- Location
- va
[X] Turn and fight
[X] Hit 'Em Hard
[X] Hit 'Em Hard
Pillars of Salt (Pirate Mecha Quest)
- Location
- USA
[X] Turn and fight
[X] Hit 'Em Hard
Hope this load out has had play testing. I hate it when I find out I ruined a build when I was learning the game.
[X] Hit 'Em Hard
Hope this load out has had play testing. I hate it when I find out I ruined a build when I was learning the game.
Gally
Got the whole word talking King Kiba
I wouldn't worry too much. Mecha are modular so your loadout isn't set in stone and I'm not gonna fuck you on mechanics, especially considering I've been so opaque about them (another poster noticed that I'm using Lancer rules but they're modified for my convenience and quest format). The important thing is that you choose a build that seems fun and fits the character you want to play.
That being said I realize I forgot to add your next trigger.
Lead or Inspire (+2)
- Give an inspiring speech, or motivate a group of people into action; efficiently and effectively administer organizations like companies, ship crews, groups of colonists or mining ventures; effectively command a platoon of soldiers in battle, or maybe an entire army.
- Location
- A place
Um .... do ship to ship or mechal combat doctrines matter at all?
Can we pull off a clever maneuver and put an advantage on our side?
What is Mandalay going to do?
Can we salvage a second Sybil or any other technology if we win?
If we attack first is there going to be political problems or do we have to wait for an attack before fighting?
Does self defense provide a valid reason or should we be worried that the Sett will make problems or make things difficult if they found out we fought a Setti ship?
For that matter what guns on our ship do we have?
Do we have a backup or secondary engine?
Or am I overthinking stuff?
By the way do you have plans to post a glossary of terms and information for this quest that we should know?
Can we pull off a clever maneuver and put an advantage on our side?
What is Mandalay going to do?
Can we salvage a second Sybil or any other technology if we win?
If we attack first is there going to be political problems or do we have to wait for an attack before fighting?
Does self defense provide a valid reason or should we be worried that the Sett will make problems or make things difficult if they found out we fought a Setti ship?
For that matter what guns on our ship do we have?
Do we have a backup or secondary engine?
Or am I overthinking stuff?
By the way do you have plans to post a glossary of terms and information for this quest that we should know?
Gally
Got the whole word talking King Kiba
This is the quest's first combat so I'm trying to ease us into it. For now, no fancy tricks. In the future, I'll try to provide more tactical information so that you can come up with more complex plans.
Knowing Mandalay she'll roll in guns blazing, shoot until nobody is moving, and claim all the credit next time she's out drinking.
EDIT: Hurr durr I mention the ship has a sibyl in the post.
This gets kind of complicated given your situation. The important thing to remember is that wit the Setti Inaan dying there is no real centralized authority. Certain factions will be mad that you're fighting a Setti ship, but those guys would already be mad at you considering who you're supporting. Others will be on your side.
The ship has basically already declared its intent by charging straight at you without broadcasting. That's about as clear a sign as you get that things are about to get murdery.
Standard ship-mounted rail guns and missile pods.
No.
Never. I enjoy writing quests because it lets me know what readers are thinking as they read - what confuses them, what they pick up on, how they theorize based on the information I give.
Sure. Ideally I would be writing so that you know enough about any terms that you need to know, but if you're particularly confused about something just mention it and I'll see whether I've fucked up in its use.
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[X] Turn and fight
[X] Hit 'Em Hard
[X] Hit 'Em Hard
- Location
- A place
[X] Turn and fight
[X] Hit 'Em Hard
[X] Hit 'Em Hard
- Location
- St. Petersburg
- Location
- Nowhere
Here it is obvious which won, but I insist you should have the vote that won show up in a spoiler at the start of the update.
Also, the tsundere needs some love and attention after this. She really trust us... For now.
Can we give it a name to make it less creepy? Is she sapient?
So, fighting time.
[X] Turn and fight
[X] Hit 'Em Hard
They expect us to run, so let's do the opposite!
A glossary would be good, such as what's the religion some seem to worship (Saat, was it?).
