay, I know, class ships are named after the first one. Oh, Gods help me. Given the penchant for Starfleet’s naming board to come up with ship names idolizing serial killers, molesters, and general obscurity, I’m REALLY not looking forward to this day. The date appears in my calendar. Four turns to go. Oh, give me strength…

 

BOTF-8-005

I’ve gone and told the eggheads to put all their brains into the Biotech basket. As my worlds soar in population, food becomes more of a priority, and as we expand, we’re going to need an economy. So, we need people eating and not starving to death. This isn’t the desert, this is freakin’ Federation, baby! We’ve moved to where the food is! This should mean an upgrade to my Automated Farms, which means less pop needed to get more food, and therefore more bodies to work in industry.

 

BOTF-8-006

So here we stand: Sol, plus six other systems colonized. Only two, Sarona and Tohvun, are getting up there in population – and these two are ones I’ll need to keep an eye on, because pop can quickly outgrow food production, bringing queues to a halt as you scramble to buy Farms to fulfill the need for eating. Note to self: Soylent Green…fiction or delicious possibility? Those bodies aren’t going to just rot in the ground, are they? What a waste.

 

I’ve got some research to do…my advisors suggest some historical vids, such as ‘Cannibals From Primus XI’ and ‘Starvation or Joe’s Leg?’ I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll grab some synthe-popcorn and get to work. Until next time.


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