Chapter 366 (1/2)
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USER NAME>Da'amo'o_The_Magician
PASSWORD (Never share you password. Neb-Steam Customer Service Will NEVER ask you for your password): [email protected]$$w0rd
Welcome, Da'amo'o the Magician. You have 14 new messages and one Urgent Message.
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View Urgent Message?
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FROM: NEBULA-STEAM STARLIGHT PROGRAM
TO: Great Most High of Planetary Maintenance Da'amo'o
Your submitted game ”Terran Maintenance Attack Simulator” has been reviewed by our Quality and Standards Team as well as undergone our six day playtest system. Your recent patch 0.4.1.A2.a (Food Dispenser Update) was received and applied.
We are proud to announce to you that your game, ”Terran Maintenance Attack Simulator” has been approved for sale on Nebula-Steam as part of the Starlight Program, which seeks to amplify the reach of indie developers such as yourself.
Simply go to your Developer's Page and follow the instructions. Remember to upload both your 2D and 3DVR game cover art as well as double-check your splash-page stinger for translation errors.
At this time, you are approved for Early Access Release, Alpha Test Release, Beta Test Release, or Full Release.
Additional options are available to you for release of your media as well as advertising your media.
Once again, we here at Nebula-Steam would like to welcome you to our Starlight Program and we look forward to working with you.
--The Digitally Simulated Brain of Gabe Newell, Nebula-Steam LLC
Would you like to see your Developers Page and Tools?
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Great Most High of Planetary Maintenance Da'amo'o galloped around the relaxation lawn behind the Planetary Maintenance Facility, feeling his chest swell with an unidentified emotion. He knew that upstairs, on his computer, files were being uploaded to Nebula-Steam, rolling out the Early-Access Release of what had started as a mere way of passing the time.
Neo-sapients stared at him as he galloped around, but merely smiled to one another. Da'amo'o was known to be a bit eccentric for a Lanaktallan, but he authorized plenty of overtime, divided up maintenance across the planet into zones where one had to travel very little to reach a work order, and had even broken open the stores and allowed neo-sapients to use government vehicles rather than take public transportation to job sites.
Why, he had even authorized uniforms that displayed that a neo-sapient worked for Planetary Maintenance, complete with badges of ranks and coloration that displayed what part of Maintenance they worked for.
One of the Savashan sitting on a bench eating a sandwich (with actual RealMeatTM in it) had been accosted by LawSec two weeks ago. Most High Da'amo'o had arrived personally to release him from the jail cell, took back the tools, chastised the LawSec Commander, and then, weirdly enough, when heating failed to all of the LawSec Officer's offices, had put the repairs on low priority.
As far as that Savashan was concerned, if Da'amo'o wanted to run in circles wearing a purple paper hat and blowing a musical instrument, the Savashan would defend Da'amo'o's right to do so.
Da'amo'o himself was sweating and blowing heavy, his heart still full of something he couldn't describe, as he leaned into the corner he was running around. He couldn't believe it, it was too incredible, too outlandish.
He had logged into his ”Developer Options” page on Nebula Steam and carefully read through the contract. It was mind-boggling. It was outrageous.
He retained full control of his program. All rights to it.
Nebula-Steam would host it on their servers, even offered the option for hosting of multi-player servers, and only asked for FORTY PERCENT! of the take. It was outrageous.
Then, he had discovered he could release different versions as long as they were functionally different. He had spent nearly a week coding heavily, allowing the VI 'supervisors' to handle the basic maintenance, and had come up with multiple versions of his game.
Why, he'd be getting six credits out of ten! He had set the price of one hundred twenty credits for the full version, sixty credits for the limited version, eighty credits for the multiplayer, forty-credits for the ”Food Dispenser Panic!” DLC (what a wonderful concept. Downloadable content that could just be patched into the game, changing the game, updating it, without having to completely redo it! Just the thought of such a remarkable idea made Da'amo'o quiver with excitement), and the five ten-credit ”World Map Packs” and the ”City Procedural Generation Software” that was available as a free download to anyone who owned the 'Executor Freakout' version. Then there was the ”Building Artpack” for various planets and species, even including a special building relevant to each species, for only five credits, that came bundled in the ”Executor Freakout” version. Not to mention the Demo that would unlock into the limited version if a neo-sapient put in their worker ID number.
