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I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Waltzing in a Mechsuit: a Sci-fi Mercenary Quest
- Thread starter I.F. Ister
- Start date
- Original
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Alrighty, voting is closed and thank you for voting!
Our winners
[X] "wait to name it till we've gotten back." with 5 votes
[X] Help Smitty integrate with the crew with 5 votes
[X] Check on Kellows, she how she's holding up with 3 votes
[X] ...Robecca Harnought, that rich heiress you rescued with 3 votes
Our winners
[X] "wait to name it till we've gotten back." with 5 votes
[X] Help Smitty integrate with the crew with 5 votes
[X] Check on Kellows, she how she's holding up with 3 votes
[X] ...Robecca Harnought, that rich heiress you rescued with 3 votes
Standoff-ish Aftermath, Mental Check-up, and… Calling… Her
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
You enter the makeshift mess hall in the cargo bay, as the actual mess hall was now one with the stars thanks to a shell, to see the aftermath of a terse standoff. On one side of the room was Smitty and two security officers, Anders and Gary, seemingly protecting him. And on the other side of the room are a selection of former crew members of the David's Horn, about seven in total.
Currently, the crew members are sitting off to the side, in a group at a table. They occasionally shoot dirty looks to Smitty and the sec crew, but nothing more than that, right now, at least. There's some evidence of an altercation, with some weird marks covering Smitty, likely from the mess hall's food. One of the crewmembers is sporting a bruise on the cheek, likely from one of the sec crew breaking it up.
Some of the crew look up at you as you enter, something akin to respect in their eyes. Lately, some of the former members of the David's Horn's crew have been looking towards you for guidance and leadership with most of their officers dead and their captain in a medical coma. They'll probably follow your lead in things, though you don't have any actual authority over them. The only person here you do have actual authority over is Smitty, as he's one of your pilots, and the source of the current conflict.
You're standing in the doorway to the hall, looking in at the current situation. You've got a few moments to make a decision.
What's your first move?
-[ ] Assess the situation, figure out what happened here first
-[ ] It's obvious what happened here, the crew members got angry and decided to take it out on Smitty. Punish them for it.
-[ ] Smitty shouldn't have antagonized them, because why else would they have done that? Punish him for it.
-[ ] Write in
~~~~~~~
You find Margarat Kellows in the launch bays, sitting in front of her fucked up Thunder and leaning against a crate. Janna finished stripping it last 'night', or at least as close to night as you can get in a place like this, and is currently directing the surviving engineers of the Horn in fixing up the engines.
Margarat… isn't looking good. She's got an open container sitting on the crate beside her, it has a strong, alcoholic scent to it. The pilot's eyes are sunken, with heavy bags under them and it looks like she hasn't had any food recently. Her cheeks look stained with tears and a soft-looking, light red blanket sits in her lap, her fists bunching it up. Her legs, half covered by the blanket, are splayed out in front of her.
Kellows doesn't seem to acknowledge you on approach, though she speaks up when you come within a couple steps. "Hey, Sam." Her voice is missing its characteristic buzz and fervor. She just sounds… tired.
"What's going on?" You ask, sliding down next to her, racking your memories to try and figure out what's happening. You don't bother with 'are you okay' or things like that, it's obvious that she's not.
She shrugs, going back to staring at the machine. You nod and sit there in amicable silence for who knows how long, until the pilot next to you finally speaks.
"I'm…" Her voice catches in her throat, growing hoarse and shaky. "I'm a fuck-up."
"You're not a fuck-up."
"I am!" She turns on you, eyes red and tears threatening to spill. "If I hadn't missed that Footsoldier, then you wouldn't have had to turn back, and you'd have been able to save the ship! …a-and K-ka-mi-milla." She struggles to get Captain Kamilla's name out.
You're not sure what to do, but you can't just leave her there, can you?
-[ ] "We'll get them back for this, I promise." (Begins the quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath)
-[ ] Don't say anything, just sit there (Denies the quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath)
Quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath
Those pirate bastards destroyed the David's Horn and hurt Captain Kamilla, they must pay for this. One of the pirate ships was disabled in the fight, but the other is still out there. Track it down and murder it
Rewards: +15 Renown, Margarat's eternal loyalty, and +1 to acquiring Trait: Shipper (0/5). Plus whatever loot you gain from killing the pirates.
~~~~~~~
(Are you in range of a relay? Coin flip: Heads, yes, yes you are in range)
You squint at the comms station in the bridge of the Itari Cruiser, one hand holding the receiver to your ear and the other hovering over the dialing buttons. You really, really didn't want to have to do this, ever, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
You press the first sequence of numbers.
If you were honest with yourself, you'd been half-hoping that you weren't in range of a relay. As that would've given you the ability to excuse yourself from making the call. But no, the fates aren't that kind, not at all.
