I was reading the TV Tropes wiki the other day, and got inspired. This is pretty much all there's going to be of this one. Enjoy.
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I can feel it coming in the air as I walk - a wash of power building behind me - my theme music finally cueing up. The wave crests, and crashes into me. It's the opening strains of O Fortuna. Not just generic Latin music. Not even just something *inspired* by O Fortuna. The real thing. I *am* the local definition of badass. The doors to the Council Hall explode inward at my approach, and I stride through.
The council goes dead silent at my entrance. I address them
"Greetings, Councillors. Fear me. The largest and most powerful army in the history of this place has assembled beneath my banner, and stands outside your gates, and they don't even matter. If I wanted to, I could crush you all myself. I will be leaving in an hour. Understand that every single one of you still alive at the end of that hour wil be alive because I *let* you live. I'm not talking about your lands, your people, your soldiers, your assistants, or your families. I'm talking about *you*. You have no allies left to sacrifice. You have no power left to defend yourself with. You have no place left to run. I *own* you - and you will *obey*. Do I make myself clear?"
...and then a kid with an oversized sword and spiky hair leaps down from the upper balconies and lands in a dramatic crouch.
"You say you can crush us all, Darklord? Fine. I'll call you on that. Leave the council out of it. Face me, instead."
My background music swells to meet him, and I realize what's happening. I drop my head into my hands and groan. I should have seen it coming. I *really* should have seen it coming.
The kid gets annoyed at my reaction. "What? Don't you take me seriously enough to defend youself? Should I run you through right now?"
The kid is close to losing it. I look up at him, dead calm. "Kid, stop. You fighting me, right now, like this, would be bad for both of us, no matter who wins. Seriously bad. Can you hold off on the rage long enough to hear why?"
The kid is a little shaken by my utter failure to follow the script. He nods. That's good. Worst case scenario, even if he *does* decide to attack me, the further we are from the script, the more chance I have to live.
"Okay. say we get into a fight. I'm a nearly omnipotent lord of darkness. You're a heroic kid who's done enough fighting to pretty much know which end of his weapon has the hurty bits on it. At this point, it's about even odds on which one of us will win. With me so far?"
The kid nods, looking cocky.
"Now, if you win, chances are you kill me. After all, by now I'm steeped enough in dark magic that you're going to have to defeat me more than once. Each time you win, I'll be transformed into an ever more powerful and grotesque form, with my final form remaining totally combat-capable right up until I explode. Not much room for a nonlethal disable. Anyway, I die. I lose control of the horde outside the gates, and they start rampaging. New leaders of the Dark rise up from the chaos in short order. Worst case scenario, they overwhelm this last Bastion, killing every living thing within the walls, and the light goes out of the world. That's bad. We can agree that that's bad, right?"
The kid nods, looking a bit concerned.
"Okay. Best case scenario, you, with or without allies, head out the gates to take on pretty much the entire world. It has to be you, because by this point the Powers of the Light are so badly behind that the only way to make up for it is to ride the drama - and by killing me you pretty much ensure that you're the one with the drama behind him. Your life becomes a hell of misery and constant battle. Eventually, after a sereis of ever more gruesome and depressing adventures, in which your allies, if you have any, sacrifice themselves one by one so that you can continue on, you manage to destroy pretty much every focus of Dark power in the world, and return here - only to find that everyone's starved to death, because there's no way they can grow enough food in this place to feed everyone, and there's no way that anyone can kill off the hordes outside fast enough to make farming outside the walls feasible. If you are ridiculously lucky, there might still a handful of humanity left somewhere, with whom you can rebuild the race. Otherwise, you die unloved, friendless, and alone. We can agree that that's *also* bad, right?
The kid nods, looking a bit disturbed.
