Maxwell Farantine has not been the slightest bit pleased with the reports he's
been getting in, as of late. Mental turmoil in the Guild ranks is on the rise,
with two Singers so traumatized they are unable to sing, one medic down,
two more Singers and one of the younger Guild lawyers all with disturbing
current notes in their psychological profiles - and these are only the most
recent cases. Add to this the usual ongoing problems with Singers allowing
their resonance levels to be driven too high, the recent death of the
head of the Psychology department, and the rank newness of most of the
Psychology staff, and the highest-ranking member of the Heptite Guild finds
himself quietly loathing the sight of his own terminal screen, almost
wishing he had the freedom to retreat into the Ranges, as he used to do,
not so long ago.

But he does not have that luxury. He does have the discipline to keep at his
paperwork, studying each individual case as it pops up on his computer screen,
and weighing the needs of the patients against the skills of what staff
members he has at his disposal. It is during an hours-long session of tackling
this problem that he gets an unexpected visitor....

----------
Guildmaster's Office
Soft luminescent lighting, the sort that is soothing to the eyes, rather than 
  harsh fluorescence shines down from the ceiling. The walls have been tinted 
  an ivory, almost cream color. Situated near the back of the room, centered 
  near the middle of the back wall, is an expansive desk with a console at one 
  end and piles of papers, disks, and pens scattered across the rest. Three 
  chairs, upholstered in deep reddish-brown material, reminiscent of leather, 
  have been placed in front of the desk. Behind the desk is a large chair, 
  upholstered in the same material. Large armrests extend from the back of the 
  chair which sits on a slight tilt. The chair also looks as if it was one 
  rollers so that its occupant can easily reach either end of the extensive 
  desk. 
Contents:
Activity Screen
Computer Monitor
Obvious exits:
Door  

To Assistant's Area, Maxwell answers tiredly, "Come."

A rather harried looking assistant comes in and informs you that there is a 
  woman in a wheelchair insisting she needs to speak to you.

Shenzen enters from the assistant's area.
Shenzen has arrived.

Maxwell looks up from his paperwork wearily, blinking at the arrival. He thanks 
  his assistant, and blinks again - "Shenzen...!"

Shenzen glances around her. "nice office" she comments. "You've come up since I 
  last saw you."

Maxwell, for once, looks rather nonplussed and slightly less than immaculate, 
  the look of a man who has been busy at work for the last several hours. His 
  assistant inquires hesitantly, "Sir, shall I leave....?"
Maxwell nods wearily, but affably, and the assistant darts out.
Maxwell comes over and gives a bit of a bow to you, half-smiling. "The 
  elevation was unexpected," he agrees dryly.

Shenzen
Shenzen sits, straight and tall, in her custom-made, automated wheelchair. Her 
  red-brown hair (the silver highlights of which are the only indication of her 
  advanced age) lies in a tightly curled halo surrounding her angular, Asiatic 
  face. Thin, trim, and athletic despite her sedentary lifestyle, her greenish 
  brown eyes seem to be everlastingly sparkling.

Spread across her lap, hiding everything from her hips to her upper calves, is 
  a folded-over red and blue checkered and textured polyester blanket. There 
  are alternating silver and gold sparkling patterns weaved faintly into the 
  cloth.
A shiny silver headband flattens her hair into bangs around her forehead and 
  the rest curls over the edges. There is a matching band around her neck, 
  drawing the eyes down. Below, a green bodysuit with a rounded neck clings to 
  her form, taut over her sharp bust line, and dropping down to loosen out 
  right before it disappears beneath the blanket. Her arms are bare, but she 
  has matching elbow-length gloves, and black knee-boots on her feet.

==============================================================================
Registered information for Shenzen:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Born over 400 years ago on a pastoral planet out on the edges of known space of
  the time, Shenzen grew up reading fantastical stories about how folks lived
  on other worlds. Secretly, she longed for this type of life, but knew it was
  not to be. Her home was not the sort oft-visited by visitors from other
  worlds. So, at the age of 17, she was married to a boy she had grown up with.
  Together, they raised a family of 3 children and were happy together -- until
  the first ship of space visitors -- a ship by the name of _Manifest_ came.
  They ignited the spark of curiousity left in her with the talk of great
  riches and a planet of folk who earned their livings singing. She kissed her
  husband and children good-bye and hired onto the ship as a cook to find out
  the truth of these rumors. And so it was that, at the age of 37, she came
  down to Ballybran in the Class of 763.

