Waltzing in a Mechsuit: a Sci-fi Mercenary Quest

"Kellows, take the Sniper!" You order as you and Smitty as the catapults throw you from the launch bays. A wicked grin crawls across your face as anticipation builds. As much as you might deny it, you can't help but get excited at the prospect of combat. "I wanna see those Footsoldiers burn!" You hear a whoop and an affirmative from the battle-lusted maiden.

"Smitty! You're on guard duty!" The Lancer gives a nod in the affirmative, then pauses as you continue. "I don't wanna see a single bullet ping off that Sniper!"

"What're you gonna do, boss?" Your fellow pilot asks as he breaks away from formation, moving to cut off the approaching enemy MBFs that have launched from the pirate ship.

"I'm gonna go give them a present." You reply, your grin obvious in your voice. "Right on their doorstep."

You can almost hear the mental record scratch coming from Smitty. "Uh, boss? That's, uh, I don't mean to do your job for you, but ain't that kinda suicidal?"

"Only suicidal if I don't come back, then it's heroic." You end with an upbeat note.

You can hear him mutter something along the lines of 'what did I get myself into?' before responding. "Alright, boss, just, uh, watch your back out there."

"You too, Smitty, you too." You flex your fingers around the controls, breathing in deep.

3

2

1

And then breathing out.

It's time to kick some ass.

~~~~~~~

(Kellows Combat Roll DC 65,65*: 26+40=66, bare success)

Battle commences with a beam of blinding energy erupting from the Sniper. It travels across the battlefield in the blink of an eye, before it makes contact with the enemy, a Footsoldier being piloted by a pirate.

However, thanks to the half-finished state of the Sniper, she's unable to get a good reading on the pirate MBF, which allows the enemy pilot to move and tank the plasma shot to the arm instead of taking it face-on. It still loses the arm, its left, but it's not out of the fight yet. Not by a long shot.

The Footsoldiers gun their engines, racing towards Kellows and the Sniper with all their speed. You can see Smitty, thrusters glowing bright orange, on an intercept course with them, playing defensive. It'll be hard for Kellows to get a shot while Smitty's furballing, but you have confidence that they'll be fine.

You, however, have a job to do, one that you'll need to focus on. You left that Hoplite, Curtis at the controls, in your dust and are now boosting towards their ship. You can see their point defense moving around, targeting you so that the moment you get in range, they can light you up.

However, that ship, like most freighters, isn't built for combat and as such, has a lot of trenches that you can use for cover. In order to use those grooves, of course, you're gonna have to get past those guns of theirs.

(Combat Roll (Dodging the Pirates' PD) DC 70: 53+40=93, success)

A piece of cake.

You twist and dance as turret fire arcs across the black of space, scything towards you with lethal intent. Utterly useless, as far as intentions go. Bullets scream past your machine, close, but not nearly close enough.

Every missed shot brings you closer and closer to the ship, closer and closer to your goals.

With a flaring of your braking thrusters, you come to a halt in the nearest trench, about midway in the ship.

(Knowledge (Ships) DC 55,70: 75, double success)

And a couple meters away from their main sensor array, if your memory serves you right. This model of freighter, a Cargonian CT-7, is one you've served on before. Suffice to say, you memorized the shit outta that ship, so you know where all the juicy shits' held.

And fortunately, you've got just the thing, the perfect present, to deal with a hostile sensory array. Your left arm ducks down to an EMP Grenade stashed away on your hip, planting the anti-systems weapon on the hull of the ship.

Your boosters kick in, throwing you up and out of the trench, heading towards the next location on the ship, your next target.

The EMP Grenade goes off just as the PD picks you up again, throwing their targeting computers out of line. With the expanding ball of blue electricity behind you, you gun it through the lines of frantic, confused gunfire.

(Combat Roll (Dodging the Pirates' PD) DC 45: 62+40=102, one success
98+2=100, double success, wtf
84+0=84, triple success, okay then
Result: Triple Success)

You're a blur in the black void of space, your machine seemingly weightless as it blitzes across nothingness. You can see, in your back sensors, the Hoplite and its cannons struggling to track you, utterly helpless in stopping you from completing your second objective.

Which you do, dropping another EMP Grenade right over their radiators. Have fun doing anything with no power, assholes.

With their heat management disabled, the ship has no choice but to shut everything non-vital down, leaving them sitting ducks in space.

However, you can't take proper advantage of this, not with Curtis lining up a shot on you.

(Combat Contest Sam Vonkartha vs Curtis Grash
Sam: 98+55=153, one success
21+48=74, Curtis needs one success and over 74 to win
Curtis: 99+25=124, one success
39+24=63, not good enough
Verdict: Sam Wins)

You twist out of the way just as the Hoplite's laser lance fires, the crimson beam glowing past your shoulder before it abruptly cuts out.

He's backing off, engines firing in order to keep some distance from you. You can see an open channel on your comms. It's originating from the Hoplite; he's trying to talk to you, it seems.

-[ ] Accept the hail
-[ ] Don't accept the hail

Regardless of whether or not you accept his communications, you've still gotta have a plan of attack.
-[ ] Plan name
--[ ] Write in