"Right. Now, on the other side, if I beat you and let you live, you're going to keep coming back after me, growing stronger every time until you finally, inevitably, manage to defeat me, and kill me. I personally don't like those odds. I promise you, if we fight, and I win, you will die. The problem, though, is that that makes you an *origin* *story* - and I don't know for *who*. Fortunately for me, these things take time, but that just means that I've got a few extra years before my, remember this word, *inevitable* demise. Even more fortunately for me, however, I have a way to stall it a bit. I can *KILL EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER LOVED YOU*. And then I can kill everyone who has ever loved *them*, and everyone who has ever loved *them*, and knock off anyone who manages to retroactively develop feelings for any of my victims in the meantime, until finally, some day, I slip up, and fail to kill someone, and they bring about the previously mentioned inevitable demise. That's *BAD*, right? We can agree that that's *BAD*, can't we?"
The kid nods, looking traumatized.
"Or, we can go with Option B. I have a plan on how everything can work out reasonably well for everyone. I explain my plan. If you agree, and you let me threaten the council until they agree, then we smile, and shake hands, and walk out, if not friends, at least acquaintances on good terms. Nobody has to turn into a horrible monster and explode. Nobody has to doom their friends and extended family to being hunted down and slaughtered. Nobody has to die. Personally, I'm pretty fond of option B in this case. How about you?"

G'day folks!
This is the story fragment that prompted the commission picture I got done up recently. Read and enjoy - and comment, of course.
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&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Well, I'm hardly an expert," Psyche turned the small circuit card over in her fingers for a moment, examining it. "I've seen some Rikti technology, yes, but if you want to know if this really is some of their tech, you'd be better off asking Positron for his opinion. He's the technology wizard." She handed it back to the red and silver armoured hero, cocking an eyebrow curiously.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp " I had thought of that," MechaDeuce nodded hesitantly, and Psyche caught a fragment of a related thought.
[Should I mention it to her or not? I don't want to alarm her. ]
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Mention what to me?" Psyche cocked her head at him, hiding a smile at the way he started. "Come on," she prodded, "I'm psychic, remember? You had to have some other reason for bringing this to me specifically."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Smart as well as beautiful," MechaDeuce's tone of voice was hard to pin down because of the electronic modulation from his suit, but Psyche was willing to bet he was grinning. "All right, I brought it to you because everything they've stolen in the last week has been some kind of technology that is very specifically targeted at affecting psychic powers, and a lot of that has been reclaimed Rikti tech. When I found this, I found some records they'd tried to destroy and the records were all about you."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Why don't you just come out and say that you think they're going to try and kill me?" Psyche's voice was dry, and she gave him a small smile. "Thanks for the concern, but I think I can handle a few Freaks."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Oh?" MechaDeuce's helmet tilted in a manner suggesting a sidelong glance at her. "I take it you can hear their thoughts before they get close enough to do anything?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Something like that," Psyche nodded. "They aren't exactly subtle it might have something to do with being covered in old car parts, but I could be wrong."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I see," MechaDeuce was silent for a moment. "What if they've found a way to get around that?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Not likely," Psyche snorted delicately. "That would take somebody with intelligence and discipline the intelligence to see why they'd need to do, and the discipline to actually follow-through on some kind of a plan. Those are both attributes I've never heard any of the Freaks be accused of."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "What about Clamor?" MechaDeuce asked mildly. "She certainly had both." Psyche shot him a narrow glance.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "All right, but Clamor was an exception," she allowed. "Most of the Freakshow are nothing more than angry punks running around with power tools."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "True," his helmet nodded in agreement. "But there might be somebody new on the scene, somebody able to move beyond that limitation."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I guess anything's possible," she shrugged. "Don't you think you're overreacting a little? I mean, I appreciate the concern, but..."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I take it that you can read my mind right now?" The question caught Psyche flatfooted, and she blinked at the sudden shift the conversation had taken.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "What does that have to do anything?" She frowned at him. "I can sense everyone's thoughts to some degree, but I don't run around reading people's minds, thank you very much. That's an invasion of privacy, not to mention unethical." She didn't bother to mention that she didn't really like actively reading minds she got enough 'noise' from everyone around her that she certainly didn't need to probe directly to know what they were thinking.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I know that," MechaDeuce nodded again. "With your permission, I'd like to try something." When she nodded curiously, MechaDeuce opened a panel in the chestplate of his armour and inserted the circuit card as Psyche watched. He closed the compartment, and the blue glow from the lens in the center of his chest armour brightened. At the same time, the background hum from his armour suit began to rise in pitch.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "All right can you sense anything now?" the resonant electronic voice asked. Psyche opened her mouth to reply... ..and then he disappeared.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It was like suddenly going deaf, or having your eardrums pop from a sudden change in air pressure. The shift was so abrupt that it bordered on being physically painful. Psyche could still see the armoured figure in front of her he hadn't moved since slotting in the circuit card but every trace of his mind was gone as if removed by a giant chalkboard eraser. In fact...