The planetful of singers was not just a fairytale after all! However, when she
  came out of adaptation to Ballybran's harsh and unforgiving environment, it
  was to discover that she had lost all sense and control from her hips down.
  She had been willing to lose her life for the chance to make her riches
  Singing -- but had never really faced up to any other possibility than those.
  Eventually, she got used to it -- but not in the lifetime of the husband and
  family she sent her extra credits back to. As a medic, she was often faced
  with the terrible consequences and hardness of a Singer's life -- and how she
  still had her voice to sing with even if it wasn't for crystal. This, along
  with the fulfillment she got from helping folk helped her accept her
  condition.

However, with her disability, she really wasn't best in emergency situations --
  or any of the necessary surgical duties. What she excelled at was listening
  and talking to the patients in the wards and so, more and more as time went
  on, she worked with the psychologists, and was finally transferred there,
  where her talents could be better utilized by the Guild. As the years wore
  on, she worked her way up the department (and kept track of her
  grandchildren, great grandchildren, and other descendants as far as she could
  as they spread through the stars.), until she became the Head of the
  Department -- a position she filled for almost twenty-five years before
  getting bored and retiring to allow a younger and more energetic man to take
  over. That was thirty-seven years and three department Heads ago. Dolan, the
  last in this string, has been off-planet and incommunicado for almost two
  years now, and Shenzen agrees (having become bored of retirement as well) to
  take over as Head of the Department again.

==============================================================================

Shenzen looks at you for a moment.
Shenzen peers at you, then sits back. "well. Always did know you'd end up in a 
  wheeled chair one day. And, in this case, perhaps it can be of help to me as 
  well."

Maxwell moves into the room, slightly to one side so as to allow you room to 
  roll in as you will. He chuckles a bit; one eyebrow lifts in curiosity at 
  your last remark as he gestures to the catering unit. "May I offer you 
  something?"

Shenzen glances over the unit, then shrugs. "My palate isn't used to all that 
  richness. But thank you anyway. Unless you have some Andrellian asparagus 
  sprouts?"

Maxwell smiles slightly, commenting, "I do not dial up half of what I have 
  available myself. But I believe I can accommodate you." He dials in your 
  request, and waits until a bowl of the fresh greens are provided him.
Maxwell then presents this to you, and pulls over one of the chairs to settle 
  down in friendly proximity to you. "It is good to see you again, my friend," 
  he says quietly.

Shenzen nods, munching on a green "good to see you as well. I think I should 
  have visited more often... To have missed this." She indicates the room with 
  a toss of her head.

Maxwell gives a small, modest, slightly amused grin. "I recall sending out a 
  communique to the Guild at large at the time I took over... "

Shenzen smiles, then frowns slightly. "That isn't getting me any closer to why 
  I DID come though. I'm worried."
Shenzen says "who reads those things?"

Maxwell gives a bark of laughter, leaning back in his chair. He studies you 
  then, and nods, inviting, "Worried about...?"

Shenzen says "Doran. No. The Psychologist Department." She considers. "Maybe 
  both, actually."

Maxwell's dark brows pull together, then ease. He glances at his desk and the 
  still-activated terminal, as well as the sheaves of hardcopy through which he 
  has been browsing. "Your timing has improved with the years," he says 
  gravely, then looks back to you. "Go on... "

Shenzen says "I might not read ALL that Guild mail. but I hold onto it. And I 
  read some. Especially when it came to my attention that you're having a rash 
  of serious problems -- Some of the names I used to hear in connection with 
  big hauls and such are now being spoken about in whispers as if they weren't 
  even alive."

Maxwell steeples his fingers, his elbows propped on the arms of the chair he's 
  claimed. He almost smiles, but there is a palpable flicker of worry in his 
  dark eyes. "Your information-gathering resources have remained alert, as 
  well, I see. Indeed - we have problems. Singers and some non-Singers, as 
  well."

Shenzen shrugs, slightly. "I've had nothing better to do. Anyway, the last 
  message I can find is that Doran was going off-planet. And he isn't 
  responding to my attempts to locate him.,,: She watches you closely.

Maxwell, in the midst of reaching to turn the terminal screen in both your 
  directions, seems to skip a beat for a moment before he informs you gravely, 
  "Guildmember Doran died offworld, Shenzen."

Shenzen looks stunned, but not overly surprised. "I... He'd have to be after 
  this long, yes... I still did not want to hear that"
Shenzen says, conversationally almost. "He wasn't much older than you"

Maxwell finishes his motion, turning the terminal screen into view. A Guild 
  personnel file is on display, showing the face of an young man with black 
  hair and wide blue eyes. But Maxwell doesn't comment on the display, simply 
  looking at you seriously.
Maxwell again smiles, but it's a sad and somewhat wistful expression. "Yes... I 
  recorded that."

Shenzen looks between the display and you, listening.
I mean, she has that listening look in her eyes as she gazes at you.

