- Pronouns
- They/He
oh no
oh bad things might be happening
I don't know what to do
someone get the dice god sacrifices
quick
oh bad things might be happening
I don't know what to do
someone get the dice god sacrifices
quick
A Hive for The Galaxy (Sci-Fi CK2-style Quest)
- Thread starter The Laurent
- Start date
- Original
-
- Tags
- science fiction ck2 quest
Gang War pt. 2
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Another Meaning of "Gang War."
[x] Broadcast a message to the people, reassuring them of their safety and that things are under control and allowing questions and the like.
[X] Etc.
Vorzhan knew who the real targets were, both for him and those he opposed. These criminals, whom despite their different affiliations had gotten together in a rather suspicious way, wanted him dead and wanted any new order discredited, wanted that chaos: if they'd killed him, perhaps it would have happened, but he suspected that Kikkizit would simply take over, however reluctantly. From the start, their only chance was a false one, but there was a lot of chaos and disbelief they could sew.
And so the people needed to hear from them. It was a quick matter to hack into the feed, and he'd say to the driver as the guards piled in, right behind and around and in front of him, taking no chances, "Go, I'll be talking…" They settled themselves down on the seat with a slight grunt, and shifted their clothes, moving their arm so it wouldn't be as visible. They were dressed simply, and luckily for appearances in darker colors, their head-wing providing the right amount of contrast.
(Talk to Them All (Don't Panic): 1d100+19+5+5=52
"Greetings, Citizens of Gazinitah. Criminals, smugglers, and murderers seek now to attack our peace and undo the progress that has been made. But even now, we shall act, even now the enemies besieging our forces will be attacked, and those who would place crime above the wellbeing of our people, The people, shall be punished." Vorzhan felt bad for lying, and yet the truth, that they were giving orders that very moment contradictory to their words, would have given away a perfectly good hand.
"I ask that you do not panic, that you stay inside and provide neither aid nor comfort to those who would do us harm. I am open for questions as to these events, which seem to be a result of investigations into their illicit and harmful activities."
People were running, screams echoed, others, many others, were watching. Including some that shouldn't be, near an area of danger, staring into their personal computers, held in a hand, watching Vorzhan's words.
"But with the help of the military and our defense forces, they shall be pushed back, arrested when it is possible, and tried under fair and impartial juries that will come up with sentences that are in no way untoward. You all know of my actions thus far in this regard, and I hope we shall see through this current unrest happily and dutifully…
*****
"You all know of my actions thus far," Vorzhan said on the holocast. A figure sat in a den shaking their head and getting up, their legs twitching with nervousness as they made a guess, a very simple guess. Vorzhan was lying. Vorzhan was acting too quickly already, and a moment later they began to name the gangs involved, one by one detailing their major crimes. Gizinkh needed to get out of there before--
(Arrest the Ringleaders 1d100+16+29+10 (Complete surprise)=80
"Hands in the air!" A woman said from behind the counter of the den, as a dozen other figures burst in. There was a scream, and a few tried to run, but Gizinkh didn't, instead complying, eyes twitching even more than their legs. Shit and fury.
One of her men went for a gun, and got shot in the arm for their trouble. They let out a breath, and a whistle, "Stand. Down. They've won."
All across the world a thousand scenes like this occurred. Like this, but not quite the same. In some they fought back, or run, and several even managed to get out of the building they'd been carefully caught in, though not far beyond that. It was big, bigger than any one person could monitor, deaths and lives and actions on a scale never before seen. No previous government would have imagined a single strike like this, and yet it was smaller than what Vorzhan had planned, if the mobs and gangs and illicit organizations had not struck first, so very futilely…"
*****
The order was given. Weapons free.
(1d100+16 (Martial average)+15 (Weaponry advantage)+10 (Morale advantage)+20 (Fortifications) +30 (Training advantage) vs. 1d100+12+10 (Mobility)-20 (Shit weapons, shit morale)-10 (Shit training)=1d100+91 vs. 1d100-8=109 vs. 52)
And they hesitated, firing only after a moment's thought. People would die, and the defense forces remembered not firing, and how much worse the world might have been if they had. But, the gang-bangers, the mob, the disorganized soldiers made the decision easy by their own competence. They held together, used cover, and fired plenty of shots into the fortifications. Not everywhere, in some places they were disorganized by the lack of one or more of the gangs which had decided against getting involved, but across the planet the ad-hoc army fired plenty of shots, including some with weaponry that was almost military grade. And the military replied in force. Hundreds died, and hundreds more surrendered, and all across the world military units sallied out to capture the wounded, and then beat a fighting retreat back into the bases. A few died, accidents or sheer weight of fire, and the fortifications were scuffed up, but ultimately it was one-sided.
At one base, XV-784, Den-Commander Izrisan scanned the horizons. It was dark there, the day having slipped into night an hour before. An hour of desperate fighting. The base was scarred, an explosive having almost made a breach on the south side, but it was well-placed. A, well, a killing zone sat around the base, and except for the North, there were no buildings nearby. She knew that this was so that rioters could be gunned down if need be, but it wasn't a fact that she needed to think about right now. She let out a whistle, 'Keep sharp' and cradled her gun. Were they done? They leaned forward, and their Infrared vision picked up…
A rocket almost interrupted her thoughts forever, and hundreds of troops surged forward from the North, from a grotto, a bit of rock that they'd explored and found nothing when they'd last done an inspection. Someone had dug a path, perhaps? Either way...and then there was a loud rumbling, a noise that Izirisan knew from training. Tank!
(Tanks and Troops, Reaction: 1d100+16+5 (Infrared)-10 (Surprise)=61
"Gezig, get to the armory, grab the big-guns there, especially the Antigs" she ordered, firing a shot and ducking as a welter of fire. Military-grade fire. Her men moved, shooting at the troops first, as the tank fired a shot against the wall, blasting open a hole. The enemy's soldiers moved with surprising coordination, heading towards the entrance, and all of the firing of the world couldn't repair the breach, opened further with rocket-launchers. Dozens of enemies fell, but it was dozens out of--the targeting systems assessed it to be nearly four-hundred attackers, armed and armored in a manner almost equal to the average soldier.
Of course, this wasn't an average base, and the only possibility was that they knew that too. The machine-guns of the hover-tank, which advanced all the way up to the breech, suppressed them as they all ducked to avoid death. A dozen shots at that sort of speed could eat through shield generators with remarkable ease. Into the courtyard the invading army went, and Izirisan hoped that THEY were simply watching and waiting.
(A Group Like Few Others: 1d100+22+15 (Cybernetic Enhancements)+5 (Waiting)=125, fucking finally!)
As they spilled into the courtyard, there was but a moment's pause and then a dozen heads exploded as one. Snipers! Backup, at last. The Aroane Special Group called this one of their bases--in secret, of course--and Izirisan had been trying to hail them for the past hour with no success. But now from inside the base shots came, decapitating the leadership, leaving it milling, confused, firing at the shadows of the base, in the open training ground, now yet another killing ground. Izirisan let out a high whistle, piercing the chaos and screaming and her men moved downward, off of the heights they had been trapped in, shooting, firing at the enemy, pushing through, even as dozens stormed out of the base, more of their troops, several of them carrying rocket-launchers. They ducked and weaved, seeming to know exactly when a shot was coming from the base, and knowing how not to get in the way of the Special Group at work.
It was a madhouse, and yet watching the Den-Commander could see logic and sense, could see them falling apart. Taking a few with them, sure, and their rate of fire and aim was greater than she'd feared, but ultimately it was falling apart without their rulers to drive them forward.
(No TANKS: 1d100+30 (Multiple Launchers)+18 (Personal Combat)+10 (Training)+15 (Morale) vs. 1d100+15 (A tank)+12 (Martial)-10 (Morale), -10 (Lack of Training)=1d100+73 vs. 1d100+7=114 vs. 91, well, it's a victory.)
The ones with the portable launchers got into position and fired, first the one on the far left to draw the hover-tank's fire, and it succeeded. But the shot didn't get through the shields, and on the next shot, barely had it gotten off, slamming into the tank, that the tank mowed down the person making the shot, but by then another hit, and another, as the first reloaded and the firing continued, breaking through the shield in a barrage, as the tank desperately rammed at the walls, trying to break through in some desperate attempt to...what?
A lucky shot hit the bottom of the tank, and part of the hover-system went out. As it collapsed, the driver tried to bail out, holding a rifle, pointing it upward, screaming invectives, a low growling-whistle, four legs planted firmly, ready for an end.
Izirisan obliged them. One shot through the chest, one kill.
It was so simple, and yet so final. But there wasn't the time to try to capture him, and surely someone else would explain...how one of the military's own outdated tanks had wound up in working order and under command of gangsters.
In Space: Hazitean POV
The blackness of the void was spinning. Or perhaps that was simply because Hazitean refused to let go of the 'rotate' button on the star map, staring into it with fascination and frustration, "How much longer?"
"We're gaining on them," the Captain said, looking around the bridge, buried of course in the core of the ship. Everyone else was working, but Hazitean had been simply sitting around, occasionally sending out messages, as the stern-chase continued. Not a long one, but a few dozen minutes. It bored her immensely, and she knew she wouldn't have a say in anything until those two ships were done with. Finish those, and then the base was hers. And after that, she could take some Miflis. She was too keyed up, so much so that the huge Xvorzit was unable to even more for fear of running wild. Half-unconsciousness was better than full consciousness when the griplies closed in and began clawing her chitin away bit by bit. They were watching her, though. Watching and judging.
She needed to be strong. She'd show all of them, and if they tried to attack her now they'd see her defenses and her prowess in action.
"This is the Gazinitah, to GZ 203-C, and the Star, you are soon to be within range of our main cannons, and a single shot will strip your shields. Two will destroy our ship. Surrender, and you shall be granted all possible mercy," The Captain said, carefully, "We will not hesitate to fire a warning shot to strip you of your shields. Your advantage of speed is no use: we know your destination."
(Surrender! Needed: ???, ??? Rolled:1d100+15 (Diplomacy) -10 (Desperation) +5 (Outclassed) +5 (Options)=1d100+15=54, not your lucky day.)
"This is GZ 203-C, striking shield and surrendering. We were given...incorrect data and thought we were acting under orders," the captain of the ship whined in protest.
Hazitean laughed, and the Captain glared at her. "It's a lie, but we'll accept it. Now…" he gave a hacking cough and said, "GZ 203-C, you are to return to fleet position. Do you have any idea on the Star?"
"No, uh, Sir. They're the ones that told me this was orders…"
"Very well," they said, and cut off communications, turning their head towards the navigator, "How likely are they to escape?"
"They won't," Hazitean snapped, "He told that to you ten minutes ago. Unless he's a traitor who is attempting to deceive us to allow his allies to escape. In which case I'll kill him." She drew her pistol, just as a friendly way to demonstrate the method...and yet they all tensed and backed away from her, like she scared them. Bunch of cowards. Call themselves a navy?
"Firing pass beginning...now," one of the ensigns said, and a moment later the monitors updated. The frigate had shot everything it could at the shield and done nothing, and now it lay there, shield shredded, a few missiles having scarred its surface, but the bulk of the weapons lay unfired, trying not to destroy it.