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Shut it off," Psyche's hands flew to the sides of her head, her eyes widening as she suddenly realized she couldn't "hear" anybody's thoughts anymore. Deafening silence seemed to be crushing down on her suddenly, and panic fluttered like a caged bird in her chest. "Stop it!! Shut it OFF!!!!"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Sorry." The blue glow faded a bit, and MechaDeuce pulled out the circuit card.
[I was right, damn it...] The thought echoed ominously.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yes, you were right," Psyche's mouth was dry as she tried to get her pulse back under control. In the back of her mind, the familiar babble of a myriad of different minds had re-established itself. She took a deep breath and tried to force herself to relax. "So you're telling me the Freakshow has a psychic cloaking device?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Something like that," he nodded, then handed her the circuit card. "You'd better get Positron to look that over and see if he can find a way to either jam or circumvent it." The red-and-silver battle suit stepped back from her and bowed formally. "Thank you very much for taking the time to talk to me; I really appreciate it."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Wait a second, what...where the hell are you going?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Hunting," MechaDeuce's voice was flat. Dust swirled around him on the pavement as he began to lift into the air, the glow from his helmet visor and chest lens brightening to a steady blue-white burn. "I now know who, how, and why, but I don't know where or when. Yet." The hum from the red-and-silver armour rose to a high-pitched howl, and he shot off into the distance, banking sharply and angling out over the harbour.

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "...And then he just blasts off across the harbour!" Psyche fumed, pacing back and forth. "Who the hell does he think he is?!" Her eyes flashed as she turned, her bright red hair framing her irate expression. On the other side of the room, Positron glanced up from his workbench, but withheld any comments he might have had. In front of him, wires snaked from improvised connections on the mysterious circuit card to a nearby computer bank.
Readouts flickered and scrolled on a nearby screen, and the armoured scientist examined the data carefully, occasionally glancing at another screen and tapping a key. Positron became aware that it had become quiet suddenly, and glanced up - Psyche was standing watching him with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, and tapping her foot, evidently expecting a reply of some kind.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Uh," Positron scrambled to come up with something that wouldn't sound lame. "Was that a rhetorical question, or did you really want me to comment on somebody I haven't met?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Forget it," Psyche sighed and resumed pacing. "Any luck with that thing?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Some," Positron replied absently, his gaze again fixed on the monitor readouts. He snagged a spooling printout from a third console and read through the results. "It's a knock-off of Rikti technology, all right, but it was manufactured locally. The analysis shows typical elements and composition consistent with North American fabrication facilities."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I thought it was illegal to duplicate Rikti tech?" Psyche's eyebrow quirked upwards.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Plasma weapon technology only," Positron replied, hitting a couple more keys and watching the screen. "If you get the proper licenses and permits, research on the more mundane stuff is allowed."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "What's mundane about psi-blocking?" Psyche glanced darkly at the wired-up circuit board. "Anybody working on that kind of stuff is either hiding something, or wants to control psychics."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "It's possible," Positron admitted, cocking his helmet at her. "Or they could be looking for a defence against Rikti psychic powers."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "You're an optimist, Posi," Psyche shook her head, giving him a small smile. "So what's our next step?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Finding the rest of the device would be a good start," Positron turned away from the workbench. "This board is only part of a larger device, after all. Based on what you've said, it generates a field that blocks psychic-type abilities, but we'd need to conduct some more tests before I can say what the range is or if it's only supposed to block mind-reading."