~~~~~~~

Elsewhere in the fight
If the enemy beats Smitty's Combat Roll, they survive and make it to Kellows, if they beat Kellows' Combat Roll, then they can attack her.

Kellows Combat (Sniper Support) Roll: 48+40=88
Smitty Combat (Screening for Kellows) Roll: 61+15=76

Enemy Combat Rolls:
1st Footsoldier: 23+10=33, dead, killed by Smitty
2nd Footsoldier: 64+12=76, tie, defender wins on ties, dead, killed by Kellows+Smitty Assist

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: My deepest apologies for the delayed update, I have had really screwy sleep recently and I went to bed at, like, 6-7 AM yesterday. It wasn't great. Voting will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST.

Also, I figured out how exploding dice work, so that's a thing now. I always intended for exploding dice to be in this, but I just flopped on brain thoughts for it until recently.

You key the comms, accepting the hail from the pirate. You sigh, here you go again.

"Surrender or I chop you into itty-bitty pieces, and then I do the same to your ship." You interrupt whatever it was that he was gonna say. The adrenaline's starting to wear off, leaving you in a tired state and you just can't be bothered. "You've got three seconds to respond." You draw your Heat Sword, the red-hot blade igniting as it leaves its vacuum-sealed sheathe.

(Intimidation Roll DC 70: 77+10=87, success)

You see his arms shift, and for a second, you think that he's really gonna try it. But, your threat seems to have worked as he releases the hold on the laser lance, letting it drift away as he retracts the energy shield on his other arm. Robotic arms, mounted in the back, reach up and unload the shoulder cannons' shells, letting them drift away as well.

"Alright alright!" Curtis grunts at you, his machine's hands splayed wide. "I surrender!" You see him click something offscreen. "And so does my crew." He reluctantly continues, giving the order for his crew to stand down.