Hazitean watched the monitors, the combat pass over as fast as she remembered. Now they turned, trying to intercept the ship and then hit the moon, demands of surrender. But the moment she saw its heading she knew it wouldn't surrender. "The moon," she said, quietly, as all turned to listen, "They're going to hide behind it, play some sort of game of tag with us, threaten us by proxy."
"Then...should we call our smaller ships? Their shield's down for a while, hours and hours at least, we could get them under their guns," the Captain suggested.
"But wouldn't that just give them time to evacuate the moon base? Make a run for it?" one of the crew-members asked, buzzing and chirring, moving forward. Decisions of this kind were often communal and group based.
But not this time. Hazitean rose to her full, huge height, and kicked her front legs impatiently, chittering out words fast and deep, "It is simple. I am in charge here, it is my force that will have to strike and take the risks here. They are the ones in danger. I shall make the decision. Now what we're do is…"
What?
[] Wait for the other ships to come and take out the threat of the frigate, which might pop around the edge of the moon or provide covering fire/aid to the defenders of the moon base. Less risk, but documents might be destroyed, and there's a chance they could rabbit. Lower risk of casualties, lower reward.
[] Send gunships and drop-ships to the margins, away from the base's defenses but risking some retaliation from the frigate, though it'd have to risk itself to do so. Then hike to the base and take it. Troops will be armored in medium and light power-armor. Medium risk, medium reward.
[] Use gunships and drop-ships as distractions, towards the edge of the base, but the main strike will be right on it. Once their defenses are tied up, drop-pods will be deployed with troops in heavy power-armor, the best there is, to break the defenses and capture the evidence. Highest risk of casualties, highest chance of reward.
[x] Broadcast a message to the people, reassuring them of their safety and that things are under control and allowing questions and the like.
[X] Etc.
Vorzhan knew who the real targets were, both for him and those he opposed. These criminals, whom despite their different affiliations had gotten together in a rather suspicious way, wanted him dead and wanted any new order discredited, wanted that chaos: if they'd killed him, perhaps it would have happened, but he suspected that Kikkizit would simply take over, however reluctantly. From the start, their only chance was a false one, but there was a lot of chaos and disbelief they could sew.
And so the people needed to hear from them. It was a quick matter to hack into the feed, and he'd say to the driver as the guards piled in, right behind and around and in front of him, taking no chances, "Go, I'll be talking…" They settled themselves down on the seat with a slight grunt, and shifted their clothes, moving their arm so it wouldn't be as visible. They were dressed simply, and luckily for appearances in darker colors, their head-wing providing the right amount of contrast.
(Talk to Them All (Don't Panic): 1d100+19+5+5=52
"Greetings, Citizens of Gazinitah. Criminals, smugglers, and murderers seek now to attack our peace and undo the progress that has been made. But even now, we shall act, even now the enemies besieging our forces will be attacked, and those who would place crime above the wellbeing of our people, The people, shall be punished." Vorzhan felt bad for lying, and yet the truth, that they were giving orders that very moment contradictory to their words, would have given away a perfectly good hand.
"I ask that you do not panic, that you stay inside and provide neither aid nor comfort to those who would do us harm. I am open for questions as to these events, which seem to be a result of investigations into their illicit and harmful activities."
People were running, screams echoed, others, many others, were watching. Including some that shouldn't be, near an area of danger, staring into their personal computers, held in a hand, watching Vorzhan's words.
"But with the help of the military and our defense forces, they shall be pushed back, arrested when it is possible, and tried under fair and impartial juries that will come up with sentences that are in no way untoward. You all know of my actions thus far in this regard, and I hope we shall see through this current unrest happily and dutifully…
*****
"You all know of my actions thus far," Vorzhan said on the holocast. A figure sat in a den shaking their head and getting up, their legs twitching with nervousness as they made a guess, a very simple guess. Vorzhan was lying. Vorzhan was acting too quickly already, and a moment later they began to name the gangs involved, one by one detailing their major crimes. Gizinkh needed to get out of there before--
(Arrest the Ringleaders 1d100+16+29+10 (Complete surprise)=80
"Hands in the air!" A woman said from behind the counter of the den, as a dozen other figures burst in. There was a scream, and a few tried to run, but Gizinkh didn't, instead complying, eyes twitching even more than their legs. Shit and fury.
One of her men went for a gun, and got shot in the arm for their trouble. They let out a breath, and a whistle, "Stand. Down. They've won."
All across the world a thousand scenes like this occurred. Like this, but not quite the same. In some they fought back, or run, and several even managed to get out of the building they'd been carefully caught in, though not far beyond that. It was big, bigger than any one person could monitor, deaths and lives and actions on a scale never before seen. No previous government would have imagined a single strike like this, and yet it was smaller than what Vorzhan had planned, if the mobs and gangs and illicit organizations had not struck first, so very futilely…"
*****
The order was given. Weapons free.
(1d100+16 (Martial average)+15 (Weaponry advantage)+10 (Morale advantage)+20 (Fortifications) +30 (Training advantage) vs. 1d100+12+10 (Mobility)-20 (Shit weapons, shit morale)-10 (Shit training)=1d100+91 vs. 1d100-8=109 vs. 52)
And they hesitated, firing only after a moment's thought. People would die, and the defense forces remembered not firing, and how much worse the world might have been if they had. But, the gang-bangers, the mob, the disorganized soldiers made the decision easy by their own competence. They held together, used cover, and fired plenty of shots into the fortifications. Not everywhere, in some places they were disorganized by the lack of one or more of the gangs which had decided against getting involved, but across the planet the ad-hoc army fired plenty of shots, including some with weaponry that was almost military grade. And the military replied in force. Hundreds died, and hundreds more surrendered, and all across the world military units sallied out to capture the wounded, and then beat a fighting retreat back into the bases. A few died, accidents or sheer weight of fire, and the fortifications were scuffed up, but ultimately it was one-sided.
At one base, XV-784, Den-Commander Izrisan scanned the horizons. It was dark there, the day having slipped into night an hour before. An hour of desperate fighting. The base was scarred, an explosive having almost made a breach on the south side, but it was well-placed. A, well, a killing zone sat around the base, and except for the North, there were no buildings nearby. She knew that this was so that rioters could be gunned down if need be, but it wasn't a fact that she needed to think about right now. She let out a whistle, 'Keep sharp' and cradled her gun. Were they done? They leaned forward, and their Infrared vision picked up…
A rocket almost interrupted her thoughts forever, and hundreds of troops surged forward from the North, from a grotto, a bit of rock that they'd explored and found nothing when they'd last done an inspection. Someone had dug a path, perhaps? Either way...and then there was a loud rumbling, a noise that Izirisan knew from training. Tank!
(Tanks and Troops, Reaction: 1d100+16+5 (Infrared)-10 (Surprise)=61
"Gezig, get to the armory, grab the big-guns there, especially the Antigs" she ordered, firing a shot and ducking as a welter of fire. Military-grade fire. Her men moved, shooting at the troops first, as the tank fired a shot against the wall, blasting open a hole. The enemy's soldiers moved with surprising coordination, heading towards the entrance, and all of the firing of the world couldn't repair the breach, opened further with rocket-launchers. Dozens of enemies fell, but it was dozens out of--the targeting systems assessed it to be nearly four-hundred attackers, armed and armored in a manner almost equal to the average soldier.
Of course, this wasn't an average base, and the only possibility was that they knew that too. The machine-guns of the hover-tank, which advanced all the way up to the breech, suppressed them as they all ducked to avoid death. A dozen shots at that sort of speed could eat through shield generators with remarkable ease. Into the courtyard the invading army went, and Izirisan hoped that THEY were simply watching and waiting.
(A Group Like Few Others: 1d100+22+15 (Cybernetic Enhancements)+5 (Waiting)=125, fucking finally!)
As they spilled into the courtyard, there was but a moment's pause and then a dozen heads exploded as one. Snipers! Backup, at last. The Aroane Special Group called this one of their bases--in secret, of course--and Izirisan had been trying to hail them for the past hour with no success. But now from inside the base shots came, decapitating the leadership, leaving it milling, confused, firing at the shadows of the base, in the open training ground, now yet another killing ground. Izirisan let out a high whistle, piercing the chaos and screaming and her men moved downward, off of the heights they had been trapped in, shooting, firing at the enemy, pushing through, even as dozens stormed out of the base, more of their troops, several of them carrying rocket-launchers. They ducked and weaved, seeming to know exactly when a shot was coming from the base, and knowing how not to get in the way of the Special Group at work.
It was a madhouse, and yet watching the Den-Commander could see logic and sense, could see them falling apart. Taking a few with them, sure, and their rate of fire and aim was greater than she'd feared, but ultimately it was falling apart without their rulers to drive them forward.
(No TANKS: 1d100+30 (Multiple Launchers)+18 (Personal Combat)+10 (Training)+15 (Morale) vs. 1d100+15 (A tank)+12 (Martial)-10 (Morale), -10 (Lack of Training)=1d100+73 vs. 1d100+7=114 vs. 91, well, it's a victory.)
The ones with the portable launchers got into position and fired, first the one on the far left to draw the hover-tank's fire, and it succeeded. But the shot didn't get through the shields, and on the next shot, barely had it gotten off, slamming into the tank, that the tank mowed down the person making the shot, but by then another hit, and another, as the first reloaded and the firing continued, breaking through the shield in a barrage, as the tank desperately rammed at the walls, trying to break through in some desperate attempt to...what?
A lucky shot hit the bottom of the tank, and part of the hover-system went out. As it collapsed, the driver tried to bail out, holding a rifle, pointing it upward, screaming invectives, a low growling-whistle, four legs planted firmly, ready for an end.
Izirisan obliged them. One shot through the chest, one kill.
It was so simple, and yet so final. But there wasn't the time to try to capture him, and surely someone else would explain...how one of the military's own outdated tanks had wound up in working order and under command of gangsters.
In Space: Hazitean POV
The blackness of the void was spinning. Or perhaps that was simply because Hazitean refused to let go of the 'rotate' button on the star map, staring into it with fascination and frustration, "How much longer?"
"We're gaining on them," the Captain said, looking around the bridge, buried of course in the core of the ship. Everyone else was working, but Hazitean had been simply sitting around, occasionally sending out messages, as the stern-chase continued. Not a long one, but a few dozen minutes. It bored her immensely, and she knew she wouldn't have a say in anything until those two ships were done with. Finish those, and then the base was hers. And after that, she could take some Miflis. She was too keyed up, so much so that the huge Xvorzit was unable to even more for fear of running wild. Half-unconsciousness was better than full consciousness when the griplies closed in and began clawing her chitin away bit by bit. They were watching her, though. Watching and judging.
She needed to be strong. She'd show all of them, and if they tried to attack her now they'd see her defenses and her prowess in action.
"This is the Gazinitah, to GZ 203-C, and the Star, you are soon to be within range of our main cannons, and a single shot will strip your shields. Two will destroy our ship. Surrender, and you shall be granted all possible mercy," The Captain said, carefully, "We will not hesitate to fire a warning shot to strip you of your shields. Your advantage of speed is no use: we know your destination."
(Surrender! Needed: ???, ??? Rolled:1d100+15 (Diplomacy) -10 (Desperation) +5 (Outclassed) +5 (Options)=1d100+15=54, not your lucky day.)
"This is GZ 203-C, striking shield and surrendering. We were given...incorrect data and thought we were acting under orders," the captain of the ship whined in protest.