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I'll pass on the tests, thanks," Psyche eyed the circuit card inimically, her lips pressed in a thin line. "Feeling that thing in operation once was enough."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Well then, it looks like you'll need to call up your friend in the armour suit," Positron glanced at her. "From what you've said, it sounds like he's actively pursuing it."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp A rippling blast of energy slammed into the motley group, exploding in a coronal discharge of blue force that scattered them like bowling pins. Curses and surprised shouts filled the air as two more bursts of blue energy struck one of the Freaks - the one with the large transformer coils jutting from his shoulders. The Freak stiffened and toppled over in a limp heap as a glowing red-and-white suit of armour landed neatly in the middle of the Freaks as they scrambled to their feet.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp A crimson aura burst from MechaDeuce's right gauntlet as he slammed it into the chest of the nearest Freak, sending him arcing through the air to crash into a pile of crates. Wood chunks flew everywhere as they splintered noisily, but MechaDeuce had already turned away to deliver a point-blank volley of pulsing energy bolts to the next Freak in line - the one trying to line up a shotgun on him. The gun bellowed, spraying buckshot in a hailstorm of whining ricochets as it glanced harmlessly off his armour. The first bolt shattered the shotgun; the remainder of the volley stretched the Freak out unconscious on the pavement.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp From off to MechaDeuce's right, a submachine gun chattered noisily, but the hail of lead missed him. MechaDeuce barely even glanced in the direction of the gunner as he flattened him with another crackling energy bolt. His helmet turned, the glowing blue visor lens seeming to focus on another man groggily climbing back to his feet. Like most of the Freakshow, the man was covered in tattoos and pieces of implanted metal; unlike the others he had replaced both of his arms with massive robotic arms, ending in razor-edged claws.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp MechaDeuce's gauntlet flared again, and the metal-armed Freak skidded along the cracked asphalt in a tumbling roll. As the dazed Freak sat up drunkenly, the towering armour suit reached down and grabbed the front of his ratty leather jacket, hauling him upright to stand eyeball-to-visor.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I want some information, Slicer," MechaDeuce's electronically modulated voice was hard-edged, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Where's the weapon, and when are you punks going to try using it?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I don't know what you're talking about, cape," Slicer sneered, spitting blood onto the chestplate of his questioner.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Do I look like I'm wearing a cape?" MechaDeuce's gauntleted fist clenched tighter. "Let me refresh your memory: large long-range focused plasma weapon with psi-shielding, smuggled in pieces into the city. Dossier on Sister Psyche. Ringing any bells in that vacuum you call a brain?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I don't know nothin'," Slicer's gaze was bright with hatred. "An' even if I did, I ain't telling some nosy do-gooder in a tin suit. Why don't you mind your own business before you get hurt?"
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "By you?" MechaDeuce snorted derisively. "That'll be the...."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Something crashed into the side of his helmet with bruising force, sending waves of blackness shot through with red sparks across his vision. The world spun crazily as warning lights flashed in his helmet viewscreen. As he fought to reorient himself, MechaDeuce felt himself slam into something hard and unyielding with a loud, gritty crunch concrete, he reasoned foggily.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Shaking his head to clear the last of the flashing lights from his vision, he rolled to his feet in a combat crouch. A scant twenty feet away, a very large and bulky Freak covered in heavy metal armour, rusty spikes, and with two massive mallets for arms was stomping towards him.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Not by me," Slicer's voice oozed malicious satisfaction. "By him."

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Bert Van Vliet
skyknight@sentex.net
[www.bgcrisis.com

Greetings to all and sundry! ^_^
(Okay, for everyone who's been nagging me to log into the DW Forums, you can STOP now!! Sheesh!! =P )
Anyhow, I'm here at last. Let the PUNishment commence.