Gally
Got the whole word talking King Kiba
X
[x] Turn and Fight
[x] Hit 'Em Hard
[x] Hit 'Em Hard
"What's the play, Captain?"
You grip the armrest of your captain's chair until your knuckles are white, staring at the holographic display. The Baba Yaga races ever closer, but it's far, so far. The Setti ship is already gaining speed, its secondary engine warming up. It will be upon you soon.
You ping Chalcedony and Johann, opening comms so that they can hear your orders as well as the bridge crew that stands before you. "We stand and fight," you announce, leaping to your feet. "Wait until they're close, then throw us into reverse. Mecha will disembark and the Ahriman will throw everything we've got at these Setti fucks. Kick their teeth in!"
A ragged cheer goes up from the bridge crew, and your pilots ping their receipt - Chalcedony with savage, excited urgency, Johann with grim understanding. "Cecilia, you have the ship," you tell your helmswoman, but before she can so much as nod you're racing for the elevator.
By the time you arrive in the mecha bay, Kayla is waiting for you with a plug suit. She politely averts her eyes as you strip out of your exercise clothes and step into the slick jumpsuit, the material contracting until it hugs every ridge and curve of your body.
The mecha bay is alive with action, engineers dashing left and right in a mad scramble to prepare for the fight ahead. You see Chalcedony atop the scaffolding that runs up the side of Primogenitura, shouting and gesticulating wildly as the mecha undergoes the last bits of prep. Johann sits perched atop Gottfried's shoulder, his legs crossed, eyes close, mouthing a silent prayer.
"Clear the fucking lanes!" You shout as you dash for Jabberwock's scaffolding. In your haste, and the bay's chaos, you barrel headlong into an engineer, knocking him to the ground with a startled yelp – but there's no time to apologize, not now. You scamper up the scaffolding's metal bars with a swiftness and surety that's been drilled into your bones by hour upon endless hour of practice until you arrive at the mecha's shoulder. The fresh, unchipped paint job greets you as you leap from the scaffolding to the mecha proper.
What is Jabberwock's paint job?
[] Primary color
[] Secondary color
Your mecha's head is tilted forward, the back of it separated from the neck to reveal the cockpit. You flash a thumbs up at Kayla down below, and she signals that all is good to go.
As you drop into the cockpit, the sound of pre-sortie chaos fades to a dull roar at the edge of your awareness. You settle into the padded seat, its design familiar but its details and quirks so new. Your old mecha had fit you like a long-worn glove, the comfort of familiarity, but you know that will return with time. Jabberwock hums beneath you, its PRISM engine prepped and idling, as if eager to leap into the fray.
You slip your arms into the long tubes at either side of you, each coming up to about your elbow, and your hands curl around the controls within. Your legs enter the stirrups, extending up to nearly your knees, and you flex your feet a few times to test the responsiveness of the pedals. Jabberwock purrs like a contented cat around you.
You wiggle in your seat, lining yourself up just right, and press your back flat against the seat. Complex machinery housed in the seat whirs to life, and the icy shock of connection races through you as the long, thin needle extends from the seat and into the port at the junction between your neck and skull.
For a moment, there is only blinding, cleansing pain. Then the connection is made and your gasp, arching your back involuntarily, teeth grinding against one another, cybernetics in your brain racing to life as they synchronize with Jabberwock. Information floods you as if a dam has broken, Jaberwock's sensors feeding you a relentless, unending stream of data – temperatures, distances, radiation levels, calculations – all boiled into a single, ferocious instinct. The cockpit begins to fill with a clear liquid, but already you're only half there. The rest of you is within Jabberwock's systems, seeing what it sees, feeling what it feels. The mecha bay stretches out beneath you, engineers clearing the way, shouting desperately to each other.
"Need more coolant!"
"Where's the fucking mag-wrench?"
"Kayla, get over-"
"Luthor I need a-"
Each of the dozens of conversations reverberates in your skull, Jabberwock bypassing your ears and feeding the words directly to your brain. You block them out with an effort of will and inhale deep, filling your lungs with a thick, breathable fluid that will disperse force and keep your human body whole despite the carnage that consumes Jabberwock. It tastes of dust, and childhood, and the thrill of battle.