You press the second sequence of numbers.
Dread slowly rises within you, memories of the last time you'd talked to… her… racing through your mind. Your shoulders shake as a shudder creeps up your spine.
You press the third sequence of numbers.
You brush it off as best you can, though your fingers still quiver as they press the keys. You've got nothing to fear from her, she's just a little… odd. But even as you try to convince yourself of this, you know, deep down, that it's nothing more than a lie.
You press the fourth sequence of numbers.
You find yourself breathing quick and shallow breaths, which you quickly quell. It wouldn't be good to show weakness in front of a predator like her.
You press the fifth and final sequence of numbers, barely able to keep your finger from shaking too much to press the last key.
There's half-a-second of dial noise before it's immediately picked up by, presumably, her.
"Sahm Vonkarthah!" And there's her voice, so elegant and sweet and deceptive, like the she-devil that she is. That drawl of hers still haunts your dreams, speaking words of 'marriage' and 'children'. You suppress a shudder as she continues. "To what do Aah owe tha pleasuh?"
"Hello, Miss Harnought." You return the greeting, trying to be as professional as possible. "I'll cut right to the chase, I'm in trouble and I need your he-" You can't seem to get it out. "Your heeeh." Come on, you bastard! Just spit it out! "Your heee-"
"Mai help?" The she-devil correctly guesses your request. "Wai, Aah'd be honah'd to do so! Ahll Aah need is your location and Aah'll send a task force ovuh right quick."
Now's your chance! If you deny her right now, you might be able to avoid dealing with her again!
-[ ] Yes! Take the opportunity and escape!
-[ ] …No. As much as it might pain you, you need that help. That escaped pirate ship still knows your location and is sure to come back with more friends. Besides, you escaped her clutches once, surely you can do it again.
~~~~~~~
POV: Robecca Harnought
The grin that split across Robecca Harnought's face is positively glowing. Her blonde ringlets spilled along her head as she twirled around her room, hugging a picture frame to her chest. Unbecoming giggles more fitting to see coming from a young school girl rather than the grown woman she is spilled from her mouth.
She came to a stop before her pink and white, canopy bed, throwing herself back first onto the overflowing sheets, the picture tight against her dress as it flows behind her. She lifts the frame, her hair splayed out in a mock-halo, and runs a finger down the side of the face displayed in the picture, His face.
Sam Vonkartha… What a man! She giggles, thoughts racing as fast as a Neon Headlights' racer. Ever since that day, exactly three months, five days, seven hours, and… thirteen minutes ago when He rescued her from those dastardly marauders.
The young heiress can feel her heart skip a beat just thinking about it. How brave He was fighting them off! Such a romantic man! The silly grin on her face widens as she realizes that now it's her chance to save Him! What a romantic opportunity!
With one last look at the picture, which she had gone to great lengths to get, Robecca leapt from her bed. There aren't very many pictures of Sam Vonkartha out there, which means she had to take alternative methods of procuring them. By which, of course, she means that she had her father's men hack into security networks and send her the footage from the cameras. It wasn't easy, but it had to be done!
Her father approved of her choice in men, after all, He is the grandson of the one and only Wilfus Vonkartha and, even if he comes from the Arthus branch, that means something.
Robecca opened her walk-in closet and began sorting through the selection, stopping as she came across a sealed bag. With trembling fingers, she unsealed it, revealing the jacket inside. Immediately, she felt slightly heady as the scent hit her and slipped inside her nose. The smell was of Sam and the scent He left when he gave her his jacket. She frowned as she noted that it was, once again, missing something, something she couldn't quite place.
A consequence of a maid mistaking it for dirty clothing, as if anything He wore could ever be considered dirty, and sending it off to be washed. The maid needed to be punished and what Robecca had done to her… well, it was safe to say that something like that would never ever happen again.
In an attempt to regain the smell, she had her father's men chemically synthesize it. It was chemically perfect! …yet something was still missing, something completely incomprehensible to all but her own mind. There's only one solution here, she needs to get it from the source!
And, wouldn't you know it, an opportunity to do so just came up! What good fortune!
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: I forgot to give you the information for the ship yesterday, so I put it in the White Company's page, along with updating it with Smitty and the new MBFs. Robecca has an accent reminiscent of the American South's upper class. Voting will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST and thank you for voting.
Currently, the crew members are sitting off to the side, in a group at a table. They occasionally shoot dirty looks to Smitty and the sec crew, but nothing more than that, right now, at least. There's some evidence of an altercation, with some weird marks covering Smitty, likely from the mess hall's food. One of the crewmembers is sporting a bruise on the cheek, likely from one of the sec crew breaking it up.