(Come back! I was *kidding!!!* =P )
I'll likely be doing most of my posting in the near future in the CoH-related forums. My fanfic stuff is in flux at the moment for a variety of reasons; I'm currently working on a short story based on my main blaster on the Virtue Server, MechaDeuce. (Just think of him as SkyKnight's older brother. )
If anyone's curious what the idea is, check out my main webpage at www.bgcrisis.com for a clue.
If anyone's really curious, I can post an excerpt in the forums.
Sayonara!
Bert Van Vliet
skyknight@sentex.net
(aka SkyKnight, MechaDeuce, Flaymecat, Captain Vaeria, Bladestryke, Winterwynd, Stormwynd, Saberkitten, Northwarden....)

I don't plan on contributing any actual story material, but I thought the writers here might find ideas or inspiration from some web sites I've collected for my own use.
CD has already mentioned one site in the General discussion, but here are 3 more that I have used for my own fanfic ideas at least once and sometimes several times.
There are more sites and I'm not presenting them in any paticular order, but for now here are 3 sites I have used for ideas.
Atomic Rockets
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www.projectrho.com/rocket/index.html
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Mikes electrical stuff
If this site's pictures doesn't give you ideas for describing the latest Fen invention then you need to turn in your Handwavium.
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www.electricstuff.co.uk/
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Orb study
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www.orbstudy.com/BIZyCart...T=OrbStudy
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howard melton
God bless

I dunno about you, Bob, but I think Doug would like My Way by Limp Bizkit.
Check, check, check check... out my melody
Special
You think you're special
You do
I can see it in your eyes
I can see it when you laugh at me
Look down on me
You walk around on me
Just one more fight
About your leadership
And I will straight up
Leave your shit
Cause I've had enough of this
And now I'm pissed
Yeah
This time I'm 'a let it all come out
This time I'm 'a stand up and shout
I'm 'a do things my way
It's my way
My way, or the highway
Check out, check check... out my melody
Just one more fight
About a lot of things
And I will give up everything
To be on my own again
Free again
Yeah
This time I'm 'a let it all come out
This time I'm 'a stand up and shout
I'm 'a do things my way
It's my way
My way, or the highway
Some day you'll see things my way
Cause you never know
Where, you never know
Where you're gonna go
Check out, check check... out my melody
Just one more fight
And I'll be history
Yes I will straight up
Leave your shit
And you'll be the one who's left
Missing me
Yeah
This time I'm 'a let it all come out
This time I'm 'a stand up and shout
I'm 'a do things my way
It's my way
My way, or the highway
Some day you'll see things my way
Cause you never know
Where, you never know
Where you're gonna go
Check out, check check... out my melody
As for the power... I think I could see this de-powering everyone with mage abilities in the area of effect for the duration of the song. It would even kill Doug's chaos field and render any and all techno-mage tools useless, so he'd have to be extra careful when using this one - normal firearms and weapons would still work. Magical creatures would even be rendered powerless - they'd still be themselves, just inable to use magic-based skills/abilities.
Could be useful if he ever winds up in over his head going up against a high-level mage. Whether or not it would render someone, like say, Wetter Hex, powerless I leave up to you. I know that it wouldn't work on any full manifestation of deity.

In the wake of the last week, when I've had more stuff than I can really handle dumped on my shoulders what with holiday obligations and all, I was thinking it would be useful to set up a moderator for this forum. The mod will have basically almost all the same rights I have, just limited to this area -- and they can do things like manage threads and update the glossary and stuff when I'm to busy to do so. It doesn't have to be one person, either -- I can appoint multiple mods.
So, 1) does this sound like a good idea to folks, and 2) who do people think ought to be moderator(s)? (I'm already inclined to set up Valles as one mod, simply because it's his baby, but folks might disagree or want others.)
-- Bob
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...The President is on the line
As ninety-nine crab rangoons go by...