Maxwell tells you honestly, "Support personnel in the last few years have been 
  understrained, my friend - many of our experienced, older staff simply have 
  finally reached the end of the lifespan the symbiont grants them. As a 
  result, many of our departments are getting staffed by raw recruits who have 
  barely had time to digest their training properly." He frowns, wearily.

Shenzen nods. "What are you going to do about it?"

Maxwell studies you with the same level gaze you've offered him, but all he 
  says is, "Our top priority _is_ Psychology. lwo Singers are on inactive 
  status due to being convinced they are unable to sing, and Medical quite 
  honestly doesn't know what to do with them. And that's just the cases we've 
  had reported in the last month."
Maxwell gestures at the screen, tiredly, finishing, "_My_ top priority is to 
  choose which of our young staff can return my Singers to their proper 
  health." Maxwell's eyes sadden for a moment, though he doesn't go on.

Shenzen crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back and thinking. "Who was 
  Doran's second?"

Maxwell answers, almost curtly, "He didn't have one. Never named one before 
  that emergency took him offworld."

Shenzen blinks, counting quickly in her head. "You mean... the department's not 
  HAD a leader in all that time? No wonder you've got problems."

Maxwell heavily nods. "Past all the usual problems with Singers unbalanced from 
  their resonance levels. We have had several... incidents, recently. The two I 
  mentioned before both underwent severely traumatic experiences offworld."

Shenzen nods, consideringly watching you.

Maxwell indicates the earnest-faced image on the terminal. "Rykos Knight was 
  nearly slain on Tyr. His profile indicates he's half-convinced he's still 
  dead." With a touch to a button, he brings up a second screen, this one of a 
  similarly earnest young face, but this one with fairer hair. "Kevlan Sharr 
  was attacked and held captive on Hesperia, in the midst of attempting to 
  fulfill an installation assignment. Both Singers are on record as being 
  convinced they're incapable of singing."
Maxwell eyes the second image for a moment, and adds grimly, "I feel 
  responsible for young Sharr. I had to talk him into taking the assignment."

Shenzen says "I'm sure you wouldn't have talked him into it without a good 
  reason. Perhaps... well. I HAVE been getting bored out at the White Seas. 
  Would like to know more than just whispers when an old friend becomes 
  Guildmaster. Perhaps..." She frowns and shakes her head. "I don't want to 
  interfere"

Maxwell lifts his eyebrows, turning back to glance at you. He is too 
  even-natured a man to let too much express itself in his face, but 
  nevertheless, a line of tension between his brows eases a bit. He says 
  candidly, "Quite frankly, that's the best suggestion I have entertained to 
  this dilemma in three days. I've got a staff full of green infants who are 
  almost in need of psychological treatment themselves from the strain of their 
  jobs - did I mention one of our urgent cases is a medic herself?"
Maxwell goes on, now eyeing you steadily, "But my friend, I could not in good 
  conscience make such a decision for you. You've served the Guild long and 
  well already."

Shenzen gives up her casual air and grins, "Great bloody winds. I already said 
  I was bored. If you're sure I won't be interfering, It might be interesting 
  to lead a department once again -- and I can't stand to see it being run the 
  way it is much longer without tearing all my hair out anyway"
Shenzen murmurs, "So who cares if I lose it trying to do the job of a younger 
  man"

Maxwell smiles tiredly, leaning over towards you. "I for one would care. And I 
  can already hear the sighs of relief from our fledgling staff."

Shenzen grumbles about Singer hearing good-naturedly. "well. I'll have to have 
  a few things brought over from my quarters... and don't you ever go thinking 
  you have to cater to me" She grins, eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'm only 
  doing this for the Guild's good" Well... maybe, " and if its ever no longer 
  your good just boot me back into retirement.

Maxwell inclines his head, a bit of a sparkle returning to his gaze. "I cannot 
  express my relief and gratitude to you, dear lady. Though I will try, by 
  leaving it up to you as to whether I'll send over a recruit or two to help 
  you transfer your belongings." He smiles.

Shenzen looks surprised. "We've got a group of recruits down right now? I am 
  behind on things... What class is it by any chance?"
Shenzen says "I think I might spend some time setting up and letting folks know 
  I'm back in business. I can always commandeer a recruit or two when I'm ready 
  for them." She looks you over. "Or a nice, young, strong Singer."

Maxwell chuckles softly, telling you, "Class 2011 is on-planet, and 2012 is 
  being assembled on Shankill." He bows. "You know how to flatter a man, dear 
  lady."

Shenzen grins, and suddenly realizes she holds a sprout in her hand that only 
  has the one bite out of it. "look here, now. You got me forgetting to eat."

Maxwell laughs softly, and gestures encouragingly at the bowl. "By all means, 
  proceed, then - I will need you strong, for all the cases I am about to place 
  in your hands."

[End log.]