Now then, what to do with Curtis Grash? You can make a decision for the crew later, but right now… you've got him dead to rights, should you so choose. But, this isn't a battlefield, not anymore. Mercenaries hold themselves to a certain standard of conduct, it's what stops mercenaries from murdering each other over contracts and petty grudges.
-[ ] Stay your hand (You start to gain a reputation for mercy and honorable conduct)
-[ ] Bloody your hand (You start to gain a reputation for ruthlessness)

~~~~~~~

(Loot roll: 54)

"Commander Vonkartha." Charles greets you as you step onto the bridge, he looks a little worse for wear, stress having an adverse affect on his face. You think he has a couple more grey hairs than before.

"Quartermaster Charles." You return the greeting, coming to a rest next to the station he'd been standing at. "What've you got for me?"

He shrugs, handing you a dataslate which you tap through. "Well, we're not really looking at much in the way of loot here."

"Looks like." And he's right, there's really not much in the pirates' hold. Nothing beyond a few crates of ammo and supplies, which you happily take on, giving you another couple days of food.

"There were a couple crates of computer parts, we grabbed those as well. They're looking to be commercial stuff, so we can probably sell it off for a quick buck." The Quartermaster says, pointing them out to you.

"We?" You ask, raising an eyebrow as his eyes widen.

"I-I didn't mean anything by it!" He hastens to apologize, hands waving slightly. "It's just that… Well, the David's Horn has gone up in smoke and our livelihoods along with it and… Some of the boys been talking about signing up with you, once we get outta here."

You nod, you'd figured it was something like that, especially with Captain Kamilla out of commission. "Well, we'll have to get outta here first, 'fore we can make any arrangements like that."

He nods and chuckles. "Ain't that the truth."

"But, how much do you reckon we could sell those computers off for?" You say in an attempt to steer the conversation back on track.

Charles rocks in his boots as breath hisses into his mouth. "I reckon prob'ly something around, oh, five grand or so."

5,000 SUDs? Well, it's not the greatest of hauls, but you're not complaining. Money's money, after all. Those and the spices'll get you enough for another MBF, if you are so inclined.

"Any news on the data front?" The pirates had surrendered their computers over without a fuss, though the sheer amount of porn on it had given you pause.

"Yep, though I'm pretty sure we've got something of a virus from just plugging the thing in." He flicks a thumb at the computer behind him as his expression falls, trepidation heavy in his voice. "...It's not looking good for us, at least fifteen enemy MBFs and four enemy ships, one of which is a Sunner destroyer."

"Nothing too new there, we know what we're up against." You respond with a steady face, trying not to let the creeping dread show.

"Fortunately, it seems that this Buckshaw is an honorable sort, as much as that can be said for a pirate." Charles scowls, pantomiming a spit off to the side. "So, you know, there's that."

"So we won't have to worry about the ship in the fight, good to know."

"Also, this entire thing seems really out of character for him."

"What do you mean?" Out of character for a pirate to attack salvagers? What's he on about?

"He's only attacked Solar Union ships, till now that is. Probably out of some grudge or something against the SU, he did desert."

"Weird." And that's understating it. People like their patterns.

"But…" Charles begins before pausing. He seems uncomfortable with what he's about to say next. "What should be done with the pirates? We don't exactly have the manpower to keep three dozen pirates under lock and key but we can't just leave them, can we?"

-[ ] "Let them go, they're not gonna get very far with a damaged ship anyways."
-[ ] "Space 'em."
-[ ] Write in

~~~~~~~

"You are Commander Vonkartha, yes?" The sharp and angular man on your screen stares at you, a blank expression on his face with a tiny, miniscule, hint of disdain. His accent is rich and sharp, much like his features, pronouncing every syllable with a precise and accurate manner. You get the impression that he's a bit of a dick. He's also the commander of the Haagricorp ships.

"You got him." You reply, confirming your identity.

"I am Commander Bradlen of the 7th Haagricorp Light Escorts. We have been assigned by Robecca Harnought, the true heiress, to protect you from pirate threats." It's clear that the only reason he's even here is that he doesn't want to disobey his mistress. You mentally note his use of 'true heiress', perhaps Haagricorp is building up to something of a succession crisis?

"Welcome to the shitshow," you take some joy from the slight twitching of his eye as you swear, "Commander Bradlen."

"Indeed." He releases a minute sigh.

"This feels like the start of a beautiful working relationship." You grin at him as he stares back.

"Indeed." He says again, even wearier.

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: Medical reasons kept me from writing yesterday, but I have a new update for you today! Voting will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST.

Happy New Year!

"I reckon it's a good thing that you didn't kill 'im." Janna comments as you watch the Hoplite get loaded into the launch bays. "Wouldn't 'ave gotten the 'spoils of war'." She nods towards the towering machine, its menacing cannons stowed away for now.

"I totally could've gotten just the cockpit," you reply, leaning on the railing, "I'm precise enough for it."

She eyes you, "Without a melee guider? Really?" It doesn't look like she believes you, at least not entirely.

"Without a melee guider." You assert, nodding both to her and yourself.