He had, at first, ensured the settings were put right so that his implant would be pinged for each sale. In the beginning, there was only a handful of pings the first few hours. Then more. Then even more. Until his implant couldn't keep up.
He was terrified to look into his Nebula-Steam wallet.
There was a shimmering in the air and he slowed down, coming to a stop and panting. He tapped the shimmer and a VR representation of a door appeared.
The Pink Panty Fairy stepped through, wearing her new outfit that he'd carefully designed for her. It was modeled after Terran ”power suits'. Not the combat kind, no, the kind that projected authority and dominance, consisting of a pair of shined high heeled boots, slacks with creases on the front of the legs, and an official looking torso covering with long sleeves and cufflinks. She wore a pink sash that displayed that she was Da'amo'o's personal assistant and operated with his full authority.
Da'amo'o had carefully gone over Terran images of powerful females and what they wore. He had agonized over current fashions, dressing properly for various jobs, and other media.
He had eventually settled on a modification of the Space Force female Terran uniform, complete with sash.
”You made Gold, Da'amo'o, baby,” she said, her glittering iridescent wings twitching. ”Ten million sales in the last two hours.”
Da'amo'o shuffled nervously.
”Even your map packs, the DLC, and the Executor Freakout versions are firmly in the Gold status,” she said. She lifted up a clipboard and looked at it. ”At current projections, you should hit Platinum within a week. Returns are less than two percent. Your rating is 'Oustandingly Positive' and average customer engagement on first playthrough is three hours.”
Da'amo'o nodded, reaching into his pouch and pulling out a wad of carefully harvested expensive cud. He jammed it in his mouth and slowly began chewing it, thinking. He had been thinking of adding a ”Work Crew Supervisor Expansion Pack” where a being could take on the role of a supervisor and move through a procedurally generated building to watch over the neo-sapients as they worked.
If the game was doing that well, he might have to adapt the old public domain software that generated dungeons that he had found on a code repository site. Combining it with the shopping trip simulator software that he had found abandoned might work...
”Currently, using proxy servers to upload the game mean that the majority of purchasers and interested parties think that the game was developed and uploaded from Hesstla, which still has a high Lanaktallan population despite being nominally under Terran control,” she said. She lowered the clipboard and it vanished.
”So, Da'amo'o, baby, what's your plan now?” the Pink Secretary asked.
Da'amo'o trotted toward the door that would lead to the elevator that would take him to his office. ”What's my schedule look like?”
The Pink Secretary looked at another clipboard. ”Clear for the next two days. That's when you have scheduled an inspection of the worker's maintenance vehicles.”
Da'a'mo'o nodded. That gave him an idea. ”Maintenance Street Racing” where the players could race bulky, unresponsive cargo vehicles and tool vans through city streets to a job, competing with other maintenance teams to reach the contract and clock in first.
He quickly mentally jotted a note and passed it to his datalink to pass it to his console.
Perhaps have the wild card where overpowered flaming Terran vehicles attempt to run the maintenance crew vehicle off the road? he thought.
”How is the reference gathering for Project Blah Bleh Blah going?” he asked her.
She consulted a datapad. ”Not well. Mostly we've had to use police sketches and mockups as well as video taken from Gal-Net.”
Damnation and tarnation, as a Treana'ad cattle rustler would say, Da'amo'o thought to himself. He had ridden home in a limousine one foggy night, staring out the window, and had gotten the idea to create an entertainment game completely based on fiction, starring the Night Terran.
But he was having a hard time gathering concrete data on the elusive figure.
”You asked me to remind you about tonight, baby,” the Pink Secretary said.
”The motion capture actors,” Da'amo'o stated. He stopped and waited for the elevator.
The neo-sapients and a few female Lanaktallan were supposed to arrive at his domicile for dinner and then motion capture. He was planning on rewarding them handsomely.
Credits bought more cooperation than his rank, and he had learned to appreciate it.
In the elevator he brought up data on his retinal link, examining it. Most of what he wanted was available on the public domain software repositories. He'd gained an eye for being able to determine if the software might be usable. If it contained extensive documentation, it would be easily usable.