You open your eyes, both human and machine, and disengage the mag-locks that hold Jabberwock in place. Cecilia's voice comes to you, steady as a rock. "Primogenitura is online. Gottfried is online," she says, even though the feel of heat on your skin and the taste of PRISM in the air has told you this already. "Skipper, can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear." You open a shared comms channel between Chalcedony, Johann and Cecilia, and yourself. "Pilots, move out."
Metal groans and PRISM fills the air as the three mecha begin to move. You can feel Jabberwock's systems working like they're your own flesh and bone, a twinge here, a stiffness there – standard start-up issues, nothing to be concerned about. A massive section of the Ahriman's walls has pulled up to give you a port of exit, and brilliant sunshine floods the bay.
You reach the exit and reach one hand up to grab hold of an iron bar just below the ceiling, steadying Jabberwock as you lean out over the edge of the ship. Fifty feet beneath you the dunes flash by, and again Cecilia's voice is in your head.
"Everyone strap in," she calls. "We're reversing in three minutes. Impact in three and a half."
The countdown appears at the edge of your vision, big red numbers flashing ominously. You ping Chalcedony and Johann, and they ping back affirmative. The three of you swing out into the open air, and you slam your palm onto the Ahriman's metal exterior. The mag-lock's built into your hands and feet activate, allowing you to cling to the side of the ship despite the wind that howls ferociously around you. High above, the cloudless blue sky stretches infinitely in all directions, the sun hanging heavy like the unflinching eye of god.
Jabberwock sings around you as you clamber up to the top of the Ahriman. Though Primogenitura and Gottfried are not quite as quick as Jabberwock, they join you in short order, readying their weapons. Primogenitura flexes her hands, and the golden bands of of hyper-tough alloyed steel that wind around red knuckles sputter and spark with PRISM energy. Gottfried unslings a long rifle from his back and checks the sight.
You can see the Setti ship approaching in the distance. It is an angular, heavy thing, nearly a hundred feet tall, dual PRISM engines kicking up billowing clouds of sand that trail after it like golden, undulating snakes. Four mecha cling to its sides, waiting patiently, and you remove the oversized anti-material rifle from where it sits magnetized at your back.
The Setti mecha are painted in the city's colors, green with white trim, but there is some small amount of personality worked into their decoration. You spot a lean, agile looking KNIGHT-class with the flowing, looping Setti script inscribed across its torso and arms. A short BISHOP-class with overlong arms and a pulse cannon on either shoulder wears a bracelet of beads around one wrist. Another KNIGHT class has painted skulls lining its head. A ROOK-class, taller than even Primogenitura, has a cluster of wires that run between the back of its neck and its shoulder blades, painted to mimic the jewelry that Johann so often wears in his hair.
You sync your rifle's sights to your optics and line up a shot on the BISHOP, exhaling slowly before squeezing the trigger. The rifle roars like thunder and kicks back hard into your shoulder, flinging a gleaming brass casing high into the air before it tumbles forgotten to the churning sands below. The BISHOP jerks to one side, causing your shot to ricochet harmlessly off the Setti ship's heavy armor plating. You grunt, sliding another bullet into the gun.
"This will be the first time I fight Setti pilots," Johann says, through a private comms channel.
You frown, taking your time to line up another shot. "That can't be right." Johann came aboard the Ahriman a little over year ago, and you've tangled with Sett at least a few times since then. "The Calasis Sea job?"
"A joint operation between Sett and Ranchicourt," Johann replies. "I was closer to the Ranchicourt pilots, so you asked me to hold them off while you engaged the Setti ones."
"Huh." You pull the trigger again, and this time your bullet strikes true, tearing through one of the BISHOP's pulse cannons. Smoky rainbow vents into the open air for a moment before the mecha can reroute power. "Hey, fuck yeah!"
Johann pings amusement. "An excellent shot."
"Is this going to be an issue for you?" You ask, again reloading the heavy rifle. "I would've asked before but I could've sworn we'd done this already."
"If there were reason for concern, I would've mentioned it before now," Johann says, his voice somber but determined. "I have been prepared to fight my countrymen since before I joined the Ahriman, but coincidence hasn't demanded it until now."