What's your opinion on melee guidance computers?
[ ] "I think that they're a crutch. They remove all the skill in melee, leaving their users defenceless should it go down. If my enemies want to make that mistake, let them. But no soldier of mine will."
[ ] "I don't really like using them myself, but if someone else wants to, who am I to stop them?"
[ ] "The only reason I don't have one right now is 'cause I haven't had a chance to put one in."

~~~~~~~

"Here's what we'll do." You say to Charles as you go over the plan to deal with the pirates. "We have a bunch of restraints, right?"

He nods. "Not proper restraints, but hauling line'll do it good enough, at least it should."

"Good, shackle 'em all up together." You pull up a picture of a lifeboat, one of the ones you've got leftover from the wreck of the David's Horn. "And then stuff 'em in here. That way, we won't have to waste manpower guarding them!" You pause with a grin, tapping the lifeboat's picture as

Charles hmms, rubbing at his wrinkled face as he thinks it over. "What if they try and escape using the lifeboat? I know it's a stupid desicion, but…" he grimaces leadingly, "these are pirates we're talking here."

"Well, they won't get very far if they do that. And besides, with their ship seized, there's nowhere to run, allowing us to easily turn them in for a bounty."

"So," he nods, "we're taking their ship for ourselves, then?"

"That's the plan." All you'll have to do is plug the ship's ID tag, which identifies it as the Rocking Harrier, in at a SU facility and boom, you've got yourself another ship. Well, officially gotten yourself another ship, as it'll be registered under your name, or, more likely, under the company's name.

"What're you gonna do with it?" A raised eyebrow greets you as you turn your attention back to Charles. "Gonna sell it off or something?"

[ ] "Gonna hold onto it, maybe I'll start a shipping company or something. Or I'll just use it to carry around my stuff."
[ ] "Gonna sell it off, fuel's expensive, you know."
[ ] "Or something, not too sure what I want to do with it yet."

(Ship Gained: Rocking Harrier: A cargo hauler that had a trio of external launch bays bolted on. Without those, the ship has no MBF capabilities or ship-to-ship offensive ability, relying on its escorts and PD Turrets to protect it.)

~~~~~~~

"Boss!" Janna comes stumbling around the corner, nearly tripping as you're halfway through your room's door. "We did it!" She's red in the face, breathing heavily as she leans against the wall.

"You did what?" You ask, your sleepy mind sluggishly turning gears.

"We did it!" She repeats, slowly recovering as she rises. "We got the ship flyable!"

You blink, "Oh."

She laughs, wheezing. "I've been running around the ship lookin' for you!"

(Ship is now flyable)

~~~~~~~

End of Day Report
-Crew Roll: 98 (lads, what are you doing!?)
A drillbit operator, while doing a little bit of personal excavating, stumbled across a large asteroid made of rare materials. He brought it to Charles' attention, who brought it to yours.
(Gain 1 Intel: Profitable Asteroids)
The crew also managed to strip some more intel from the pirate computers
(Gain 2 Intel: Pirates)
-1 Day left till the Sniper is complete
-Thunder is unrepairable right now, not enough spare armor
-Ship's Flyable
-Haagricorp Escorts have Arrived

What do you do tomorrow? Pick up to 3
[ ] Modify MBFs
-[ ] Which MBF/s (Write in)
--[ ] Which part/s (Write in)
[ ] Ship's ready to fly, start those engines and get going! (Freebie)
[ ] Invigorate the crew with an inspiring speech
[ ] You're gonna need somebody to pilot that Hoplite. Hold try-outs amongst the crew to see if they have any skill or talent.
[ ] Hold interviews with the crew, see if any of them are worthy of officer positions in your crew
[ ] Get some time in the sims
-[ ] Train with someone else? Write in (You may choose as many as you want from your pilots)
-[ ] Train by yourself
[ ] Study active pilots, just in case you encounter them in the future
-[ ] Focus on someone?
--[ ] Buckshaw
--[ ] Write in
-[ ] Just general studying
[ ] Research the great officers of history, see how they lead their men to victory (Chance to earn progress for Trait: Marshal in Training)

~~~~~~~

QM's Note: Alrighty, apologies for lateness and shortness, I had been struggling with sleep and a minor writer's block for this quest, fortunately, I've squashed it. Voting will be called tomorrow at 4 PM CST.

The ship shudders under your feet as its engines, newly rebuilt, ignite and starts inching forwards.

A grin creeps its way across your face as you stand on the bridge, your hands clasped behind your back. You can almost feel the ship's engines humming beneath your boots as acceleration takes hold.

And then, just like that, you're moving. The Rocking Harrier's behind you with the two Haagricorp ships guarding the flanks, keeping you and your new ships safe from harm. Or at least, as safe from harm as possible.