Some of the crew look up at you as you enter, something akin to respect in their eyes. Lately, some of the former members of the David's Horn's crew have been looking towards you for guidance and leadership with most of their officers dead and their captain in a medical coma. They'll probably follow your lead in things, though you don't have any actual authority over them. The only person here you do have actual authority over is Smitty, as he's one of your pilots, and the source of the current conflict.
You're standing in the doorway to the hall, looking in at the current situation. You've got a few moments to make a decision.
What's your first move?
-[ ] Assess the situation, figure out what happened here first
-[ ] It's obvious what happened here, the crew members got angry and decided to take it out on Smitty. Punish them for it.
-[ ] Smitty shouldn't have antagonized them, because why else would they have done that? Punish him for it.
-[ ] Write in
~~~~~~~
You find Margarat Kellows in the launch bays, sitting in front of her fucked up Thunder and leaning against a crate. Janna finished stripping it last 'night', or at least as close to night as you can get in a place like this, and is currently directing the surviving engineers of the Horn in fixing up the engines.
Margarat… isn't looking good. She's got an open container sitting on the crate beside her, it has a strong, alcoholic scent to it. The pilot's eyes are sunken, with heavy bags under them and it looks like she hasn't had any food recently. Her cheeks look stained with tears and a soft-looking, light red blanket sits in her lap, her fists bunching it up. Her legs, half covered by the blanket, are splayed out in front of her.
Kellows doesn't seem to acknowledge you on approach, though she speaks up when you come within a couple steps. "Hey, Sam." Her voice is missing its characteristic buzz and fervor. She just sounds… tired.
"What's going on?" You ask, sliding down next to her, racking your memories to try and figure out what's happening. You don't bother with 'are you okay' or things like that, it's obvious that she's not.
She shrugs, going back to staring at the machine. You nod and sit there in amicable silence for who knows how long, until the pilot next to you finally speaks.
"I'm…" Her voice catches in her throat, growing hoarse and shaky. "I'm a fuck-up."
"You're not a fuck-up."
"I am!" She turns on you, eyes red and tears threatening to spill. "If I hadn't missed that Footsoldier, then you wouldn't have had to turn back, and you'd have been able to save the ship! …a-and K-ka-mi-milla." She struggles to get Captain Kamilla's name out.
You're not sure what to do, but you can't just leave her there, can you?
-[ ] "We'll get them back for this, I promise." (Begins the quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath)
-[ ] Don't say anything, just sit there (Denies the quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath)
Quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath
Those pirate bastards destroyed the David's Horn and hurt Captain Kamilla, they must pay for this. One of the pirate ships was disabled in the fight, but the other is still out there. Track it down and murder it
Rewards: +15 Renown, Margarat's eternal loyalty, and +1 to acquiring Trait: Shipper (0/5). Plus whatever loot you gain from killing the pirates.
~~~~~~~
(Are you in range of a relay? Coin flip: Heads, yes, yes you are in range)
You squint at the comms station in the bridge of the Itari Cruiser, one hand holding the receiver to your ear and the other hovering over the dialing buttons. You really, really didn't want to have to do this, ever, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
You press the first sequence of numbers.
If you were honest with yourself, you'd been half-hoping that you weren't in range of a relay. As that would've given you the ability to excuse yourself from making the call. But no, the fates aren't that kind, not at all.
You press the second sequence of numbers.
Dread slowly rises within you, memories of the last time you'd talked to… her… racing through your mind. Your shoulders shake as a shudder creeps up your spine.
You press the third sequence of numbers.
You brush it off as best you can, though your fingers still quiver as they press the keys. You've got nothing to fear from her, she's just a little… odd. But even as you try to convince yourself of this, you know, deep down, that it's nothing more than a lie.
You press the fourth sequence of numbers.
You find yourself breathing quick and shallow breaths, which you quickly quell. It wouldn't be good to show weakness in front of a predator like her.
You press the fifth and final sequence of numbers, barely able to keep your finger from shaking too much to press the last key.
There's half-a-second of dial noise before it's immediately picked up by, presumably, her.
"Sahm Vonkarthah!" And there's her voice, so elegant and sweet and deceptive, like the she-devil that she is. That drawl of hers still haunts your dreams, speaking words of 'marriage' and 'children'. You suppress a shudder as she continues. "To what do Aah owe tha pleasuh?"
"Hello, Miss Harnought." You return the greeting, trying to be as professional as possible. "I'll cut right to the chase, I'm in trouble and I need your he-" You can't seem to get it out. "Your heeeh." Come on, you bastard! Just spit it out! "Your heee-"
"Mai help?" The she-devil correctly guesses your request. "Wai, Aah'd be honah'd to do so! Ahll Aah need is your location and Aah'll send a task force ovuh right quick."
Now's your chance! If you deny her right now, you might be able to avoid dealing with her again!