"Worried you'll have to shoot at a friend?" The Setti ship draws closer, closer, and the countdown in the corner of your vision reaches its final stage. You raise the gun again, but the mecha have wised up to your tricks and have moved back to take cover behind the ship itself.
"Not as such," Johann admits. As if to demonstrate he takes aim with his own weapon and fires off a few three burst rounds, forcing the mecha to press themselves tighter to their ship. "I feel…sad. I wish this were a perfect world, so I wouldn't have to inflict violence upon those I once called brother, sister." He shakes his head. "But this is not a perfect world."
The countdown hits zero and the Ahriman turns, hard and fast. A curtain of sand rises high into the air, and for the briefest moment the ship tilts as if it's about to flip – but your steersmen are veterans all, and the Ahriman rights itself a moment later.
You are now facing the Setti ship head on – it does not angle left or right, but stays the course. The Ahriman's battering ram, forged of metal stripped from salvaged mecha, shines in the afternoon light, a single tusk that juts imperiously from the front of your ship. The two ships race closer, and suddenly the taste of PRISM assaults your tongue, metallic and acrid, a taste you know only too well.
"Ceci! Rail guns!" You can see them now, extending from beneath the armor of the Setti ship, coils glowing with rainbow light. "Prep inter-"
"I have informed the helmswoman of incoming fire." The sibyl's voice cuts through the fire of your thoughts, calm and detached, as if she only partly paying attention to the words. "Intercepting fire is prepped."
The truth of her words is proven a moment later. The Setti ship fires, a barrage of hypersonic metal, but the Ahriman shakes and responds almost simultaneously. The space between the two ships, still rapidly shrinking, fills with explosions, and fragments of superheated steel rain down upon you. You raise one arm to shield Jabberwock's more vulnerable head – beside you, Gottfried takes cover behind Primogenitura, who stands proud as debris bounces harmlessly off her armor.
The Setti ship is nearly upon you now, or perhaps you are nearly upon it. Chalcedony pings you with jump calculations, your cybernetics processing the proposal in half a heartbeat. You make a few quick alterations to the plan, then ping back affirmative. The bottom half of Primogenitura's calves extends out, PRISM energy leaking from within, and then in twin explosions of rainbow smoke she is thrown skyward in a high, curving arc.
The Setti mecha scramble to respond, firing wildly into the air, but their weapons are unable to find their mark. The Ahriman shudders beneath you and the taste of engine PRISM – fuller, mellower than the PRISM of the rail guns – fills your mouth as your ship accelerates into overburn. Taking an engine past its limits like this will mean a temporary stall and hell for your engineers, but it's all worth it when the two ships slam together, and the Ahriman's battering ram slices through the armor plating like a savage sword. The Setti ship roars like a wounded beast and vents PRISM into the air, still shuddering. The Ahriman has made landing.
The force of the impact actually dislodges Jabberwock despite the mag-locks, and you're thrown down the length of the ship, head over heels. You turn into the throw, rolling back to your feet, and see Primogenitura land atop the Setti ship with an explosion of force. A KNIGHT rushes to meet her, its submachine guns chattering, but Primogenitura throws her open palm out towards the oncoming mecha and the shotgun integrated into left arm fires with a deafening roar. Primogenitura's arm snaps back, spent casing ejecting from her elbow, and then she slams her fists into the stunned KNIGHT, right then left.
Your integrated mortar system whirs to life on your back, and heavy thump that reverberates through Jabberwock's frame sends the explosive cartridge into the air. You ping Chalcedony, warning her, and Primogenitura drops to one knee and raises an arm above her head.
A rainbow dome sparks to life above Primogenitura, just in time to defend against a cluster of explosions that erupt across the Setti ship. The Setti KNIGHT isn't so lucky, and the force of the explosion catches him in the chest, throwing him to the ground. Primogenitura drops her shield and rolls, closing the distance, then fires her shotgun into the KNIGHT's head point-blank.
Before his engine can completely fail you've turned your attention away. Johann was crouched when the ships impacted, and the numerous points of contact allowed him to hold his ground when you were thrown. He lays fire down on the Setti ship, and though his hits are rare and glancing, they keep the other BISHOP pinned.