Tonight, I'll be doing a Fake Nemesis hunt on Wide to help NorthFlayme get the badge. Anyone interested in joining just mention it in The Legendary channel. I'm likely to be on after 4 pm to late, with a 30 minute or so break in hte middle somewhere for dinner
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

For those who haven't noticed, ezBoard has apparently been having semi-random problems of a serious nature since at least the 20th, problems which completely disable any ability to get to the boards. I put in a support request for it this morning, and it seems that something has been done -- we're no longer on p087.ezboard.com. But it looks like we're still unstable. If anyone has any really bad problems getting in, please let me know, so I can pass it on up the line.
-- Bob
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...The President is on the line
As ninety-nine crab rangoons go by...

I'm putting this here because it does not belong on the ships thread, as it is not a ship description.
Drenivian... I'm sorry. Your ship is broken and wrong. You need to fix it. I will enumerate.
First thing: there are no metatalents here. There are biomods, but these are *not* the same thing. Biomods are a physical and/or psychological change. They cannot give you anything that can't be explained by science. Tentacles and catgirls? Yes. Precog/TK? No. Berserker states? If it's supernatural enough to be called a metatalent, it isn't a biomod. If it's just "get really angry off of a strange custom cocktail of internally generated chemicals" then that works as a biomod - but it wouldn't work on anyone who already had a biomod, and it would last for the rest of the person's life. That's a *really* big warning label you'ld have to slap on *any* sort of employment offer if you didn't want that same berserker rage turned on *you*.
Second thing: The inexplicable modifications: If it's a paint job, then that's seriously pushing the effects of local handwavium. If it's a paint job being run by a set of onboard AI-driven robots or some such, that's fine. If it's anything more than a paint job? No. Sorry. The handwavium doesn't do that. One of the first rules: "You cannot show the handwavium a picture of your genre vehicle of choice and have it just make it for you."
Third thing: the base hull: Where on earth did you *find* such a thing? I've never heard of one. It sounds like a hull designed for space, which means that you *wouldn't* find one on earth. You'ld have to actually construct it yourself, which means that its accuracy would be limited by your abilities at construction and the money you had available. Exactly the same issue, worse and more of it, applies to your "Supplimentary mecha". You have to build those things individually, and they take large quantities of time, effort, and money. Also, especially at the scale you're talkign about, it's not really something you can keep under wraps anymore - and so you're going to get the Danelaw pounding at your door somehting fierce *well* before you get it off the ground. If you're not making it on the ground? Well, that presents its own difficulties.
Fourth thing: Money: Putting together the hardtech part of this would require *huge* amounts of cash, even going Full Kludge Ahead (and soaking down the tremendous masses of Quirk that would result.) Where are you getting the money for it all? Especially with two sister ships?
Fifth thing: do you *really* think that the US is going to be cool with having a major 'wave-based corporation in the middle of Lake Superior? Especially one that spawns biomods like they're going out of style and seems to be equipped for war? The most recent administration got *elected* on the back of anti-handwavium sentiment.
Sixth thing: Why, why, why would you build an enormous mecha-carrier as a science vessel? This is fenspace. The bigger you are, the slower you crawl. Science/research vessels generally are big enough to carry an appropriate research payload, along with appropriate researchers, and that's it. If you're feeling paranoid, you might throw in a bit of defensive kludgetech, but not anythign that would take up much mass, and *certainly* not a bunch of giant robots.
Seventh thing: Hardtech scientists cannot trust wavetech data. The quirk makes it far too unreliable. If you're building a scientific satellite for them, that means that you have a company with both a serious wavetech and a serious hardtech presence. This is... nontrivial to justify, given the history. Remember, we're pretty much working off of current truth. If your company isn't big enough to have a web presence/news articles/etc in the here and now, then it's not that big on the cusp of in-game 2007 either. Admittedly, there's a *bit* of fudge-factor there - the split happened a short while ago - but it's still a decent rule of thumb.