-[ ] Yes! Take the opportunity and escape!
-[ ] …No. As much as it might pain you, you need that help. That escaped pirate ship still knows your location and is sure to come back with more friends. Besides, you escaped her clutches once, surely you can do it again.
~~~~~~~
POV: Robecca Harnought
The grin that split across Robecca Harnought's face is positively glowing. Her blonde ringlets spilled along her head as she twirled around her room, hugging a picture frame to her chest. Unbecoming giggles more fitting to see coming from a young school girl rather than the grown woman she is spilled from her mouth.
She came to a stop before her pink and white, canopy bed, throwing herself back first onto the overflowing sheets, the picture tight against her dress as it flows behind her. She lifts the frame, her hair splayed out in a mock-halo, and runs a finger down the side of the face displayed in the picture, His face.
Sam Vonkartha… What a man! She giggles, thoughts racing as fast as a Neon Headlights' racer. Ever since that day, exactly three months, five days, seven hours, and… thirteen minutes ago when He rescued her from those dastardly marauders.
The young heiress can feel her heart skip a beat just thinking about it. How brave He was fighting them off! Such a romantic man! The silly grin on her face widens as she realizes that now it's her chance to save Him! What a romantic opportunity!
With one last look at the picture, which she had gone to great lengths to get, Robecca leapt from her bed. There aren't very many pictures of Sam Vonkartha out there, which means she had to take alternative methods of procuring them. By which, of course, she means that she had her father's men hack into security networks and send her the footage from the cameras. It wasn't easy, but it had to be done!
Her father approved of her choice in men, after all, He is the grandson of the one and only Wilfus Vonkartha and, even if he comes from the Arthus branch, that means something.
Robecca opened her walk-in closet and began sorting through the selection, stopping as she came across a sealed bag. With trembling fingers, she unsealed it, revealing the jacket inside. Immediately, she felt slightly heady as the scent hit her and slipped inside her nose. The smell was of Sam and the scent He left when he gave her his jacket. She frowned as she noted that it was, once again, missing something, something she couldn't quite place.
A consequence of a maid mistaking it for dirty clothing, as if anything He wore could ever be considered dirty, and sending it off to be washed. The maid needed to be punished and what Robecca had done to her… well, it was safe to say that something like that would never ever happen again.
In an attempt to regain the smell, she had her father's men chemically synthesize it. It was chemically perfect! …yet something was still missing, something completely incomprehensible to all but her own mind. There's only one solution here, she needs to get it from the source!
And, wouldn't you know it, an opportunity to do so just came up! What good fortune!
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: I forgot to give you the information for the ship yesterday, so I put it in the White Company's page, along with updating it with Smitty and the new MBFs. Robecca has an accent reminiscent of the American South's upper class. Voting will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST and thank you for voting.
...WELP!
So question. Do we want to trade the threat of pirates for the need to escape HER???
- Pronouns
- He
[X] Assess the situation, figure out what happened here first
[X] "We'll get them back for this, I promise." (Begins the quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath)
[X] …No. As much as it might pain you, you need that help. That escaped pirate ship still knows your location and is sure to come back with more friends. Besides, you escaped her clutches once, surely you can do it again.
[X] "We'll get them back for this, I promise." (Begins the quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath)
[X] …No. As much as it might pain you, you need that help. That escaped pirate ship still knows your location and is sure to come back with more friends. Besides, you escaped her clutches once, surely you can do it again.
Vote closed
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Alrighty, voting is now closed and thank you for voting.
Our winners:
[X] Assess the situation, figure out what happened here first with 3 votes
[X] "We'll get them back for this, I promise." (Begins the quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath) with 2 votes
[X] …No. As much as it might pain you, you need that help. That escaped pirate ship still knows your location and is sure to come back with more friends. Besides, you escaped her clutches once, surely you can do it again. with 2 votes
Our winners:
[X] Assess the situation, figure out what happened here first with 3 votes
[X] "We'll get them back for this, I promise." (Begins the quest: WLW, Women Loving Wrath) with 2 votes
[X] …No. As much as it might pain you, you need that help. That escaped pirate ship still knows your location and is sure to come back with more friends. Besides, you escaped her clutches once, surely you can do it again. with 2 votes
Assessing the Situation, Promises Made, and Making Deals with the She-Devil
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Your eyes drift across the makeshift mess hall as you approach Smitty first.
He looks a lot like you imagined him, young, with what appears to be stubble growing on his face. Glasses and a head of pale hair complete the picture of a lanky young adult. Pieces of food, nutrient paste mostly, grey and gravy-like, with chunky cubes to give it some texture. Looks like the crew didn't want to waste the good stuff on him.
"What happened here?" You ask no one in particular, asking it to the group as a whole.