It's like a breath of fresh, actually fresh, air to finally watch those asteroids shrink in the rear cameras. With every dozen miles you put between it and you, you feel your shoulders ease-up and relax. Your jaw, you realize, is rather sore from the constant clenching and grinding.

~~~~~~~

Regardless of how relaxed you feel, you've still got some work to do.

Namely, running a bunch of interviewees through their paces in a simpod. The ship has 12 simpods on it, enough for a full Squadron, 3 4-MBF Flights or 4 3-MBF Flights, to be trained at all times. With this amount of pods, you can keep your pilots in shape and have their back-ups training.

Back-up pilots are a good thing to have. After all, you wouldn't want to have the guy who's got a bad case of indigestion be at the controls of a high performance machine while performing a high stress job. So, while he's glued to the porcelain throne, you can still have your full MBF complement at the ready.

(Are there any good pilots? 55, 5, 95)

Of course, your current batch of potential recruits, as you've got a seat in a Hoplite that needs filling, is rather lackluster. It's slim pickings out here, but you weren't expecting much from a bunch of civilian pilots whose only experience is from messing around in simpods and salvagers.

Out of a dozen applications, three stood out from the pack.

The first, a Lunarian man by the name of Phone Holder, who not only possesses an interesting name but also has some experience with e-warfare, specifically in the communications side of things. He showed decent skill at the controls, slightly better than most pilots. If he had joined a military unit, he'd have likely made it to Flight command. He's also the Drillbit operator who found those asteroids.

The second, a young and bright-eyed lad by the name of Art, is here less for how skillful he is and more for how bad he is. He's more a danger to himself and his allies than the enemy. Not many pilots, even completely green ones, are capable of completely demolishing an entire Flight by himself with minimal damage taken, even if it was a friendly Flight. He shows great potential, but that potential is going to need a lot of training to make any actual use of it.

And the third, a little old lady by the name of Gertrude, actually has a lot of combat experience. She, apparently, served in the last major SU-Martian war, about 40 years back, where she scored 30 confirmed kills. And she hasn't lost much of her edge since, if the skills she showed in the sims match with reality. She even brought you cookies, where she got the ingredients you're not sure, but they were fresh. However, she is horribly racist towards Martians and Proxim.

Which of these three do you want to hire as the Hoplite's pilot?
[ ] Phone Holder
[ ] Art Samuels
[ ] Gertrude Gilly
[ ] None, you'll hire someone else later

Would you like to hire any as back-up pilots?(Back-up pilots are paid as much as a grunt, but will become pilots should an MBF become available.)
[ ] Yes (You may pick as many as you want)
-[ ] Phone Holder
-[ ] Art Samuels
-[ ] Gertrude Gilly
[ ] No

~~~~~~~

Of course, you also hold interviews amongst the crew to see if any meet your officer standards.

(Are any good officer material? 18, 17, 63)

Unfortunately, with the deaths of the David Horn's bridge crew, most of the officer material crew is currently dead.

Of the applicants, only one showed any actual potential. That applicant would be Russel Winters, the current standing Chief Medical Officer by dint of being the only medical personnel remaining.

He's at least half a decade younger than you, fresh out of med school but already bearing the eyes of a seasoned professional.

Do you want to hire him on as your CMO?
[ ] Yes
[ ] No

Charles also showed up, though he wasn't applying, at least not yet. He came in to tell you that he would consider it once Captain Kamilla woke back up.

~~~~~~~

The chair rocks back, dangerously so, as you throw yourself into it. You've had an interesting day so far, but it's not over yet.

You power on the computer, the aging machine's monitor opens up to a welcome message. You click through the startup sequence, rushing through it as you don't really care all that much about the settings and their specifics.

Finally, you find yourself at the main menu.

(Contacts Roll DC 65,95: 42+25=67, success)

And navigate to the search function, where you type in the address for a site a friend of yours runs. Leonis Wehthrows, that's his name. He's a military historian specializing in the First and Second Martian Wars of Independence, though he does like to delve into strategy and tactics on occasion.

After waiting for the signal to reach the nearest relay beacon, which took 25 or so minutes, you started researching.

(Research Roll DC 55: 59, success)

Bruce "The Martian" Willingstone and Gray "Greyhound" Chaser, the first two Ace of Aces and heroes, or villains, depending on who or ask, of the First and Second Martian Wars of Independence, back in the 2250s. Both of them scored over 500 confirmed kills during them and, in doing so, set the standard for the Ace of Aces to come after them, of which there were only three.

Willingstone was a prodigy of melee combat, outfighting his foes even in a machine that was horribly outdated even in a time where MBFs were only just coming into play. His legacy leaves a legend that refuses to be put to rest. Even now, over 700 years later, there are still people claiming to have seen the 'Martian Revenant' and his ancient machine.

Chaser was a legend, pushing his machines to their utter limits. He set records that would only be broken a century later, with the onset of special g-force resistant suits. He and Willingstone danced across battlefield after battlefield, Chaser's superior speed and prodigious piloting ability vs Willingstone's impeccable timing and sheer combat skill.

They were both excellent commanders of their forces, pioneering the methods by which MBF warfare is fought, at high speeds and high lethality. A lot of it doesn't apply to your situation, things like resource denial for the most part; it's not likely that you'd fight the same enemy twice, though it is possible on an extended contract. But that doesn't mean there aren't lessons to be learned.

You learn much from studying them, but you know that there is so much more out there, so much more you can use to better yourself. But for now, until you can get a better connection with which to do a deep dive, this will have to be enough.

(+1 to Trait: Martial in Training. Trait: Martial in Training now unlocked)