Hazitean laughed, and the Captain glared at her. "It's a lie, but we'll accept it. Now…" he gave a hacking cough and said, "GZ 203-C, you are to return to fleet position. Do you have any idea on the Star?"
"No, uh, Sir. They're the ones that told me this was orders…"
"Very well," they said, and cut off communications, turning their head towards the navigator, "How likely are they to escape?"
"They won't," Hazitean snapped, "He told that to you ten minutes ago. Unless he's a traitor who is attempting to deceive us to allow his allies to escape. In which case I'll kill him." She drew her pistol, just as a friendly way to demonstrate the method...and yet they all tensed and backed away from her, like she scared them. Bunch of cowards. Call themselves a navy?
"Firing pass beginning...now," one of the ensigns said, and a moment later the monitors updated. The frigate had shot everything it could at the shield and done nothing, and now it lay there, shield shredded, a few missiles having scarred its surface, but the bulk of the weapons lay unfired, trying not to destroy it.
Hazitean watched the monitors, the combat pass over as fast as she remembered. Now they turned, trying to intercept the ship and then hit the moon, demands of surrender. But the moment she saw its heading she knew it wouldn't surrender. "The moon," she said, quietly, as all turned to listen, "They're going to hide behind it, play some sort of game of tag with us, threaten us by proxy."
"Then...should we call our smaller ships? Their shield's down for a while, hours and hours at least, we could get them under their guns," the Captain suggested.
"But wouldn't that just give them time to evacuate the moon base? Make a run for it?" one of the crew-members asked, buzzing and chirring, moving forward. Decisions of this kind were often communal and group based.
But not this time. Hazitean rose to her full, huge height, and kicked her front legs impatiently, chittering out words fast and deep, "It is simple. I am in charge here, it is my force that will have to strike and take the risks here. They are the ones in danger. I shall make the decision. Now what we're do is…"
What?
[] Wait for the other ships to come and take out the threat of the frigate, which might pop around the edge of the moon or provide covering fire/aid to the defenders of the moon base. Less risk, but documents might be destroyed, and there's a chance they could rabbit. Lower risk of casualties, lower reward.
[] Send gunships and drop-ships to the margins, away from the base's defenses but risking some retaliation from the frigate, though it'd have to risk itself to do so. Then hike to the base and take it. Troops will be armored in medium and light power-armor. Medium risk, medium reward.
[] Use gunships and drop-ships as distractions, towards the edge of the base, but the main strike will be right on it. Once their defenses are tied up, drop-pods will be deployed with troops in heavy power-armor, the best there is, to break the defenses and capture the evidence. Highest risk of casualties, highest chance of reward.
Dammit.
[X] Use gunships and drop-ships as distractions, towards the edge of the base, but the main strike will be right on it. Once their defenses are tied up, drop-pods will be deployed with troops in heavy power-armor, the best there is, to break the defenses and capture the evidence. Highest risk of casualties, highest chance of reward.
We need some goddamned intel or this is an expensive waste of time.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Only one got into their hands. You needed a 30, you got a 39. A 50 would have made sure *none* got into the wrong hands.
Below a 30 but above a twenty would be 2-3, below that 4-5.
- Location
- Dreiländereck
[X] Send gunships and drop-ships to the margins, away from the base's defenses but risking some retaliation from the frigate, though it'd have to risk itself to do so. Then hike to the base and take it. Troops will be armored in medium and light power-armor. Medium risk, medium reward.
I am tempted to go for the high risk option but I think we should play it safer.
I am tempted to go for the high risk option but I think we should play it safer.
- Pronouns
- They/He
[X] Use gunships and drop-ships as distractions, towards the edge of the base, but the main strike will be right on it. Once their defenses are tied up, drop-pods will be deployed with troops in heavy power-armor, the best there is, to break the defenses and capture the evidence. Highest risk of casualties, highest chance of reward.
- Location
- Canada
[X] Use gunships and drop-ships as distractions, towards the edge of the base, but the main strike will be right on it. Once their defenses are tied up, drop-pods will be deployed with troops in heavy power-armor, the best there is, to break the defenses and capture the evidence. Highest risk of casualties, highest chance of reward.
This sort of effort would have to be massivly coordinated to even get off the ground. If someone has that much influence within our society, then we need the intel about them badly. Badly enough to risk heavy casualties to get the information.
Also, given that they ended up with a tank somehow, I'm really glad that the lethal option won.
This sort of effort would have to be massivly coordinated to even get off the ground. If someone has that much influence within our society, then we need the intel about them badly. Badly enough to risk heavy casualties to get the information.
Also, given that they ended up with a tank somehow, I'm really glad that the lethal option won.
[X] Use gunships and drop-ships as distractions, towards the edge of the base, but the main strike will be right on it. Once their defenses are tied up, drop-pods will be deployed with troops in heavy power-armor, the best there is, to break the defenses and capture the evidence. Highest risk of casualties, highest chance of reward.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Okay, everyone, vote closes sometime this afternoon!
- Pronouns
- They/Them
On the one hand, the update's been held up by me being busy, on the other hand, as the sages advise I raised a goat on human blood and then sacrificed it in order to gain insights into the future and it says that the post after next will likely be the Turn 2 Results post, instead of starting on another set of sub-turns.
Gang War End
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The Hive Strikes Back
[X] Use gunships and drop-ships as distractions, towards the edge of the base, but the main strike will be right on it. Once their defenses are tied up, drop-pods will be deployed with troops in heavy power-armor, the best there is, to break the defenses and capture the evidence. Highest risk of casualties, highest chance of reward.
The Plan: Roll 1d100+35 (Military Stat)+5 (Familiar ground)+5 (Quality disparity, minor)+10 (Military Genius Trait)=1d100+55=152. Natural Critical success, Artificial super-critical success.
There wasn't a lot of time before the troops had to be ready for drop. A few dozen minutes at most to get in position, and then send the gunships and dropships, then the main strike. Not a lot of time to plan, to most people. For Hazitean, it was more than enough. Her eyes leaned down as she began planning trajectories, complex mathematics coming to her in a buzz of remembered formulas and axioms, where to strike for maximum effect; and she knew the men well enough, though she pulled up a few profiles to check, thinking through whether they'd be able to do it. Yes. Yes, and then this...she kept on moving, picking up the pad to continue the work as she stalked down into the hold, saying into her comms system, "Transmitting orders. I want all drop units ready in the tubes, priority to those with Z-High designation in heavy armor. We're gonna have ourselves an easy little trick here. Sucker them out then stab 'em."
She kept on moving, changing a few coordinates at the last moment, then entering the busy locker room. Modesty wasn't really a thing for the Xvorzit, and the others around her stripped to full nudity, beginning to work themselves into their undersuits. Hazitean for her part moved towards her own arms locker, the door popping open at her invisible, electronic prompting, reaching in to first pull out her own undersuit. Working her limbs into the elasticated suit with a speed borne of practise and familiarity, securing the seal at the front up to her throat. The undersuit mainly contained a network thermal regulation systems, heating or cooling as required to maintain a comfortable internal temperature, as well as a surface of tough fullerene weave as a final layer of protection.
The undersuit on, she began methodically removing each piece of armor from its set place in the locker, and locking it securely. Sabatons first, the segmented pieces fastening around her insectile feet. Then moving up each leg in turn- greaves engaging with the tops of the feet-pieces, flexing and rotating each foot to ensure the joint is moving properly, repeating the process as each joint engages, gradually encasing herself in a shell of composited amorphous titanium/tungsten mix and fullerite, substrated and shot through with titanium alloy. Cuisses next, the attached joint-guard sliding down into place once the joint closes, the myomer substrate of each plate also extending to attach. With the suit fully assembled, the full-body sheath of myomer bundles will dramatically amplify her strength, to the point that killing an unarmored, unenhanced person with her bare hands becomes trivially easy.
With the loinguard in place (many interlocking pieces to accommodate the movement of all four legs, and thus somewhat inevitably one of the suit's relatively weak points), she can turn her attention to the under-pack. In times long gone by, life support systems used to be integrated with a suit's cuirass- now, they're incorporated into a lightweight pack that sits on the back beneath the armor, enjoying the full benefit of its protection- important, when making a combat drop onto an airless moon.
Speaking of the cuirass, she was now carefully settling it onto her shoulders, slipping her head through the neckhole, the locks down each side engaging before the loinguard engaged with it in turn, twisting her torso from side to side to test the joint even as she could feel the miniature fusion plant mounted in the backplate, heavily shielded, thrumming into life. All that was left before moving onto her arms was to pull the hood of the undersuit up over her head, and then make sure the cuirass' attached gorget sat snug to her neck.
Pulling on the undersuit's gloves, making sure they sealed properly with the rest of the garment, then beginning to don the last pieces. Left and right rerebraces, spaulders sliding up to cover her shoulders as soon as they were in place, rolling each shoulder. Left and right vambraces, elbow-pieces locking into place as well, then lastly gauntlets- the back of each hand and each finger covered with overlapping plates, but the front and palm more lightly protected in order to maintain the necessary flexibility. Now that the movement-enhancing myomer sheath is complete and fully connected she knows electric charges will be running through each artificial muscle-strand, matching her movements perfectly. She can feel a slight pressure all over, almost feeling like the suit is inflating against her as the hollow void between the myomer layer and the outer plating is filled with kinetic gel, the sensation only abating once the colloid smartfluid is evenly distributed- it serves an important purpose, not just thermal protection, but, when subjected to an impact, the smart fluid will stiffen and become rigid, absorbing the force before reverting to its usual consistency.
Finally, the helmet engages with the gorget, and heads-up displays pop up in front of her eyes as it interfaces with the suit's control computers. Reactor, online. Sensors, online. Shields, online. All systems nominal. The armor is standard issue for Naval Security (just happening to be in more or less her size and easily adjusted to fit) and thus lacks some of the additional special features she'd become accustomed to having during her time with special forces, but ultimately armor is armor. Better to have it than not.
And then the assault rifle. It was a sturdy weapon, a little simpler than it might have been, without the dual-feed mechanism or variable cyclic rate that longarms adopted by wealthier nations had, but it and others like it had seen her through her youth alive and well. Not that there was as much danger in some cases--but there still was enough to sink one's teeth into. And after that, after she'd been cast out...after. After that she'd had to fight to live. And it was a good rifle- bullpup in configuration as most were, four millimeter calibre, one hundred rounds in a magazine. What it lacked in bells and whistles it made up for in muzzle velocity, matching those more expensive designs with their additional features- 2,041 meters per second or mach 6, good performance for a low-caliber grav driver. No messing around with chemical explosives, or even electromagnetism, not in this day and age- gravity manipulation had been refined to such a degree that even grav driver handguns were commonplace now.
Not completely free of bells and whistles, though- underneath the rifle's barrel was nestled a much wider, stubbier one, of the ubiquitous variable micro-munition launcher.. It had to be manually loaded, sure, one shot at a time, but that just let her choose whichever variety of self-propelled thirty millimeter micro-munition was most appropriate for the task at hand. Anti-personnel plasma, HESH for shields more powerful than infantry-grade, HV penetrators for cracking hard targets, concussion for structures… most dumb-fired, but a handful smart, self-guiding.
Not that she was truly reflecting on all of this, it was all instinct: what she breathed, what she had lived: war, or at least combat. What mattered most of all was that it worked, and that her plan worked and that the world continued to dance to her will. She could control the world, she could make it make sense. And she could plunge it into chaos.