You ping the sibyl. "Is it still only four mecha?"
No sooner are the words past your lips than the response comes. "Three now, Captain," the sibyl says. "The Striking Vipers have broken through the Setti marine line and are holding-"
"Good!" You drop to one knee, lining up a shot. The Setti BISHOP has tagged Gottfried with its remaining pulse cannon and is closing the distance, knife extending from its wrist, but your bullet tears a chunk from its thigh and it stumbles, allowing Gottfried to recover. The black-blue mecha pulls an eight shot revolver from its leg and fires a cylindrical canister that spins end over end before exploding into a blinding flash of light.
Satisfied that Johann can handle himself, you turn your attention back to Chalcedony. Primogenitura is engaged in fitful combat with the remaining Setti KNIGHT, which works desperately to keep out of range of her fists and shotgun. You raise your rifle. "Where the hell is Mandalay?" You ask the sibyl, peering down the sight.
"The Baba Yaga is still approa-" the sibyl's words are cut off by the scream of Jabberwock's proximity alarms. You jerk instinctively to the side as the heavy head of a war-hammer screams past your ear.
The ROOK class is on top of you before you can even blink, circling its war-hammer to prepare for another swing. You raise your rifle but before you can fire the war-hammer comes again, knocking the barrel wide. You retreat, pinging mayday, but neither Gottfried nor Primogenitura is free to come to your aid. The ROOK charges, lowering an armored shoulder, and the Ahriman's rail guns swing to follow it. Cecilia and the bridge, it seems, have heard your cry for help – but though the rail guns fire, the Setti ship intercepts their shots. Unimpeded, the ROOK barrels into you, sending you both tumbling to the ground.
The fall jars the rifle from your hands, and it spins as it slides across the ground, out of reach. You gasp and pop your tactical knife from its sheath in your forearm, catching and twirling it deftly between your fingers. Before you can stick it anywhere, however, the ROOK hammers its fists into your chest. Lights flash across your vision, your teeth buzz with adrenaline as your cybernetics try to compensate for the pain, and it's all you can do to slam the knife at the ROOK's neck.
By some miracle, the blade finds its way between two plates of armor. The ROOK spasms, hands reaching for the knife, and you manage to get one leg in between the two of you and shove the larger mecha away with a strong kick. You scramble to your feet just in time to avoid the ROOK's next charge, spinning as it clips your side, and draw your pistol.
The ROOK has a weapon in its hand as well, a squat shotgun that sends Jabberwock's alarms ringing in your skull. Prediction software charts a course through the air and you dive into a roll – but the spread from the weapon is wider than your systems anticipated, and you catch half the shot along your hips.
Fire spreads across your body, but you clench your teeth and scream, venting the pain out along with the sound. Your pistol swings up and fires twice at the ROOK, and though both shots bounce off its armor it's forced to check its charge. You fire again, wild, stumbling backwards, but the ROOK advances implacably. Its weapon roars, and the alarms come too late. You catch the blast full in the chest and fall backwards, Jabberwock's systems screeching at you through the haze of pain and adrenaline.
The ROOK stalks over to where its war-hammer fell when it first tackled you, taking the massive weapon by the shaft and smacking the head lightly against its palm. It approaches you carefully, winding up for the finishing blow, and then brings the war-hammer down over its head in a brutal arc. Jabberwock's alarms are a song now, a frantic ballad that pounds against your bones. You dig one elbow into the ground beneath you and push as hard as you can, and somehow get your head out of the way of the incoming blow. The war-hammer strikes the Ahriman's shell, and the keening sound of metal on metal fills your ears. The ROOK, bent over as a result of its swing, tries to straighten – but before it can you jerk your legs up, locking them around the mecha's head. It pounds on your legs with its fist, trying to dislodge you but you hold fast, fingers scrabbling for what your sensors assure you lays just beyond your head.
Your rifle. Your fingers find it and you pull it to you, still loaded. The ROOK bucks, servomotors squealing, and for a moment it begins to lift you bodily from the ground. You slam your free palm to the Ahriman and engage the mag-lock, keeping you anchored, and with your other arm struggle to work the oversized rifle into position. The ROOK bellows something unintelligible, and your systems overhear a broad-spectrum mayday ping – but your allies are not the only ones too occupied to help. You jam the barrel of the rifle into the ROOK's throat and squeeze the trigger.