~~~~~~~

Days left till you return to the Orbital Plate: 3
(Pirate Interrupt? 15, no, not yet)

End of Day Report
Crew Roll: 64
Some of the crew held a karaoke concert, invigorating the rest of the crew and giving them hope. You decided to join in, because why not have some fun?

(How'd you do? 100, buwah
99+0=99, jizzimus crizzimus)

It turns out, you had something of a singing career… until you screwed it up. Turns out, a voice ravaged by a bad smoking habit doesn't lend itself well to high notes.

(Gain Trait: Almost-Professional Singer: You had a voice like melted butter, at least until the cigs got at it. You still have a nice voice and boy can you sing, it just really, really strains your voice to do so. You also still have some contacts in the industry. +35 to Performance rolls and +5 to Contacts rolls. Also gain a once-per-update ability to reroll a failed Social check. Some people may recognize you from your short-lived career.)

What do you do tomorrow? Pick up to 3
[ ] Modify MBFs
-[ ] Which MBF/s (Write in)
--[ ] Which part/s (Write in)
[ ] Invigorate the crew with an inspiring speech
[ ] Get some time in the sims
-[ ] Train with someone else? Write in (You may choose as many as you want from your pilots)
-[ ] Train by yourself
[ ] Study active pilots, just in case you encounter them in the future
-[ ] Focus on someone?
--[ ] Buckshaw
--[ ] Write in
-[ ] Just general studying
[ ] Janna seems to have finished with that disk…
[ ] Coinflip Event (Has a chance of being either really good or really bad, do you feel lucky?)
[ ] Make a call to someone. Who?
-[ ] Discount Dan
-[ ] Write in
[ ] Write in

~~~~~~~~

QM's Note: and done. Voting will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST. School's started back up once more.

You step into the half-cargo bay half-mess hall. You had an announcement rolling around the ship, calling for all the crew in non-essential jobs to come to cargo, and boy did they come.

Crowded around you are about 30-40 off-duty crew, still sweaty and dirty from a half-day of work. There's technicians stripped to the waist, arms crossed and their light tank tops drying in the cooler cargo air. Alongside the tech-heads are the more technical crewmembers, those assigned to manning the bridge and more custodial duties.

They're all gathered here, looking up at you as you climb on top of a crate provided for this reason. Looking into the crowd, you see some familiar faces. There's nearly all of your Company here, save for Winters as he's currently preoccupied with patching up a techie that took his palm off with a cutter.

You called them here for one reason and one reason only: to give them a speech.

They look upon you with expectation as you mentally center yourself. With a deep breath, you begin.

(Leadership Roll DC 40: 96+5=101, success
80+1=81, double success)

"You hired me as a protector, a warrior to defend your lives and livelihood." You begin, words soft in volume yet strong in purpose. "You paid me to keep your lives safe, to stop the cruel outside from tearing you to pieces." You halt, hesitating for a mere second. "You spent your hard earned money on a person you thought was going to save you."

You stare, looking them each in the eye as you carry on.

"But I failed." That draws a reaction as feelings of vague agreement grumble through them, feelings that have been forming since the David's Horn died. "And I am sorry."

You push forth as the grumbles grow louder. "I am sorry that your ship was destroyed. I am sorry that your friends are gone. I am sorry that my failure cost you the guidance of your captain in these trying times."

"But…" You push past their rising voices, your own rising with them, still working towards a goal.

(Leadership Roll DC 50: 90+5=95, success)

"But it's not over." That gives them pause, if only for a moment. Angry, disgruntled voices quiet down as you pass by. "Not by a long shot."

"We've shed blood, we've shed tears, we've shed sweat by the barrel full as we fought. We fought to survive, to cling to life even as those that took your ship and friends from you tried to do it again."

"But we're still here, still standing. Bloodied but unbowed." You finish, preparing to move on. The audience is with you now, voices once disgruntled now raised in vocal support. It's time to bring it all home.

(Leadership Roll DC 60: 100+5=105, success
99+5=104, double success
63+4=67, triple success)

"And we're not EVER!" You shout, your voice rising along with a fist clenched into a tight ball. "EVER going to bow!" You snarl, almost growling. "Not to the likes of a marauder, not to those that demand your service while giving nothing in return, and certainly not to a fucking pirate!"

The crowd is on your side, there's no doubt about that. A cheer rises up from the back, likely from one of those already favoring you.

After the speech is over, you point out Gertrude, Smitty, and Kellows from the crowd. "You're with me, we're doing a training exercise." You grin a most wicked grin, one mirrored by Margarat.

(The crew holds you in a favorable light and will now work that much harder. Crew will now perform 2 crew rolls instead of 1)