Rolls: We need a distraction (two rolls for plan super-crit) 1d100+16 (Military of dropships)+5 (Advantage)-10 (Defenses)+10 (Good plan)+5 (Edge of contact)+5 (Suppressing fire)=1d100+31=89, 64. So, 89. Not bad.
Ships streamed out of the bay, dropships and gunships, matte grey and black, mere specks against the vastness, the unbelievable size, of the Battleship. Each armed to the teeth, headed downward toward the surface. Missiles were launched, and the heat signatures indicated that most of the enemy troops were massing towards them, firing. But the missiles automated patterns were obvious.
Hazitean had predicted them, and the ships moved to almost effortlessly dodge them, only a single one actually approaching within attack range, and that instantly destroyed by interceptor missiles from the battleship above. A dozen ships landed, disgorging a couple of platoons, the soldiers sprinting for cover under the supporting fire of the gunships above, engaging the defenders in a drawn-out firefight. The battleship shifted, moving to just the right angle. Would the frigate pop around the corner?
If so, Hazitean had plans for that too. She pushed her way into a drop pod with nine others, a huge bulky egg, matte black, pockmarked with retracted guidance fins and thrusts- both for correcting its descent. From it would birth the destruction of the base, she thought, rubbing her arms against the side, almost fondly, then carefully locking the restraining harness in place It was cramped with all the occupants in heavy armor but that was fine. Even she, her mind strange and her ways unusual, felt that safety in numbers, that...comfort of being crowded in next to another Xvorzit. Watching and waiting as the hatches were sealed up and the pod began to ease down into it's launch tube. The soldiers around her weren't special forces, weren't even drop troops- they were Naval Security, but that was fine. Naval Security are at least trained for orbital drops (though to a lesser degree as dedicated drop troops) and, more importantly, they're trained to fight in vacuum, in low-gravity, and in the cramped confines of a ship, station or, say, secret moonbase- things that will stand them in good stead on this operation.
Distraction Withdrawal: rolled a 41 and a 62, so it went...alright! 62
The gunships move back, logically it had to be because of the withering fire, right? One of them was hit by a missile and went down, wreckage scattering over the lip of a crater, but the others moved away, drawing fire even then. The whole operation hung on a thread as the battleship reorientated itself and then spat three drop pods, unseen by sensors for but a few moments- no need for course correction or extra acceleration, the launch tubes had imparted enough thrust to place them on exactly the right trajectory
Drop Pod: 1d100+50-5 (Discrepancies)=1d100+45, roll twice: 97, 108. Rolled 108
Down they went, too fast for any reaction, unpowered and cold, almost impossible to detect, until retro-thrusters fired at the last possible moment, searing gouts of plasma both slowing the rate of descent down to something survivable, and blasting through the structure below them- and, if that weren't enough, the impact a second later caved the ceiling in, anyone unfortunate enough to have been in the way either incinerated or crushed, atmosphere exploding out of the hole they'd made in a howling gale. And then the hatches burst open and out spilled the soldiers, black-armored and faceless, firing upon those few enemy soldiers that weren't out of position. Hazitean grinned as she stepped out, "Stun if you can, kill if you can't!"
Her voice was a whistling yell as she charged forward, "Squad Four, with me! Secure the labs." An enemy gasped, whistling, reaching for a handgun far too late, and she shot him. He didn't know anything--he because of the cut of his vest, it was so obvious to a Xvorzit-- and so he got nothing more than a shot to the head that obliterated everything above the shoulder. It took but a second, and then they were moving onward, through the bright corridors, towards the labs. The lights were flashing, the floors groaning as they stormed through, eschewing subtlety for brutal speed, bursting into a huge room and…
Hazitean stopped. There were huge vats of Hatish, great gobs of Yarldo, congealing on a pallet, drugs upon drugs, her eyes wide. She couldn't breath, she just stared at them and the memories flashed by. She stepped forward, a shot hitting her shield and dissipating. It was there, all of it was there. She hadn't had some of them in...days. And...fuck, were they going to burn it all? Destroy the evidence? Some of it looked pure and...pure and…
She moved as if in a haze, and then someone stepped into her path. Her weapon came out and her finger went down on the trigger, panic and hate and fear intermingling, but it didn't fire. A friendly, and thus- by a rather leaky system- impossible to shoot. It wasn't perfect, and it could be hacked which is why it was usually not used in a combat situation. She'd almost opened up at point-blank range on one of her squad members, and she tried to shake herself in focus, but it was too close, far too close. She shot the pallet, once then twice, saying, "Capture the scientists, photograph and b-burn the drugs, destroy them."
"Ma'am, I-"
"DESTROY THEM!" She whistled, her voice high and panicked, "Yesterday. Yesterday!"
*****
You need help friend?
Rolled: 1d100+19+10 (Fuck, I nearly killed someone...that I didn't mean to kill)=111
"Hazitean," Vorzhan said later, in a debriefing, hours after all of the shooting was done and the base taken-
"I'm sorry, I won't do it again I-" she began, and there's fear there. She thinks I'll kill her, Vorzhan realizes, or...something. Dismiss her, give up on her. She needed Vorzhan for some reason, something deeper than mere convenience, and now it was revealed. Not why, but that was for later. What was for now was social leverage. Helping her.
"You won't, and I won't dismiss you, but...something needs to change. We'll talk more about this later, but...for the moment, tell me about the rest of the operation…
War-Turn Successful!
*****
A/N: As far as your winnings go, and there *are* winnings including several hundred Wealth and some various opinion changes and (eventually) options, those will all be covered in the turn results section.
[X] Use gunships and drop-ships as distractions, towards the edge of the base, but the main strike will be right on it. Once their defenses are tied up, drop-pods will be deployed with troops in heavy power-armor, the best there is, to break the defenses and capture the evidence. Highest risk of casualties, highest chance of reward.
The Plan: Roll 1d100+35 (Military Stat)+5 (Familiar ground)+5 (Quality disparity, minor)+10 (Military Genius Trait)=1d100+55=152. Natural Critical success, Artificial super-critical success.
There wasn't a lot of time before the troops had to be ready for drop. A few dozen minutes at most to get in position, and then send the gunships and dropships, then the main strike. Not a lot of time to plan, to most people. For Hazitean, it was more than enough. Her eyes leaned down as she began planning trajectories, complex mathematics coming to her in a buzz of remembered formulas and axioms, where to strike for maximum effect; and she knew the men well enough, though she pulled up a few profiles to check, thinking through whether they'd be able to do it. Yes. Yes, and then this...she kept on moving, picking up the pad to continue the work as she stalked down into the hold, saying into her comms system, "Transmitting orders. I want all drop units ready in the tubes, priority to those with Z-High designation in heavy armor. We're gonna have ourselves an easy little trick here. Sucker them out then stab 'em."
She kept on moving, changing a few coordinates at the last moment, then entering the busy locker room. Modesty wasn't really a thing for the Xvorzit, and the others around her stripped to full nudity, beginning to work themselves into their undersuits. Hazitean for her part moved towards her own arms locker, the door popping open at her invisible, electronic prompting, reaching in to first pull out her own undersuit. Working her limbs into the elasticated suit with a speed borne of practise and familiarity, securing the seal at the front up to her throat. The undersuit mainly contained a network thermal regulation systems, heating or cooling as required to maintain a comfortable internal temperature, as well as a surface of tough fullerene weave as a final layer of protection.
The undersuit on, she began methodically removing each piece of armor from its set place in the locker, and locking it securely. Sabatons first, the segmented pieces fastening around her insectile feet. Then moving up each leg in turn- greaves engaging with the tops of the feet-pieces, flexing and rotating each foot to ensure the joint is moving properly, repeating the process as each joint engages, gradually encasing herself in a shell of composited amorphous titanium/tungsten mix and fullerite, substrated and shot through with titanium alloy. Cuisses next, the attached joint-guard sliding down into place once the joint closes, the myomer substrate of each plate also extending to attach. With the suit fully assembled, the full-body sheath of myomer bundles will dramatically amplify her strength, to the point that killing an unarmored, unenhanced person with her bare hands becomes trivially easy.
With the loinguard in place (many interlocking pieces to accommodate the movement of all four legs, and thus somewhat inevitably one of the suit's relatively weak points), she can turn her attention to the under-pack. In times long gone by, life support systems used to be integrated with a suit's cuirass- now, they're incorporated into a lightweight pack that sits on the back beneath the armor, enjoying the full benefit of its protection- important, when making a combat drop onto an airless moon.
Speaking of the cuirass, she was now carefully settling it onto her shoulders, slipping her head through the neckhole, the locks down each side engaging before the loinguard engaged with it in turn, twisting her torso from side to side to test the joint even as she could feel the miniature fusion plant mounted in the backplate, heavily shielded, thrumming into life. All that was left before moving onto her arms was to pull the hood of the undersuit up over her head, and then make sure the cuirass' attached gorget sat snug to her neck.
Pulling on the undersuit's gloves, making sure they sealed properly with the rest of the garment, then beginning to don the last pieces. Left and right rerebraces, spaulders sliding up to cover her shoulders as soon as they were in place, rolling each shoulder. Left and right vambraces, elbow-pieces locking into place as well, then lastly gauntlets- the back of each hand and each finger covered with overlapping plates, but the front and palm more lightly protected in order to maintain the necessary flexibility. Now that the movement-enhancing myomer sheath is complete and fully connected she knows electric charges will be running through each artificial muscle-strand, matching her movements perfectly. She can feel a slight pressure all over, almost feeling like the suit is inflating against her as the hollow void between the myomer layer and the outer plating is filled with kinetic gel, the sensation only abating once the colloid smartfluid is evenly distributed- it serves an important purpose, not just thermal protection, but, when subjected to an impact, the smart fluid will stiffen and become rigid, absorbing the force before reverting to its usual consistency.
Finally, the helmet engages with the gorget, and heads-up displays pop up in front of her eyes as it interfaces with the suit's control computers. Reactor, online. Sensors, online. Shields, online. All systems nominal. The armor is standard issue for Naval Security (just happening to be in more or less her size and easily adjusted to fit) and thus lacks some of the additional special features she'd become accustomed to having during her time with special forces, but ultimately armor is armor. Better to have it than not.
And then the assault rifle. It was a sturdy weapon, a little simpler than it might have been, without the dual-feed mechanism or variable cyclic rate that longarms adopted by wealthier nations had, but it and others like it had seen her through her youth alive and well. Not that there was as much danger in some cases--but there still was enough to sink one's teeth into. And after that, after she'd been cast out...after. After that she'd had to fight to live. And it was a good rifle- bullpup in configuration as most were, four millimeter calibre, one hundred rounds in a magazine. What it lacked in bells and whistles it made up for in muzzle velocity, matching those more expensive designs with their additional features- 2,041 meters per second or mach 6, good performance for a low-caliber grav driver. No messing around with chemical explosives, or even electromagnetism, not in this day and age- gravity manipulation had been refined to such a degree that even grav driver handguns were commonplace now.