"I walked in; they didn't recognize me and put two and two together." Smitty shrugs after a moment of internal translation, picking at the tray of food sitting on the table. "Not that I blame 'em, I did have a hand in the destruction of their home."
"Put two and two together?" You think you know what he means, but it's better to confirm now than regret making a knee-jerk reaction later.
"You come back with an MBF that was spotted on the enemy side and now there's suddenly a new face aboard? It's not that hard to figure out." He replies dryly, taking a bite from his meal.
"Just being thorough." You respond, sitting down across from him. "Anything else happen?" You nod towards the bruised guy. "Like how he got that bruise?"
Smitty nods, swallowing the mouthful. "I ignored them when they started doing stuff, which pissed them off. They came over and started trying to push me around. One took a swing at me, I ducked, and the guards," he flicks a finger at Anders and Gary, a thankful look in his eyes, "came in and broke it up, giving the guy a nasty smack in the process."
You nod, mentally noting it down. "Anything else happen?"
He shakes his head, "No."
And with that, you thank him for his time and hoist yourself to your feet. You approach the crew members, all seven of them, and stop a foot or two away. They eye you with slight suspicion.
"Can you tell me what happened here?" You nod towards Smitty, some of them giving him rather hateful glances.
"Yeah." The bruised man, a big, burly blue collar man, pipes up. He doesn't look very pleased to see you. "Yeah I'll tell you what happened. You," he points a meaty finger at you, "brought a fucking pirate on board, you know, the people we hired you to protect us from!?" There's general murmurs of assent when he says that.
Well, shit. What do you do or say in response?
-[ ] "I did what I had to do to protect you. Another pilot with a combat capable machine and combat experience will be a godsend when those pirates inevitably come back."
-[ ] "Who I recruit into my company is of no business to you."
-[ ] Write in
~~~~~~~
"We'll get them back for this, I promise." You swear to the pilot sitting next to you as she sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "We'll track each and every last one down and cut them down."
Margarat's quiet, for the most part, though you think you struck a chord in her, if the cruel glint in her eye is anything to go by. A silence falls between you, as Margarat slowly pulls herself together.
Eventually, after who knows how long later, she opens her mouth. "Yeah, yeah I think that that's a good idea." The expression on her face is a dark one, but one that seems fitting for the topic matter at hand.
You stand up first, hauling yourself to your feet and extending a hand down to help up Margarat. She takes it and you pull her up. "Are you feeling better?"
The pilot gives a sort of half-nod. "I will be, once we put those fucking bastards in the ground and Kamilla's awake again."
You pat her on the shoulder. "There yah go."
~~~~~~~
You stare hard at the sound wave visualizer, thinking over Miss Harnought's offer and coming to a conclusion you really don't like.
With a subvocal sigh, you grit your teeth and steel your spine. Whether you like it or not, those pirates will be back, likely sooner rather than later. And when they get here, you'd much rather have a Corporate Kill Team watching your back than nothing at all, even if you have to pay a steep price to get it.
But hey, you slipped away from her grasp once, surely you can do it again.
"Sure, that works for me." You hear what sounds like high-pitched squeals coming from the other end of the call as you send your location over to her. You feel as if you might have made something of a mistake, but it's not like you can do anything about it now. "Just, you know this doesn't mean I'll marry you or anything, right?"
"Of course, sugah. Aah undahstand." Miss Harnought drawls out over the communicator. You get the feeling she doesn't really understand, but what can you do? "But what kinda team do yah want, Aah've got a whole load o' different units." You receive a document listing a number of different teams.
You think about it, looking the sheet over, before opening your mouth to answer. "Can you send…"
-[ ] "...a Light Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs. 1 Favor owed to Haagricorp)
-[ ] "...a Heavy Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs and 1 Fightercraft Holder with 2 MBFs and 1 Fightercraft. 2 Favors owed to Haagricorp)
-[ ] "...a Light Raider Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyers with 8 MBFs and Cruiser-Carrier with 4 MBFs and a Fightercraft. 4 Favors owed to Haagricorp)
-[ ] "...a Defender Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyers with 8 MBFs, a Cruiser with 8 MBFs, and a Battlecruiser with 16 MBFs and 2 Fightercraft. 7 Favors owed to Haagricorp)
"Sure thang, sugah!" She happily responds as you hear the click-clack of something on the other end of the communicator. You'd thought about asking for a Combat Unit, but that might be pushing your luck a bit too much. "They'll be there in at least a day."
After getting confirmation, you quickly hang up on her. You'd rather not have to listen to her ramble on and on about… well, the things she likes to talk to you about.
Releasing the iron-handed hold you had on your body, you feel unrestrained and unrestricted shudders and shakes dance up and down your spine. Cringing from the feeling, you slump off to go take a shower.