A ROOK is a study machine, amongst the sturdiest ever forged by mankind. But even it has its weaknesses, and there is very little that can withstand a point-blank shot from an anti-material rifle. The bullet tears through the ROOK's neck as if it's not even there, nearly severing the mecha's head from its body. PRISM vents wildly from the decorated wires, shredded by the bullet and the fragments of the mecha's neck that followed it. The machine shakes and shrieks at a pitch too high for a normal human to hear, swaying this way and that before it finally topples.
You take a moment to run system diagnostics, breathing heavily. Jabberwock has sustained serious damage, but nothing that will take you out of the fight and certainly nothing you haven't seen before. You roll onto your hands and knees and slowly work your way to your feet.
Around you the battle still rages. The Ahriman and the Setti ship exchange rail gun fire – most is intercepted, but a few win through to score deep gouges in the other ship's hull. Primogenitura remains locked in combat with the Setti KNIGHT, both mecha leaking PRISM energy, and though you can't see Gottfried or its opponent you can taste their PRISM signatures on the far side of the Setti vessel.
You ping Cecilia, but before she can respond a shadow falls across the Ahriman. You look up, PRISM flooding your taste buds, to see the Baba Yaga sailing across the sky.
Its PRISM trail shows you that it used a nearby dune like a ramp, launching itself up over the interlocked ships. For a brief, stunned moment the sounds of battle fades as the participants look up – and then the Baba Yaga lands, PRISM engines wailing and throwing sand everywhere as it bobs drunkenly before righting itself. Rail guns explode into action, the Ahriman and the Baba Yaga firing in a synchronized barrage. The Setti ship intercepts valiantly but there are too many guns, and bullets punch in through armored plates and out the other side.
It takes you a handful of moments to realize it's over. The Setti ship's engines fail completely, and your pilots ping victory, their enemies shredded by rail guns. Your systems ping you as Mandalay opens a comms channel, and for a moment there's only hysterical laughter. "Sorry for making you wait!" Mandalay finally manages. The Baba Yaga drifts around the side of the Setti vessel, rail guns twitching as it sizes up any remaining defenses. "Better late than never, neh?"
"Neh," you reply, hollowly. The battle thrill rushes out of you, leaving you woozy and exhausted.
"So how are we splitting this bitch?" Mandalay asks, the excitement dripping from her voice. "Fuck, I love being a pirate."
[] Fifty-Fifty
"We're partners, at least for now. What's mine is yours, Mandalay."
[] I get everything.
"I appreciate the help, but riding in at the last second doesn't win you any salvage."
[] Compromise
Please give a percentage (70/30? 60/40?)
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10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
How much does damage did we take?
I'm in favor of a kind of split where we get a fixed percentage to undo all the damage we took, and then we split the remainder fairly.
- Location
- USA
I second this idea. Something for damages then 50/50
- Location
- Where I an right now
[X] Primary color
- [x] Purple
[X] Secondary color
- [x] Green
When I heard plugsuit I thought of this
[X] I get everything.
"I appreciate the help, but riding in at the last second doesn't win you any salvage."
-[X] Compromise
—[X] if he complains, let him haggle is down to 80/20 in our favor
- [x] Purple
[X] Secondary color
- [x] Green
When I heard plugsuit I thought of this
[X] I get everything.
"I appreciate the help, but riding in at the last second doesn't win you any salvage."
-[X] Compromise
—[X] if he complains, let him haggle is down to 80/20 in our favor
[X] Primary color
- [x] Purple
[X] Secondary color
- [x] Red
Going with favorites for this, plus I reckon this would look good
[X] Compromise
-[X] Take off damage repair estimates, then even split the rest.
Are we haggling down to this? Or is this a straight offer?
- [x] Purple
[X] Secondary color
- [x] Red
Going with favorites for this, plus I reckon this would look good
[X] Compromise
-[X] Take off damage repair estimates, then even split the rest.
Are we haggling down to this? Or is this a straight offer?