~~~~~~~

You, Margarat Kellows, Jasin Smitty, and Gertrude Gilly all sit in simpods as you set up a training sim.

Your fingers dance over buttons and settings as you set up an exercise for you all to go through. Though… your fingers halt over a few different options. Ideas, half-formed, dash across your mind's eye.

What's the training plan?
[ ] PvP
-[ ] Write in (Goal, Teams, and MBFs)
[ ] PvE
-[ ] Write in (Goal, Enemy MBFs, and your team's MBFs)

What's the terrain?
[ ] Asteroid Cluster
[ ] Space Station
[ ] Lunar Surface
[ ] Pre-Space Earth City

And of course, once you're in the sim, the battle plan itself. Though this one isn't really some
[ ] Plan Name
-[ ] Plan

~~~~~~~

Janna had sent you a missive regarding that spy device you found. Apparently, she's cracked it and now you're heading on over there to talk to her about it.

Technicians nod as you pass by, heading to the area of the launch bays that's been sequestered off by Janna. For personal usage as a workshop, as Janna had said when you asked her about it.

Shifting aside a hanging blanket that's serving as a door, it's white with red polka dots, you step inside to find your green-haired Chief Engineer waiting for you. A grin stretches from ear to ear as she lays eyes on you.

"Boss!" She cheers, the short woman clutching a dataslate in her grease-smeared palm.

"You said you had something for me?" You say, coming to a halt next to her.

The Chief Engineer nods, handing the dataslate to you. "Took a couple ah tries." She glances over her shoulder at the gutted cylindrical device sitting on her workstation. It's probably the eavesdropper you'd given her, but you can't be one hundred percent certain given the absolutely butchered nature of the object. It's parts are scattered over the table, a piece you suspect is the storage unit suspended in midair by a pair of robotic arms. "But I got it done without too much trouble." She scratches the back of her head, her hair scrunching up in the process.

"Looks like." You comment, starting to scroll through the slate. "I know you took a search through here already, so why don't you go ahead and enlighten me on the good stuff?"

Janna grins, happy to share. "The encryption wasn't that challengin', surprisin'ly so for what I'm assumin' to be some big ol' secret group. But, well, it prob'ly doesn't really need all that much as there's nothin' in there about the owner, though I'm bettin' that the SUSI were doin' it." You nod along as she rambles a tad. "Regardin' the stuff that's actually in there, I think the merchants who owned the old girl might 'ave been doin' a little bit of smugglin'. 'Fore the pirates got 'er, that is."

"Smuggling?" If there's any information on what they were smuggling and where they were taking it to, it could be very valuable. "Any word on the contents? And where it was being taken?"

"Get this," she leans in, a sparkle in her eyes and a wide smile on her face, "they were 'aulin' military grade gear. Fresh off Mercury's assembly lines. And I'm not just talkin' MBF stuff 'ere, like that targeter you found, I'm talkin' 'bout all sorts of stuff. Lotta infantry gear as far as I can tell, as well as some ground vehicles."

"That's…" You start running rough calculations through your head. "That could be a lot of merchandise, 'specially for a start-up like ourselves."

She nods, fervently. "That's what I was thinkin'. But…" her face sours, "well, there's a problem with it."

You sigh, never anything good without a catch, is there? "What is it?"

"It's on Titan." Yeah, yeah that'll do it.

"Fuck me." You swear, nearly dropping the dataslate. "Fucking Titan? Really?"

"Yep."

"Who in De's eight chambered heart was crazy enough to think that arming the fucking Titanites was a good idea? They're only gonna use it to be massive dicks!"

"These idiots, apparently." She points at the dataslate. "And not just those morons, apparently there's a whole fuckin' syndicate of 'em! All runnin' gear to Titan."

"Well," you offer, shaking your head, "at least we know that they exist."

"So we can shank them for their loot." Your Chief Engineer nods with a grin.

"So we can shank them for their loot." You affirm, sporting a matching grin of your own.

(Quest: Bugged by a Bug is now complete. Janna gains +3 Opinion of you and you gain 2 Intel on Titan's Smuggling Ring.)