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: Alrighty, voting will be called tomorrow at 4 PM CST.
Also, I started another Quest, so if you want to participate in that you can!
In Service: A Science Fantasy Special Agent Quest
Q: What are Favors?
A: Essentially, a thing you can spend to get things from people without having to give them money or do things for them. Having people owe favors to you is a very good thing, but owing favors to other people is very bad. The more favors you owe somebody, the more they can ask of you for free. Mercenaries live and die on their reputation and doing people favors is a good way to raise that, however, refusing to do things when people call in favors will result in a hefty reputation loss.
He looks a lot like you imagined him, young, with what appears to be stubble growing on his face. Glasses and a head of pale hair complete the picture of a lanky young adult. Pieces of food, nutrient paste mostly, grey and gravy-like, with chunky cubes to give it some texture. Looks like the crew didn't want to waste the good stuff on him.
"What happened here?" You ask no one in particular, asking it to the group as a whole.
"I walked in; they didn't recognize me and put two and two together." Smitty shrugs after a moment of internal translation, picking at the tray of food sitting on the table. "Not that I blame 'em, I did have a hand in the destruction of their home."
"Put two and two together?" You think you know what he means, but it's better to confirm now than regret making a knee-jerk reaction later.
"You come back with an MBF that was spotted on the enemy side and now there's suddenly a new face aboard? It's not that hard to figure out." He replies dryly, taking a bite from his meal.
"Just being thorough." You respond, sitting down across from him. "Anything else happen?" You nod towards the bruised guy. "Like how he got that bruise?"
Smitty nods, swallowing the mouthful. "I ignored them when they started doing stuff, which pissed them off. They came over and started trying to push me around. One took a swing at me, I ducked, and the guards," he flicks a finger at Anders and Gary, a thankful look in his eyes, "came in and broke it up, giving the guy a nasty smack in the process."
You nod, mentally noting it down. "Anything else happen?"
He shakes his head, "No."
And with that, you thank him for his time and hoist yourself to your feet. You approach the crew members, all seven of them, and stop a foot or two away. They eye you with slight suspicion.
"Can you tell me what happened here?" You nod towards Smitty, some of them giving him rather hateful glances.
"Yeah." The bruised man, a big, burly blue collar man, pipes up. He doesn't look very pleased to see you. "Yeah I'll tell you what happened. You," he points a meaty finger at you, "brought a fucking pirate on board, you know, the people we hired you to protect us from!?" There's general murmurs of assent when he says that.
Well, shit. What do you do or say in response?
-[ ] "I did what I had to do to protect you. Another pilot with a combat capable machine and combat experience will be a godsend when those pirates inevitably come back."
-[ ] "Who I recruit into my company is of no business to you."
-[ ] Write in
~~~~~~~
"We'll get them back for this, I promise." You swear to the pilot sitting next to you as she sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "We'll track each and every last one down and cut them down."
Margarat's quiet, for the most part, though you think you struck a chord in her, if the cruel glint in her eye is anything to go by. A silence falls between you, as Margarat slowly pulls herself together.
Eventually, after who knows how long later, she opens her mouth. "Yeah, yeah I think that that's a good idea." The expression on her face is a dark one, but one that seems fitting for the topic matter at hand.
You stand up first, hauling yourself to your feet and extending a hand down to help up Margarat. She takes it and you pull her up. "Are you feeling better?"
The pilot gives a sort of half-nod. "I will be, once we put those fucking bastards in the ground and Kamilla's awake again."
You pat her on the shoulder. "There yah go."
~~~~~~~
You stare hard at the sound wave visualizer, thinking over Miss Harnought's offer and coming to a conclusion you really don't like.
With a subvocal sigh, you grit your teeth and steel your spine. Whether you like it or not, those pirates will be back, likely sooner rather than later. And when they get here, you'd much rather have a Corporate Kill Team watching your back than nothing at all, even if you have to pay a steep price to get it.
But hey, you slipped away from her grasp once, surely you can do it again.
"Sure, that works for me." You hear what sounds like high-pitched squeals coming from the other end of the call as you send your location over to her. You feel as if you might have made something of a mistake, but it's not like you can do anything about it now. "Just, you know this doesn't mean I'll marry you or anything, right?"
"Of course, sugah. Aah undahstand." Miss Harnought drawls out over the communicator. You get the feeling she doesn't really understand, but what can you do? "But what kinda team do yah want, Aah've got a whole load o' different units." You receive a document listing a number of different teams.