Not completely free of bells and whistles, though- underneath the rifle's barrel was nestled a much wider, stubbier one, of the ubiquitous variable micro-munition launcher.. It had to be manually loaded, sure, one shot at a time, but that just let her choose whichever variety of self-propelled thirty millimeter micro-munition was most appropriate for the task at hand. Anti-personnel plasma, HESH for shields more powerful than infantry-grade, HV penetrators for cracking hard targets, concussion for structures… most dumb-fired, but a handful smart, self-guiding.
Not that she was truly reflecting on all of this, it was all instinct: what she breathed, what she had lived: war, or at least combat. What mattered most of all was that it worked, and that her plan worked and that the world continued to dance to her will. She could control the world, she could make it make sense. And she could plunge it into chaos.
Rolls: We need a distraction (two rolls for plan super-crit) 1d100+16 (Military of dropships)+5 (Advantage)-10 (Defenses)+10 (Good plan)+5 (Edge of contact)+5 (Suppressing fire)=1d100+31=89, 64. So, 89. Not bad.
Ships streamed out of the bay, dropships and gunships, matte grey and black, mere specks against the vastness, the unbelievable size, of the Battleship. Each armed to the teeth, headed downward toward the surface. Missiles were launched, and the heat signatures indicated that most of the enemy troops were massing towards them, firing. But the missiles automated patterns were obvious.
Hazitean had predicted them, and the ships moved to almost effortlessly dodge them, only a single one actually approaching within attack range, and that instantly destroyed by interceptor missiles from the battleship above. A dozen ships landed, disgorging a couple of platoons, the soldiers sprinting for cover under the supporting fire of the gunships above, engaging the defenders in a drawn-out firefight. The battleship shifted, moving to just the right angle. Would the frigate pop around the corner?
If so, Hazitean had plans for that too. She pushed her way into a drop pod with nine others, a huge bulky egg, matte black, pockmarked with retracted guidance fins and thrusts- both for correcting its descent. From it would birth the destruction of the base, she thought, rubbing her arms against the side, almost fondly, then carefully locking the restraining harness in place It was cramped with all the occupants in heavy armor but that was fine. Even she, her mind strange and her ways unusual, felt that safety in numbers, that...comfort of being crowded in next to another Xvorzit. Watching and waiting as the hatches were sealed up and the pod began to ease down into it's launch tube. The soldiers around her weren't special forces, weren't even drop troops- they were Naval Security, but that was fine. Naval Security are at least trained for orbital drops (though to a lesser degree as dedicated drop troops) and, more importantly, they're trained to fight in vacuum, in low-gravity, and in the cramped confines of a ship, station or, say, secret moonbase- things that will stand them in good stead on this operation.
Distraction Withdrawal: rolled a 41 and a 62, so it went...alright! 62
The gunships move back, logically it had to be because of the withering fire, right? One of them was hit by a missile and went down, wreckage scattering over the lip of a crater, but the others moved away, drawing fire even then. The whole operation hung on a thread as the battleship reorientated itself and then spat three drop pods, unseen by sensors for but a few moments- no need for course correction or extra acceleration, the launch tubes had imparted enough thrust to place them on exactly the right trajectory
Drop Pod: 1d100+50-5 (Discrepancies)=1d100+45, roll twice: 97, 108. Rolled 108
Down they went, too fast for any reaction, unpowered and cold, almost impossible to detect, until retro-thrusters fired at the last possible moment, searing gouts of plasma both slowing the rate of descent down to something survivable, and blasting through the structure below them- and, if that weren't enough, the impact a second later caved the ceiling in, anyone unfortunate enough to have been in the way either incinerated or crushed, atmosphere exploding out of the hole they'd made in a howling gale. And then the hatches burst open and out spilled the soldiers, black-armored and faceless, firing upon those few enemy soldiers that weren't out of position. Hazitean grinned as she stepped out, "Stun if you can, kill if you can't!"
Her voice was a whistling yell as she charged forward, "Squad Four, with me! Secure the labs." An enemy gasped, whistling, reaching for a handgun far too late, and she shot him. He didn't know anything--he because of the cut of his vest, it was so obvious to a Xvorzit-- and so he got nothing more than a shot to the head that obliterated everything above the shoulder. It took but a second, and then they were moving onward, through the bright corridors, towards the labs. The lights were flashing, the floors groaning as they stormed through, eschewing subtlety for brutal speed, bursting into a huge room and…
Hazitean stopped. There were huge vats of Hatish, great gobs of Yarldo, congealing on a pallet, drugs upon drugs, her eyes wide. She couldn't breath, she just stared at them and the memories flashed by. She stepped forward, a shot hitting her shield and dissipating. It was there, all of it was there. She hadn't had some of them in...days. And...fuck, were they going to burn it all? Destroy the evidence? Some of it looked pure and...pure and…
She moved as if in a haze, and then someone stepped into her path. Her weapon came out and her finger went down on the trigger, panic and hate and fear intermingling, but it didn't fire. A friendly, and thus- by a rather leaky system- impossible to shoot. It wasn't perfect, and it could be hacked which is why it was usually not used in a combat situation. She'd almost opened up at point-blank range on one of her squad members, and she tried to shake herself in focus, but it was too close, far too close. She shot the pallet, once then twice, saying, "Capture the scientists, photograph and b-burn the drugs, destroy them."
"Ma'am, I-"
"DESTROY THEM!" She whistled, her voice high and panicked, "Yesterday. Yesterday!"
*****
You need help friend?
Rolled: 1d100+19+10 (Fuck, I nearly killed someone...that I didn't mean to kill)=111
"Hazitean," Vorzhan said later, in a debriefing, hours after all of the shooting was done and the base taken-
"I'm sorry, I won't do it again I-" she began, and there's fear there. She thinks I'll kill her, Vorzhan realizes, or...something. Dismiss her, give up on her. She needed Vorzhan for some reason, something deeper than mere convenience, and now it was revealed. Not why, but that was for later. What was for now was social leverage. Helping her.
"You won't, and I won't dismiss you, but...something needs to change. We'll talk more about this later, but...for the moment, tell me about the rest of the operation…
War-Turn Successful!
*****
A/N: As far as your winnings go, and there *are* winnings including several hundred Wealth and some various opinion changes and (eventually) options, those will all be covered in the turn results section.
Ginger Maniac
Subject to Gravity
- Location
- Old Blighty
That's one well-raked moon. 
And yeah, next turn we need to get onto getting Hazitean some proper mental health assistance.
And yeah, next turn we need to get onto getting Hazitean some proper mental health assistance.
- Pronouns
- They/He
I knew that sheep sacrifice was a worthy investment. 
But yeah, Hazitean really needs some mental help.
But yeah, Hazitean really needs some mental help.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
She'll be getting *some* this turn, that's part of what the action was for. But of course as with anything one has to make sure that she follows through and keeps going through the motions and so on.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Alright, I've done the rolling and the number-crunching, gonna write up the results tomorrow. Against all of my expectations, you're not driving the economy and the treasury into the ground yet. 
In fact...you're not doing so bad at all! Except for one VERY unfortunate failure.
In fact...you're not doing so bad at all! Except for one VERY unfortunate failure.
...our pet bond villain?Alright, I've done the rolling and the number-crunching, gonna write up the results tomorrow. Against all of my expectations, you're not driving the economy and the treasury into the ground yet.
In fact...you're not doing so bad at all! Except for one VERY unfortunate failure.
Turn 2--Results
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 2 Results
Military: You saved some money and looked into something...which turned out to lead to a gang war.
What's With Research?
Rolled: 72
In the end, the base was taken, and the information with it. A lot of it was only useful for tracking down the drug trade, but there was some interesting information on medical uses for several things, and more options in that regard, though for the moment it will take some work to sort through them. More importantly, the Xvorzit involved are arrested and tried along with all of the rest, and for the moment the military no longer has a Research budget, that 50 Wealth folded back in. It costs some money to shut it all down, but it's more than made up for in other gains.
It's a mess, but at least it's done with, for the moment.
Reward: 50 Wealth a turn, Learning Options next turn.
Tanks for Nothing
Needed: 30. Rolled: 39
Until one of them popped up, it had looked like a stunning success. Vorzhan had followed up with a thorough investigation, and dozens were caught up in it, mostly at the lower levels. They might not have gotten everything, but they got most of them, and in the process checked out the rest of the tanks. They were being used properly, and Vorzhan got an invite and accepted it--when she finally had time--to a race involving two hovertanks. It was rather dirty, and being amid a crowd of ten-thousand screaming Xvorzit cheering on the two teams, named by color was interesting, but they had fun.
A lot of fun, honestly. And it allowed you to connect to some rather interesting figures. Including one Bazrith, a tall and spindly Xvorzit who apparently knew a lot about the history of tanks, and as a gift gave you a data-sheet of his book. More pressingly and important--it was reasonably well written but a bit long-winded--it included information and inferences on current tank designs, which at least gives a few ideas.
Reward: 250 Wealth, 500 Wealth a turn, new options to research tanks, because I know how much you all love more options.
(Hazitean) With the Fleets
Rolled: 60, enough for a bonus action because of 'event bonus.'
Hazitean didn't have a lot of time, what with rehabilitation and doctor's visits, and the like, but she did manage to drop something off rather late in the year. Apparently her contact with the fleet, while it hadn't exactly...impressed that many, gave her the chance to check up on them, and the story was...mixed at best. Loyalty was reasonably high, and they were all doing their job. And compared to the rest of the military their budget was rather reasonable. If anything it could have been increased against the rest of the military budget.
Except the hold administration had feared rebellion, war, criminals: things that couldn't really be helped from space, and the fact that they weren't even doing pirate patrols makes the situation worse.
Reward: Info, as below. Options open up.
Units:
2 Battleships, both extremely outdated, the Gazinitah and the Prince Hazanit (Upkeep: 150 per ship (per turn), 300 total.)
8 Heavy Cruisers (five are more than thirty years out of date, three have gone about thirty years since last refit. Upkeep is 50 per old Heavy Cruiser, 40 per new, for a total of 370.)
18 Light Cruisers (4 old, 14 new, tends to be in somewhat better shape than the Battleships. Upkeep 10 per new LC, 14 per old)
24 Destroyers (4 old, 20 new. Upkeep: 4 per new, 5 per old)
30 Frigates (3 old, 27 new. Upkeep is 3 across the board. Old ones cost marginally more, so if you turned the three old into three new by magic you might save...one upkeep a turn, so it basically costs the same for purposes.
40 Corvettes (All old because it's an old design. Upkeep is 2 Wealth per turn.)
Organization:
There is no one Admiral, instead being a matter of prestige and relative position and seniority, as well as just general agreement. In theory they are organized into non-mixed groups that are deployed in battle. In reality there are a number of ad-hoc patrol fleets in which ships of all classes are organized for the purpose of missions.
Budget:
1800 (Upkeep plus marines, training, supplies, etc)
Diplomacy: The word of they day is 'Communication.' Can you say communication, kids?
Fair, Balanced and Well Funded
Needed: 30, Rolled: 50+10 (Synergy)=60
Ultimately, what it took was some money and some retooling of the brand. Or so Vorzhan was told. New people were hired, it became more professional, and in the aftermath of the 'Gang War', tons of more interest popped up. New sites, new info-feeds, new shows, and the programming rode the wave of that, being the official government voice on the ongoing trials, which would take more than a little time to wind their way through the courts. On the back of that, along with the cultural programs, there is a sizable enough audience that it can stand on its own.
