Space Station Fourteen

NAME: WITHHELD FOR PRIVACY, SEE HUMAN CAPITAL DEPARTMENT FOR INFORMATION.

PSYCHOPARADIGM: 

She told me to reach for the stars, but now that I’m here, I can’t see the sky anymore.

The station felt claustrophobic when I first arrived. It still does. The harsh metal walls confining our horizon to the end of a hallway. The station felt cold, some mechanical coldness that didn't go away with time. The winter coat is in the backroom. Put it on. Maybe making people drinks will help, socialize with a cheerfulness that wasn’t in me before. Their conversations warm my heart, their simple praises shining like gold. 

An ice cream. One part ice, one part sugar jug, one part cream, something non-alcoholic for a doctor who can’t afford to drink on the job. The cream follows the metal spoon like prevailing winds, twisting and whirling into a vortex until it dissolves in the sugar jug.

A Manly Dorf. One part beer, two parts ale, for a cargo technician who’s had a rough shift so far. The beer makes the drink foam beautifully, peaking over the brim, fluffy piles clumps together to form an irregularly rounded top like heavy clouds. Does it ever rain in space?

A conflict. A few choice words, a punch thrown, a glass that flies across the bar, it hits me on the top of my head. Blood trickles down from the wound, the numbness feels like it’s from the chill in the autumn air, when the bright blue sky paints a fading memory of the summer before.

A Moonshine. One part vodka, one part whiskey, one part tequila, this time for myself. It warms me from the inside out, like being encompassed by the blazing sunlight, like the adrenaline in my body as the crackling gunfire rings out.

If I fall, just leave me on the ground for a bit. I haven’t seen the sky in so, so long.

RANK: SERVICE WORKER.

AGE: 18

EMPLOYMENT PERIOD: 0 YEARS, 2 MONTHS.

LOYALTY RATING: 3 

CRIMINAL FILE FOR NANOTRASEN DOCUMENTATION PURPOSES ONLY: BURN IF FOUND, DO NOT OPEN.


SUBJECT NUMBER [██████]

FIRST NAME:  ███████
LAST NAME: Cirrus [1]

EYES: Black
HEIGHT: 4’11
WEIGHT: 85 lbs
AGE: 18
SCALE: Butter-yellow

CHARGES: 26
ARRESTS: 5
CONVICTIONS: 21
FACTOR OF RESIDENCE: Planet [082],  █████ ██████, Fourteenth System.
FLIGHT RISK: --Yes-- No [2]

AFFILIATIONS:
This subject is a prominent member of the Syndicate, working specifically under Cybersun Ind. as an operative. Discovered records [3] show years of involvement, likely starting from the age of ██. Subject is proficient in ranged and melee weapons, utilizes storage implants, and is prone to be extremely aggressive during encounters. Subject seems to enjoy taunting official figures verbally, regardless of monologuing, the subject is effective and focuses on specific objectives over collateral damage.

Furthermore, the subject was also associated with an unofficial group named “The Cirrus” before the Syndicate. The group consists of five individuals including the subject. Jingle Cirrus, Jangle Cirrus, Wren Cirrus, Sol Cirrus, and  ███████ Cirrus [1]. An additional file about this is attached in the subject’s information folder. Four of the members were confirmed ████████ during the events of incident [█████] on Bagel Station within the █████ ██████, Fourteenth System. Nanotrasen has been declared as not responsible for this incident [4].

CONVICTIONS:
Minor
Possession/Use of Minor Contraband

Vandalism

Trespass
Moderate

Failure to Comply

Possession/Use of Major Contraband

Damage/Destruction of Property
Major

Breach of Arrest

Possession/Use of Syndicate Contraband

Grand Theft
Mass Destruction

Secure Trespass

Assault/Battery

Manslaughter
Extreme

Breach of Custody
Kidnapping

Attempted Murder

Murder

Capital

Refusal of Mental Shielding

Terrorism

Prevention of Revival
Mass Murder

SENTENCING:

Due to the unpaid contracts of Jingle Cirrus, Jangle Cirrus, Wren Cirrus, and Sol Cirrus, who were all Nanotrasen employees at their time of expiry, it has been suggested by Central Command Official █████ ████████ for the subject to pay their debt in their steads. This more humane and ethical punishment could possibly rehabilitate individuals from the Syndicate propaganda with the additional help of cutting-edge Nanotrasen technology. The final sentencing is for the subject to serve as a fully-paid bartender on Nanotrasen stations within the Funky Sector, Fourteenth System until he is deemed rehabilitated. During this time, a ██████ ████████ implant should be in place, essentially █████████ the █████████ ██████ ██ ████ before the events of incident [█████]. For this to be effectively enforced, any information regarding the subject’s past is to be not disclosed, and file requests for subject [██████] is not to be considered for approval unless issued by a Command or higher ranking member of crew. Under no circumstances is the implant to be removed without the approval of Central Command. The subject’s recovery is to be watched and documented closely.


1. Upon further investigation, it is confirmed that the subject’s last name is not Cirrus despite previous statements from said subject. Subject has no blood relation with the rest of “Cirrus” despite insistence from both parties.

2. Documentation changed as of 32██/██/██, upon observation of subject [██████]’s first shift after sentencing.

3. Refer to evidence [█████████ ███████████ ███████] in the subject's information folder.

4. Refer to court case documents regarding the incident [█████] on Bagel Station within the █████ ██████, Fourteenth System.