~~~~~~~

QM's Note: I'm not super happy with this update, but it's late enough as it is so whatever. For all that it takes me to actually start writing, it never seems to take much time at all to actually write.

Voting will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST.

Q: Who are the SUSI?
A: They're the Solar Union Secret Intelligence, the branch of the Solar Union dedicated to intelligence gathering and… dealing… with things they determine to potentially be threats to the Solar Union. The BKA (Bureau of Killings Abroad) are the more well-known division, as they're the ones that deal with assassinating targets and defending targets from assassinations.

Your neck pops as you roll it, preparing for the fight ahead. It's gonna be a tough one, you can feel it in your bones.

But it's a necessary trial, you have to bring everyone to do at least something resembling teamwork—and you don't have a lot of time to do it.

Gripping the controls, you jiggle them about to make sure everything feels right. The screen slowly begins lighting up as space is revealed to you.

Twisting your Corsair around, your teammates come into view, silhouetted against the lights of the ship. Alright, it's time to split things up into wingmates, this way you'll be able to cover multiple targets at once and promote teamwork between them.

Now, who to pair with who?

(Pirate Interrupt? 1…Well, shit)

The utter stream of vitriol that spews from your mouth is awe-inspiring. The sheer vulgarity and complexity of your words could write epics.

The simpod powers down around you as klaxons blare in your ears, the seat ejecting you as urgent notifications scream.

You are pissed. At the world, at the alarms, at the simpods, at everything and anything.

And at the apparent hail from Captain-fucking-Buckshaw waiting for you on the bridge. You're in open space, how the hell did he sneak up on you!?

Whatever, you've still got to respond… unless…

Well, your machine is right there, only a few doors down from the sim chambers. Maybe you don't even need to talk to him

[ ] Fucking… go and talk to the fucker, see what the hell he wants. Hey, maybe there'll be a way to get out of this without bloodshed?
[ ] Fuck it. Get in your Corsair and tear this asshole a new one.
-[ ] Plan Name
--[ ] Plan

Terrain: Open Space, no cover besides potential debris.
Foes:
4 Pirate Ships (3 repurposed freighters (Grade 1 Everything) and 1 Unidentified Destroyer (Grade 3 Armaments, Grade 3 Armaments, Grade 2 Engines)
4 MBFs on the Destroyer (2 AA/Spearmans, 1 AA/Arbalest, 1 Unknown (Presumed Captain Buckshaw))
4/5/3 MBFs on each freighter (4 MI/Grunt, 6 Modified JD/Klaws, 2 MI/Footsoldiers)
Friends:
2 Haagricorp Destroyer Escorts (Grade 4 Armament, Grade 2 Armor, Grade 3 Engines)
HGS Cottonbell (2 CS/Commandos, 1 CS/Counterstrike)
HGS Rosehip (2 CS/Commandos, 1 CS/Counterstrike (Commander Bradlen))
Commander Bradlen piloting a CS/Counterstrike with +35 Combat

~~~~~~~

QM's Note: Voting will be called tomorrow at 4 PM CST

This was supposed to be longer, much longer—but, well, fucking dice

Between Itza from In Service and Sam from this, it's pretty clear which protagonist the dice gods favor, lmao.