Reward: Lose 400 Wealth, Lose 50 Wealth a turn to pay for it, improved ability to affect the popular mood, options in certain scenarios.
Talk to Sol
Rolled: 63, no major problems with having the meeting.
The meeting is set up with very little in the way of complications. It's all done through back channels, but it'll take place on a station orbiting Earth itself, hopefully avoiding some of the prying eyes involved.
Reward: Diplomacy Turn.
Stewardship: There's much to do here, and very little time. The economy needs all the help it can get, and this year you focused on trying to reform the laws and listen to the people's will.
Colonial Holdings
Need: 40, Rolled: 64
It's not as bad as Vorzhan feared. Only a significant fraction of the companies and individuals are owned by Stendarian or Iashec interests. Not even close to all of them. And the colonies seem to appreciate the attention and the money given towards their recovery, and the higher standards for food certainly don't hurt. All in all, it's rather easy to manage it all, even if the Iashec compounds of course still refuse to pay more than small fees, nothing at all like taxes.
More importantly, the colonies seem rather diversified, in addition to being trading posts, and there's a lot to work with, including some basic hab-doming and terraforming that is going on to a limited extent. Either way, there's a lot of trading that winds up happening, especially now that Gazinitah isn't as much of a pariah in the eyes of the other Xvorzit Hives, though some of the traders complain that Vorzhan hasn't talked to them much yet.
Reward: -150 Wealth, +200 Wealth, starting next turn 250 Wealth a turn in tax and other income/contribution to the intergalactic economy.
Study the Workers Plight
Need: 25, Rolled: 96, huh
Vorzhan needed to know more, needed to see it the way a hungry Xvorzit in a desert might turn over a rock and hope the bugs under it weren't too inedible. Well, it could have been worse, certainly. But the workers were beaten for noncompliance in some cases--a very few as a statistic, but it leapt out to him--and were docked pay for any activity that wasn't productive. Despite that they were paid too low and quit too often to be that productive in many cases, and the hours were simply dreadful even by Xvorzit standards, for whom a 60 hour work-week is considered normal or even low. It was a mess, and a lot of laws would have to be crafted.
And then there was the breaking up of worker-associations, the horrible conditions in some of the mines, which had been…
Here the story got so horrific Vorzhan had had to hold themselves back, remind themselves to be patient. Because the mines and several other industries were make-work. Machines existed to halve or even quarter the number of workers and give them great conditions and reasonable wages. Instead, the poor and those deemed problems--but not big enough ones to be sent to the prison world--were shipped off to work in the mines and in the fields to teach them work-ethic, and get them out of the way, with death rates that are...just terrible.
The rapes get to Vorzhan as well. Rapes, plural. Again, the laws exist on the books, but it's hard to prove since sex doesn't lead to children the way it does for many other species, and genetic evidence can often be scrubbed for. But there is a rash of it occurring in many areas where any one Xvorzit has power over another in the realm of business by being their employer.
Then there's the 'child helpers' who aren't technically children being put to work--poor children, always--but only by the barest of technicalities.
But in all honesty, the worst part was when Vorzhan had told Hazitean this, as she sat in her room at the mental-health-clinic. "I know. Didn't you?"
Vorzhan had known bits and pieces, but now they realized just how bad it all was, and it created a damning picture.
Reward: Vorzhan's actually sorta pissed off (he's Just, after all), -500 Wealth. Veekie, guess what? A lot of options unlocked, like 4-5!
(Hive) Bad Worms, Bad Company
Need: 40, Rolled: 42
They counter-sue. And then counter-counter sue. And then they attack Vorzhan as going too far, which as it turns out is rather bad public relations, and the stories start to well up from the underhive, from the depths of the planet. Thousands have been harmed by them, millions and millions in ways big and small have been harmed by the lack of standards, and the push to make laws to prevent this is strong, as is something far basic. Something that Vorzhan is starting to understand and predict.
Vengeance. Not bloody, not cruel, but the company needs to pay and the people want it done, simple as that. They hadn't fully known it before, hadn't been made aware of just how much this company was screwing them over, but once unleashed, things escalate fast. Huge numbers of employees quit and protest, the markets all but shut them out, and within a few months the entire company is on its last legs, vulnerable and trying to figure a way out of this.
At the mercy of the state, as the new rules begin to be enacted, albeit slowly. There are protests from companies, but at the moment there is little they can do.
Reward: -100 Wealth, worker opinion increased. Will of the Hive now 1 (+5 to all (Hive) rolls, +10 to economy and opinion rolls for the People, -5 to all Intrigue rolls against Vorzhan on the planet.) New options opened.
Sweep The Laws
Need: 30, Rolled: 68
The enforcement of consumer protections is not the only thing that Vorzhan is able to set in motion. They begin talking to judges, making their opinion very, very clear. It's a lot of talking, but that's what the job involves, and after a lot of talking, especially with lawyers, Vorzhan goes on their channel after some pre-talk entertainment by a famous musician in a more synthetic form than Barizitan song-poetry, describes what will be the situation from now on.
"All laws that serve as nothing more than the oppression of anyone the defense forces want dead are gone. Now and forever. The people's will shall be heard, has been heard, and will always be heard! I swear to you that I will use the law as it is meant to be used: towards the good of the entire Hive and all of its members. There are good laws and bad laws. The laws against those who would destroy lives for their profit: they are the good."
The camera panned back to show that Vorzhan was seated at a middling cafe, a plate of Jasiphus worms cooked in a nice brown sauce laying out in front of them. It reminded the people of the things they had done: good PR, they'd been told. Plus he hadn't eaten all day, too busy dealing with certain diplomatic problems. There was an audible cheer as people began to chitter and gather outside of the cafe, and as he spoke, each phrase harsh and certain, hopeful and blunt, cheers whistled out all across the planet, impromptu parades and games and rallies taking place. And the police watch, uncertain what to do. No order ever goes to disperse them, of course none comes.
Reward: -100 Wealth, new options unlocked, workers opinion increased, police are a bit...leery?
Intrigue: You instigate the Gang War, you go after Zaeswin, and you try to get a grips on just what sort of tiger you're riding!
Grubs in the Muck
Rolled: 88
Trials are held, and assets are seized, and though there are plenty who criticize the decision to open fire, in the face of the evidence of a vast and shadowy criminal conspiracy funded by all sorts of revanchist groups and with ties and connections that might prove to be awkward--more than a few of the Ruler Caste members, the lower ones, seem to have met at least once with some of the higher ups, and it's all a tangle there. In the face of all of that, the criticism fades. And a lot of assets are seized. Those gangs that remain have to keep their head down, allowing them to be managed much easier.
Reward: Options, +10 for rolls involving crimes or internal security for the next turn or two while the underworld figures out how to adapt to the 'post-winnowing' state of things, which they will no doubt do. 300 Wealth. -150 Wealth.
Casino Royale
Rolled: 97+5=102, well.
Two things are accomplished in a very, very short time. First, an identity is made, with a huge amount of details. Vorzhan looks up population statistics, demographics, modes of speech, types of expression and so on before crafting Yizitari, a Merchant-Caste female from the famous 'Barsa Confederacy Hive World' Amarin. Vorzhan knew the cultural rituals and so on, and believed they could fake the right sort of person. Their head-wings would be hidden behind a plate, and cover stories were constructed.
Additionally, there was news on the mad monster and the Royal Casino. Zaeswin was seen in a single blurry bit of video that was carefully gathered at great risk, sitting at a table with a set of cards, playing some sort of game that analysis later determined to be the human game 'Solitaire.' So, he was definitely there.
Vorzhan was coming for him!
Reward: Intrigue Turn, bonuses to said turn from good rolls.
The Infernal Archive
Needed: 60, Rolled: 31+5=36, failure.
Amid all of the work, Vorzhan almost forgets to do this, and assigns several people to it. They don't get around to it, despite prodding, and what they do find is contradictory and more along the lines of 'pulling information out of the muck.' Rather than, well, cleaning it up. Vorzhan sighs and has a long conversation with them and ultimately reassigns them, leaving it to be dealt with later.
Reward: Failure, can be taken again next year.
Learning: We don't need no education! +??? + no dark sarcasm in the classrooms!=Something? Plus, Giant-spider Elmo.
Cultural Programming
Need: 30, Rolled: 54
Kikkizit dives into it, personally writing some of the theme-tunes and appearing in several wacky videos designed to teach kids about the poetical arts, and there's a cartoon involving a version of the first Poem, and then a documentary series that winds up being popular...there are rough spots, and in direct competition with some of the other stations out there it loses, but Kikkizit seems to be enjoying themselves, and is in fact a bug of many talents, running the whole station well within budget and with the help of friends, able to pull in top talent in order to keep it going.
And there are a number of cartoon mascots that get thrown around for the children's programs, including several that become quite popular.
The ratings are up, and this only gives them even more ideas of what to do with this new medium. In fact, he comes into the room whistling a tune and doing some sort of skipping dance, talking about how they could open up custom blocks and interactive parts and movies and tie-ins and...well, he does pause and rub his feelers and admit that this would all cost money. A lot of money.
There are numbers, and Vorzhan says, "Well...it's certainly something to consider."
Reward: -75 Wealth a turn. Cultural program! More options! Bonuses for opinion rolls and the like for the people. Some other advantages.
We Don't Need No Education
Need: 15 Rolled: 71+10=81, significant success
It took some talking, but Vorzhan had some time to at least start up some panels. Their knowledge on education left something to be desired in some areas, but Kikkizit had studied the topic, and it was started with several groups getting together, and releasing recommendations, including new websites and activities, as well as new cyber-books, and a total rehauling of dozens of things. Hundreds of things in fact. It's a huge list, and even doing half of them is a lot to do in the middle of education, which is year-round, so it'll always be in the middle of something. So Vorzhan decides that it should just be done and starts giving orders and making suggestions, and things change, faster than one could believe if they hadn't also seen the rising of the revolution from even less impetus.
The panels are kept around, of course, and continue to hash out suggestions and ideas, though it will take some time.
Reward: Reforms started, will take a bit to implement them all. Options will open up in a few turns from the panels. Lose three-hundred wealth. Locked in for now.
No Dark Sarcasm In the Classroom
Need: 40 Rolled: 62+10=72
Some teachers protest these new laws. Others spit at you passing in the street, and one half-assaults you waving a banner that says 'Let Teachers teach' before they are escaped. It's all part of being the leader of a Hive, they decide when they have a moment to reflect on it. But others don't see it that way, and the crackdown is rather thorough, thousands and thousands of teachers let go, many other censured, and teachers put in their place. There are many in the Hive who would love such a vital job as teaching, with its opportunities for interaction, play, and thoughtfulness. At least that's what Vorzhan was told.
And certainly, while some parents Labor-Groups protested, all in all it seems to have worked out exactly as they said. The bad ones had been booted out, albeit with pensions, and student activity has increased, for all that they are still escorted from room to room and monitored in their every action and word within the school. But there are clubs being opened up, and other such groups, including pre-workers-associations, as well as other groups. Now that the teachers no longer have as much power to, well, ruin the lives of their students because one of them turns out to be a spy for the government, a lot has changed, and people are noticing it already.
Younger children are coming back to their dens with stories of teachers playing with them, or of other helpful activities, and of what they learned each day, and while it's too early to tell and some fear negative outcomes, such as rebellious youth, at the moment it's viewed overwhelmingly positively.