You think about it, looking the sheet over, before opening your mouth to answer. "Can you send…"
-[ ] "...a Light Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs. 1 Favor owed to Haagricorp)
-[ ] "...a Heavy Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs and 1 Fightercraft Holder with 2 MBFs and 1 Fightercraft. 2 Favors owed to Haagricorp)
-[ ] "...a Light Raider Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyers with 8 MBFs and Cruiser-Carrier with 4 MBFs and a Fightercraft. 4 Favors owed to Haagricorp)
-[ ] "...a Defender Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyers with 8 MBFs, a Cruiser with 8 MBFs, and a Battlecruiser with 16 MBFs and 2 Fightercraft. 7 Favors owed to Haagricorp)
"Sure thang, sugah!" She happily responds as you hear the click-clack of something on the other end of the communicator. You'd thought about asking for a Combat Unit, but that might be pushing your luck a bit too much. "They'll be there in at least a day."
After getting confirmation, you quickly hang up on her. You'd rather not have to listen to her ramble on and on about… well, the things she likes to talk to you about.
Releasing the iron-handed hold you had on your body, you feel unrestrained and unrestricted shudders and shakes dance up and down your spine. Cringing from the feeling, you slump off to go take a shower.
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: Alrighty, voting will be called tomorrow at 4 PM CST.
Also, I started another Quest, so if you want to participate in that you can!
In Service: A Science Fantasy Special Agent Quest
Q: What are Favors?
A: Essentially, a thing you can spend to get things from people without having to give them money or do things for them. Having people owe favors to you is a very good thing, but owing favors to other people is very bad. The more favors you owe somebody, the more they can ask of you for free. Mercenaries live and die on their reputation and doing people favors is a good way to raise that, however, refusing to do things when people call in favors will result in a hefty reputation loss.
Last edited:
- Location
- Tristania
[X] "I did what I had to do to protect you. Another pilot with a combat capable machine and combat experience will be a godsend when those pirates inevitably come back."
[X] "...a Heavy Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs and 1 Fightercraft Holder with 2 MBFs and 1 Fightercraft. 2 Favors owed to Haagricorp)
......can we change the Company Name? It honestly sounds bland to me. No offense.
[X] "...a Heavy Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs and 1 Fightercraft Holder with 2 MBFs and 1 Fightercraft. 2 Favors owed to Haagricorp)
......can we change the Company Name? It honestly sounds bland to me. No offense.
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Yeah sure, I'll put a vote in at the end of the next update towards those ends. I didn't come up with the name
- Location
- Tristania
It's fine. I missed the vote for the Company Name so I'm just complaining.
- Pronouns
- He
[X] "He caught us at the pirate ship. Could kill us and have a good chance to finish the rest of the crew, but instead, let us live. He was left to die like us. People tend to rethink things when stranded in space. He wants to even some scores and I intend to give him a chance to make amends. Don't worry if he tries something stupid I will take care of him."
[X] "...a Light Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs. 1 Favor owed to Haagricorp)
[X] "...a Light Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs. 1 Favor owed to Haagricorp)
Vote closed
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Alrighty, I completed half of my finals today and the other half will be completed tomorrow, so expect the next update to be a bit delayed, apologies. Thank you everyone who voted! There were some ties, so RNGesus was deployed.
Our winners:
[X] "He caught us at the pirate ship. Could kill us and have a good chance to finish the rest of the crew, but instead, let us live. He was left to die like us. People tend to rethink things when stranded in space. He wants to even some scores and I intend to give him a chance to make amends. Don't worry if he tries something stupid I will take care of him." with 3 votes decided via the grace of RNGesus
[X] "...a Light Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs. 1 Favor owed to Haagricorp) with 3 votes and also decided via the grace of RNGesus
Our winners:
[X] "He caught us at the pirate ship. Could kill us and have a good chance to finish the rest of the crew, but instead, let us live. He was left to die like us. People tend to rethink things when stranded in space. He wants to even some scores and I intend to give him a chance to make amends. Don't worry if he tries something stupid I will take care of him." with 3 votes decided via the grace of RNGesus
[X] "...a Light Escort Unit?" (Sends 2 Destroyer Escorts with 6 MBFs. 1 Favor owed to Haagricorp) with 3 votes and also decided via the grace of RNGesus
- Location
- Tristania
Here's hoping the Pirates are weak.
Persuading the Crew
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
"He caught us at the pirate ship." You begin, voice low as you lean on the table. "Coulda killed us and've had a decent shake at finishing the rest of you off," you pierce him with a stare as you point at Smitty, eating at his table, "but instead, he let us live."
You rise from the table, the crew staring up at you with eyes wide. "He was left to die, just like us." You sweep your gaze across the captivated faces, a shallow laugh slipping through your lips. "People tend to rethink things, when stranded in space. He wants to even the scores and I intend to give him that chance."
"Don't worry." You cast one last look at Smitty. You don't really think he'll turn on you, but they don't know that. A dark tone enters your voice as it's lowered even further. "If he tries something, anything, stupid, I'll take care of him."