Reward: -150 Gold (this is mostly to remind me), options might open up in a while, improved teachers, improved teacher opinion.
Personal
Activating Cybernetics
Rolled: 75
The cybernetics are done with, the modifications have been gained, and now Vorzhan is able to link up into communications as well as more fully sense those around him. All in all it was a notable success, and hopefully will help, although the doctors are highly reluctant to do any more than what they have done.
Reward: It's already on your character sheet! Check it out on the front page.
You Need Help Friend
Needed: 30/70/100+ Rolled: 111
Hazitean is checked into a clinic. In fact, she's checked into several clinics and booked for all sorts of tests, though for the moment she refuses to go for a general checkup. But other than that, Vorzhan is able to get their way, and she's off of drugs, at least for the moment. The withdraw was hard, but she managed, cursing Vorzhan the whole time, but the psychological baggage of that remains, and patient confidentiality means that there is little Vorzhan can know.
In theory. In reality there are channels and ways, and they know that Hazitean has been resistant to talking about the past or the present, but has at least been going to the sessions. Similarly, she's at least taking a few preliminary medications, and the whole thing really does seem balanced on an edge, but she's been surprisingly...compliant for the moment, and that's all that Vorzhan can think to ask for.
Reward: +20% chance for that 'Crazy...and Brilliant' option, +5 to all Personal Options next turn involving Hazitean. Increased chance that she'll stick to the 'no drugs' thing next turn. And yes, new options.
****
Budget and Money Stuff
Turn 2 Starting Wealth: 4640
Expenditures: 700 Wealth a turn (previous turn's stuff)+450 Wealth (Education costs)+75 Wealth (A turn) for Cultural Programming+450 Wealth (Intrigue Options)+20 Wealth (Martial Costs)+400 Wealth (Fair, Balanced, Etc)+50 (Talk to Sol)+150 Wealth (Colonial)+700 (Stewardship Options)=3020 Wealth
Income: 500 (Budgetary)+50 (Military Research is Gone)+200 (Trade)+200 (Colonial first bounty)+300 Wealth (Grubs in the Muck) +250 Wealth (Selling tanks) +30d100 (rolled 1469)+100 (Increased Taxes)=3079
Final Balance: 4694 Wealth
Rolling over Wealth Cost per turn after this turn: 700+75+50 (Fair, Balanced)+50 (Colonial)+50 (Debt Servicing)=925
Pre-fixed Income Per Turn, after this turn: Next turn you get 500 for not having as many tanks, 500 Budgetary, 50 Military Research, 200 (Trade), 250 a turn next turn in Colonial Output+50 (Educator donations)+100 (Increased tax income)+30d100=1650+(Average of 1500)
Debts to be Serviced
((Happens at the end of every second turn of a year)
1000 Wealth was added to the debt sheet, which means the cost of Debt Servicing increases by 50. That'll have to be paid from something, since the Debt Servicing budget is for 1700, not 1750. So, next turn you'll have to pay 50 more. And etc, etc until you are no longer borrowing.
*****
A/N: And so that's done with! Gonna start working on the Kansas City Shuffle update finally! The first thing, the Diplomatic Turn, will be coming after that, and while you are all waiting, lk has another Infodump, this time on naval stuff, and he's also available for questions.
Military: You saved some money and looked into something...which turned out to lead to a gang war.
What's With Research?
Rolled: 72
In the end, the base was taken, and the information with it. A lot of it was only useful for tracking down the drug trade, but there was some interesting information on medical uses for several things, and more options in that regard, though for the moment it will take some work to sort through them. More importantly, the Xvorzit involved are arrested and tried along with all of the rest, and for the moment the military no longer has a Research budget, that 50 Wealth folded back in. It costs some money to shut it all down, but it's more than made up for in other gains.
It's a mess, but at least it's done with, for the moment.
Reward: 50 Wealth a turn, Learning Options next turn.
Tanks for Nothing
Needed: 30. Rolled: 39
Until one of them popped up, it had looked like a stunning success. Vorzhan had followed up with a thorough investigation, and dozens were caught up in it, mostly at the lower levels. They might not have gotten everything, but they got most of them, and in the process checked out the rest of the tanks. They were being used properly, and Vorzhan got an invite and accepted it--when she finally had time--to a race involving two hovertanks. It was rather dirty, and being amid a crowd of ten-thousand screaming Xvorzit cheering on the two teams, named by color was interesting, but they had fun.
A lot of fun, honestly. And it allowed you to connect to some rather interesting figures. Including one Bazrith, a tall and spindly Xvorzit who apparently knew a lot about the history of tanks, and as a gift gave you a data-sheet of his book. More pressingly and important--it was reasonably well written but a bit long-winded--it included information and inferences on current tank designs, which at least gives a few ideas.
Reward: 250 Wealth, 500 Wealth a turn, new options to research tanks, because I know how much you all love more options.
(Hazitean) With the Fleets
Rolled: 60, enough for a bonus action because of 'event bonus.'
Hazitean didn't have a lot of time, what with rehabilitation and doctor's visits, and the like, but she did manage to drop something off rather late in the year. Apparently her contact with the fleet, while it hadn't exactly...impressed that many, gave her the chance to check up on them, and the story was...mixed at best. Loyalty was reasonably high, and they were all doing their job. And compared to the rest of the military their budget was rather reasonable. If anything it could have been increased against the rest of the military budget.
Except the hold administration had feared rebellion, war, criminals: things that couldn't really be helped from space, and the fact that they weren't even doing pirate patrols makes the situation worse.
Reward: Info, as below. Options open up.
Units:
2 Battleships, both extremely outdated, the Gazinitah and the Prince Hazanit (Upkeep: 150 per ship (per turn), 300 total.)
8 Heavy Cruisers (five are more than thirty years out of date, three have gone about thirty years since last refit. Upkeep is 50 per old Heavy Cruiser, 40 per new, for a total of 370.)
18 Light Cruisers (4 old, 14 new, tends to be in somewhat better shape than the Battleships. Upkeep 10 per new LC, 14 per old)
24 Destroyers (4 old, 20 new. Upkeep: 4 per new, 5 per old)
30 Frigates (3 old, 27 new. Upkeep is 3 across the board. Old ones cost marginally more, so if you turned the three old into three new by magic you might save...one upkeep a turn, so it basically costs the same for purposes.
40 Corvettes (All old because it's an old design. Upkeep is 2 Wealth per turn.)
Organization:
There is no one Admiral, instead being a matter of prestige and relative position and seniority, as well as just general agreement. In theory they are organized into non-mixed groups that are deployed in battle. In reality there are a number of ad-hoc patrol fleets in which ships of all classes are organized for the purpose of missions.
Budget:
1800 (Upkeep plus marines, training, supplies, etc)
Diplomacy: The word of they day is 'Communication.' Can you say communication, kids?
Fair, Balanced and Well Funded
Needed: 30, Rolled: 50+10 (Synergy)=60
Ultimately, what it took was some money and some retooling of the brand. Or so Vorzhan was told. New people were hired, it became more professional, and in the aftermath of the 'Gang War', tons of more interest popped up. New sites, new info-feeds, new shows, and the programming rode the wave of that, being the official government voice on the ongoing trials, which would take more than a little time to wind their way through the courts. On the back of that, along with the cultural programs, there is a sizable enough audience that it can stand on its own.
Reward: Lose 400 Wealth, Lose 50 Wealth a turn to pay for it, improved ability to affect the popular mood, options in certain scenarios.
Talk to Sol
Rolled: 63, no major problems with having the meeting.
The meeting is set up with very little in the way of complications. It's all done through back channels, but it'll take place on a station orbiting Earth itself, hopefully avoiding some of the prying eyes involved.
Reward: Diplomacy Turn.
Stewardship: There's much to do here, and very little time. The economy needs all the help it can get, and this year you focused on trying to reform the laws and listen to the people's will.
Colonial Holdings
Need: 40, Rolled: 64
It's not as bad as Vorzhan feared. Only a significant fraction of the companies and individuals are owned by Stendarian or Iashec interests. Not even close to all of them. And the colonies seem to appreciate the attention and the money given towards their recovery, and the higher standards for food certainly don't hurt. All in all, it's rather easy to manage it all, even if the Iashec compounds of course still refuse to pay more than small fees, nothing at all like taxes.
More importantly, the colonies seem rather diversified, in addition to being trading posts, and there's a lot to work with, including some basic hab-doming and terraforming that is going on to a limited extent. Either way, there's a lot of trading that winds up happening, especially now that Gazinitah isn't as much of a pariah in the eyes of the other Xvorzit Hives, though some of the traders complain that Vorzhan hasn't talked to them much yet.
Reward: -150 Wealth, +200 Wealth, starting next turn 250 Wealth a turn in tax and other income/contribution to the intergalactic economy.
Study the Workers Plight
Need: 25, Rolled: 96, huh
Vorzhan needed to know more, needed to see it the way a hungry Xvorzit in a desert might turn over a rock and hope the bugs under it weren't too inedible. Well, it could have been worse, certainly. But the workers were beaten for noncompliance in some cases--a very few as a statistic, but it leapt out to him--and were docked pay for any activity that wasn't productive. Despite that they were paid too low and quit too often to be that productive in many cases, and the hours were simply dreadful even by Xvorzit standards, for whom a 60 hour work-week is considered normal or even low. It was a mess, and a lot of laws would have to be crafted.
And then there was the breaking up of worker-associations, the horrible conditions in some of the mines, which had been…
Here the story got so horrific Vorzhan had had to hold themselves back, remind themselves to be patient. Because the mines and several other industries were make-work. Machines existed to halve or even quarter the number of workers and give them great conditions and reasonable wages. Instead, the poor and those deemed problems--but not big enough ones to be sent to the prison world--were shipped off to work in the mines and in the fields to teach them work-ethic, and get them out of the way, with death rates that are...just terrible.
The rapes get to Vorzhan as well. Rapes, plural. Again, the laws exist on the books, but it's hard to prove since sex doesn't lead to children the way it does for many other species, and genetic evidence can often be scrubbed for. But there is a rash of it occurring in many areas where any one Xvorzit has power over another in the realm of business by being their employer.
Then there's the 'child helpers' who aren't technically children being put to work--poor children, always--but only by the barest of technicalities.
But in all honesty, the worst part was when Vorzhan had told Hazitean this, as she sat in her room at the mental-health-clinic. "I know. Didn't you?"
Vorzhan had known bits and pieces, but now they realized just how bad it all was, and it created a damning picture.
Reward: Vorzhan's actually sorta pissed off (he's Just, after all), -500 Wealth. Veekie, guess what? A lot of options unlocked, like 4-5!
(Hive) Bad Worms, Bad Company
Need: 40, Rolled: 42
They counter-sue. And then counter-counter sue. And then they attack Vorzhan as going too far, which as it turns out is rather bad public relations, and the stories start to well up from the underhive, from the depths of the planet. Thousands have been harmed by them, millions and millions in ways big and small have been harmed by the lack of standards, and the push to make laws to prevent this is strong, as is something far basic. Something that Vorzhan is starting to understand and predict.
Vengeance. Not bloody, not cruel, but the company needs to pay and the people want it done, simple as that. They hadn't fully known it before, hadn't been made aware of just how much this company was screwing them over, but once unleashed, things escalate fast. Huge numbers of employees quit and protest, the markets all but shut them out, and within a few months the entire company is on its last legs, vulnerable and trying to figure a way out of this.
At the mercy of the state, as the new rules begin to be enacted, albeit slowly. There are protests from companies, but at the moment there is little they can do.
Reward: -100 Wealth, worker opinion increased. Will of the Hive now 1 (+5 to all (Hive) rolls, +10 to economy and opinion rolls for the People, -5 to all Intrigue rolls against Vorzhan on the planet.) New options opened.
Sweep The Laws
Need: 30, Rolled: 68
The enforcement of consumer protections is not the only thing that Vorzhan is able to set in motion. They begin talking to judges, making their opinion very, very clear. It's a lot of talking, but that's what the job involves, and after a lot of talking, especially with lawyers, Vorzhan goes on their channel after some pre-talk entertainment by a famous musician in a more synthetic form than Barizitan song-poetry, describes what will be the situation from now on.
"All laws that serve as nothing more than the oppression of anyone the defense forces want dead are gone. Now and forever. The people's will shall be heard, has been heard, and will always be heard! I swear to you that I will use the law as it is meant to be used: towards the good of the entire Hive and all of its members. There are good laws and bad laws. The laws against those who would destroy lives for their profit: they are the good."
The camera panned back to show that Vorzhan was seated at a middling cafe, a plate of Jasiphus worms cooked in a nice brown sauce laying out in front of them. It reminded the people of the things they had done: good PR, they'd been told. Plus he hadn't eaten all day, too busy dealing with certain diplomatic problems. There was an audible cheer as people began to chitter and gather outside of the cafe, and as he spoke, each phrase harsh and certain, hopeful and blunt, cheers whistled out all across the planet, impromptu parades and games and rallies taking place. And the police watch, uncertain what to do. No order ever goes to disperse them, of course none comes.
Reward: -100 Wealth, new options unlocked, workers opinion increased, police are a bit...leery?
Intrigue: You instigate the Gang War, you go after Zaeswin, and you try to get a grips on just what sort of tiger you're riding!
Grubs in the Muck
Rolled: 88
Trials are held, and assets are seized, and though there are plenty who criticize the decision to open fire, in the face of the evidence of a vast and shadowy criminal conspiracy funded by all sorts of revanchist groups and with ties and connections that might prove to be awkward--more than a few of the Ruler Caste members, the lower ones, seem to have met at least once with some of the higher ups, and it's all a tangle there. In the face of all of that, the criticism fades. And a lot of assets are seized. Those gangs that remain have to keep their head down, allowing them to be managed much easier.
Reward: Options, +10 for rolls involving crimes or internal security for the next turn or two while the underworld figures out how to adapt to the 'post-winnowing' state of things, which they will no doubt do. 300 Wealth. -150 Wealth.
Casino Royale
Rolled: 97+5=102, well.
Two things are accomplished in a very, very short time. First, an identity is made, with a huge amount of details. Vorzhan looks up population statistics, demographics, modes of speech, types of expression and so on before crafting Yizitari, a Merchant-Caste female from the famous 'Barsa Confederacy Hive World' Amarin. Vorzhan knew the cultural rituals and so on, and believed they could fake the right sort of person. Their head-wings would be hidden behind a plate, and cover stories were constructed.
Additionally, there was news on the mad monster and the Royal Casino. Zaeswin was seen in a single blurry bit of video that was carefully gathered at great risk, sitting at a table with a set of cards, playing some sort of game that analysis later determined to be the human game 'Solitaire.' So, he was definitely there.
Vorzhan was coming for him!
Reward: Intrigue Turn, bonuses to said turn from good rolls.
The Infernal Archive
Needed: 60, Rolled: 31+5=36, failure.
Amid all of the work, Vorzhan almost forgets to do this, and assigns several people to it. They don't get around to it, despite prodding, and what they do find is contradictory and more along the lines of 'pulling information out of the muck.' Rather than, well, cleaning it up. Vorzhan sighs and has a long conversation with them and ultimately reassigns them, leaving it to be dealt with later.
Reward: Failure, can be taken again next year.
Learning: We don't need no education! +??? + no dark sarcasm in the classrooms!=Something? Plus, Giant-spider Elmo.
Cultural Programming
Need: 30, Rolled: 54
Kikkizit dives into it, personally writing some of the theme-tunes and appearing in several wacky videos designed to teach kids about the poetical arts, and there's a cartoon involving a version of the first Poem, and then a documentary series that winds up being popular...there are rough spots, and in direct competition with some of the other stations out there it loses, but Kikkizit seems to be enjoying themselves, and is in fact a bug of many talents, running the whole station well within budget and with the help of friends, able to pull in top talent in order to keep it going.
And there are a number of cartoon mascots that get thrown around for the children's programs, including several that become quite popular.
The ratings are up, and this only gives them even more ideas of what to do with this new medium. In fact, he comes into the room whistling a tune and doing some sort of skipping dance, talking about how they could open up custom blocks and interactive parts and movies and tie-ins and...well, he does pause and rub his feelers and admit that this would all cost money. A lot of money.
There are numbers, and Vorzhan says, "Well...it's certainly something to consider."
Reward: -75 Wealth a turn. Cultural program! More options! Bonuses for opinion rolls and the like for the people. Some other advantages.
We Don't Need No Education
Need: 15 Rolled: 71+10=81, significant success
It took some talking, but Vorzhan had some time to at least start up some panels. Their knowledge on education left something to be desired in some areas, but Kikkizit had studied the topic, and it was started with several groups getting together, and releasing recommendations, including new websites and activities, as well as new cyber-books, and a total rehauling of dozens of things. Hundreds of things in fact. It's a huge list, and even doing half of them is a lot to do in the middle of education, which is year-round, so it'll always be in the middle of something. So Vorzhan decides that it should just be done and starts giving orders and making suggestions, and things change, faster than one could believe if they hadn't also seen the rising of the revolution from even less impetus.
The panels are kept around, of course, and continue to hash out suggestions and ideas, though it will take some time.
Reward: Reforms started, will take a bit to implement them all. Options will open up in a few turns from the panels. Lose three-hundred wealth. Locked in for now.
No Dark Sarcasm In the Classroom
Need: 40 Rolled: 62+10=72
Some teachers protest these new laws. Others spit at you passing in the street, and one half-assaults you waving a banner that says 'Let Teachers teach' before they are escaped. It's all part of being the leader of a Hive, they decide when they have a moment to reflect on it. But others don't see it that way, and the crackdown is rather thorough, thousands and thousands of teachers let go, many other censured, and teachers put in their place. There are many in the Hive who would love such a vital job as teaching, with its opportunities for interaction, play, and thoughtfulness. At least that's what Vorzhan was told.
And certainly, while some parents Labor-Groups protested, all in all it seems to have worked out exactly as they said. The bad ones had been booted out, albeit with pensions, and student activity has increased, for all that they are still escorted from room to room and monitored in their every action and word within the school. But there are clubs being opened up, and other such groups, including pre-workers-associations, as well as other groups. Now that the teachers no longer have as much power to, well, ruin the lives of their students because one of them turns out to be a spy for the government, a lot has changed, and people are noticing it already.
Younger children are coming back to their dens with stories of teachers playing with them, or of other helpful activities, and of what they learned each day, and while it's too early to tell and some fear negative outcomes, such as rebellious youth, at the moment it's viewed overwhelmingly positively.
Reward: -150 Gold (this is mostly to remind me), options might open up in a while, improved teachers, improved teacher opinion.
Personal
Activating Cybernetics
Rolled: 75
The cybernetics are done with, the modifications have been gained, and now Vorzhan is able to link up into communications as well as more fully sense those around him. All in all it was a notable success, and hopefully will help, although the doctors are highly reluctant to do any more than what they have done.
Reward: It's already on your character sheet! Check it out on the front page.
You Need Help Friend
Needed: 30/70/100+ Rolled: 111
Hazitean is checked into a clinic. In fact, she's checked into several clinics and booked for all sorts of tests, though for the moment she refuses to go for a general checkup. But other than that, Vorzhan is able to get their way, and she's off of drugs, at least for the moment. The withdraw was hard, but she managed, cursing Vorzhan the whole time, but the psychological baggage of that remains, and patient confidentiality means that there is little Vorzhan can know.
In theory. In reality there are channels and ways, and they know that Hazitean has been resistant to talking about the past or the present, but has at least been going to the sessions. Similarly, she's at least taking a few preliminary medications, and the whole thing really does seem balanced on an edge, but she's been surprisingly...compliant for the moment, and that's all that Vorzhan can think to ask for.
Reward: +20% chance for that 'Crazy...and Brilliant' option, +5 to all Personal Options next turn involving Hazitean. Increased chance that she'll stick to the 'no drugs' thing next turn. And yes, new options.
****
Budget and Money Stuff
Turn 2 Starting Wealth: 4640
Expenditures: 700 Wealth a turn (previous turn's stuff)+450 Wealth (Education costs)+75 Wealth (A turn) for Cultural Programming+450 Wealth (Intrigue Options)+20 Wealth (Martial Costs)+400 Wealth (Fair, Balanced, Etc)+50 (Talk to Sol)+150 Wealth (Colonial)+700 (Stewardship Options)=3020 Wealth
Income: 500 (Budgetary)+50 (Military Research is Gone)+200 (Trade)+200 (Colonial first bounty)+300 Wealth (Grubs in the Muck) +250 Wealth (Selling tanks) +30d100 (rolled 1469)+100 (Increased Taxes)=3079
Final Balance: 4694 Wealth
Rolling over Wealth Cost per turn after this turn: 700+75+50 (Fair, Balanced)+50 (Colonial)+50 (Debt Servicing)=925
Pre-fixed Income Per Turn, after this turn: Next turn you get 500 for not having as many tanks, 500 Budgetary, 50 Military Research, 200 (Trade), 250 a turn next turn in Colonial Output+50 (Educator donations)+100 (Increased tax income)+30d100=1650+(Average of 1500)
Debts to be Serviced
((Happens at the end of every second turn of a year)
1000 Wealth was added to the debt sheet, which means the cost of Debt Servicing increases by 50. That'll have to be paid from something, since the Debt Servicing budget is for 1700, not 1750. So, next turn you'll have to pay 50 more. And etc, etc until you are no longer borrowing.
*****
A/N: And so that's done with! Gonna start working on the Kansas City Shuffle update finally! The first thing, the Diplomatic Turn, will be coming after that, and while you are all waiting, lk has another Infodump, this time on naval stuff, and he's also available for questions.
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Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
We really need to do something about our finances.
We have a net gain of 59 every turn.
We have a net gain of 59 every turn.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Oh, that reminds me! One moment! Doing math. Adding something to it.
Arkatekt
Harbinger of Shitluck
Well shit. We came out of that with a net profit. Of course, it wasn't much, and that might not stay that way after the diplo and intrigue turns, but that is still pretty damn good considering all the things we did.
edit: ...Forgot about the debt... *sigh*
edit: ...Forgot about the debt... *sigh*
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Ginger Maniac
Subject to Gravity
- Location
- Old Blighty
We're drowning in a sea of options!
On the plus side, only one failure, and it's on a project that can be re-attempted.
On the plus side, only one failure, and it's on a project that can be re-attempted.
Dark Ness
Rises Where Silence Dies
- Location
- The Primordial Soup