(Charm Roll DC 60, 90: 93+10(They Respect You)+10(A Good Speech)=113, double success and +1 XP to Charm)
The ringleader speaks up first, breaking the silence that had formed. "W-we'll hold you to that, Marshal." His voice is a tad bit shaky as he looks towards Smitty, expression full of new understanding.
Marshal, huh? You give a soft grin. That's not a bad callsign, that's not a bad callsign at all.
You step away from the tables and grab a tray, taking a seat across from Smitty. He looks up as you sit down, an unasked question clear on his face.
"Yeah," you nod, scooping up a spoonful of food, "I reckon I smoothed things over. Just, you know, probably shouldn't make jokes or whatever about it."
He laughs, "Thanks, boss. Having to watch my back all the time would suck. Now I just need to watch it the normal amount."
You nod as you come around to why you came here in the first place, well, besides needing to eat, that is. You need information on what you're going to be up against in the near future and you've got a source right in front of you.
"Smitty," you start, not wasting time, "what sorta enemies are we looking at here? Numbers, commanders, machines, things like that."
He leans back as the sec crew finish their own meals, running his tongue over a tooth. "Well, there's only the one gang of pirates in this little region of space. It's not an especially large group, but that's more cause not too many ships pass by here than to any lack of skill on my former boss' part. I don't know if this is his real name," Smitty leans in conspiratorially, "but we all called him 'Captain Buckshaw', that ring any bells?"
(Knowledge (Crime) Roll DC 50: 48+10=58, success)
You nod. "Yeah, I'm familiar with the name. He was a former, uh…" You trail off, racking your memories before snapping your fingers. "Pilot in the SUN, right? Took his squadron and went AWOL? Last I heard, he was up near Saturn." He's got a decent bounty out on his head, too, 50k SUDs, if you recall correctly. Seems about right for a deserter's bounty.
"Well, you heard wrong, 'cause he's down here." Smitty snarks at you while rolling his eyes. The effect of this is lessened by a crack in his voice and the reddening of his cheeks. De's balls, he is young. He coughs into his hand and gets back on track. "But Buckshaw seems to be a decent pilot and commander, as far as these things go, certainly better than I am."
"What about numbers, machines, ships?" You press him.
"I think he's got a… couple more freighters, at least. And the Destroyer he stole from the Sunners." He shrugs his shoulders. "I've got no real idea on his MBFs, though I know he still has most of the Sunner machines he deserted with, full military grade MBFs at that. Pilots are still with him, too, last I heard."
"Damn and blast." You swear at your misfortune. Going up against pirates is one thing, but going up against trained soldiers in military grade machines? Well, that's another thing entirely. An idea pops into the back of your head, a wicked, oily thing, one that sets your hair on edge.
You do know somebody who has access to military grade and better… though you're loath to call her. …but it seems that you have very little choice in the matter.
Great.
With the idea in your head, you head towards the bridge to see if the comms are functional.
(+1 Leadership XP for successfully integrating Smitty. +1 progress to earning Trait: Marshal in Training (0/2))
~~~~~~~
End of Day Report
-Crew Roll: 89
The Klaw and Drillbit operators took some initiative and salvaged the pirate MBFs floating nearby. Most of it was worthless junk, but they managed to scavenge together 5 points of armor from the wrecks.
-Corsair Repairs Complete (1 Armor used)
-2 1/2 Days left till the Sniper is complete
-1/2 Day until the Lancer is repaired
-Thunder is unrepairable right now, not enough spare armor
-<1 Day left till the ship is, mostly, flyable
-~1 Day till Haagricorp Escorts arrive
What do you do tomorrow? (You may pick up to 3)
-[ ] Modify MBFs
--[ ] Which MBF/s
---[ ] Which part/s
-[ ] Check on the ship's repair process and ask Janna about that wafer-thing you found
-[ ] Check on Captain Kamilla and Charles
-[ ] You're gonna need somebody to pilot that Sniper, once it's done. Hold try-outs amongst the crew to see if they have any skill or talent.
-[ ] Get some time in the sims
--[ ] Train with someone else? Write in (You may choose as many as you want from your pilots)
--[ ] Train by yourself
-[ ] Study active pilots, just in case you encounter them in the future
--[ ] Focus on someone?
---[ ] Buckshaw
---[ ] Write in
--[ ] Just general studying
-[ ] Research the great officers of history, see how they lead their men to victory (Chance to earn progress for Trait: Marshal in Training)
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: Finals are done and I've got a couple weeks off, so lets get some questing done, shall we? Votes will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST and thank you all!
Also, as a heads up, I changed some things with the ship's stats and how cargo will work. You now have Storage Points (SP) which tell you how much you can store in a cargo bay
You rise from the table, the crew staring up at you with eyes wide. "He was left to die, just like us." You sweep your gaze across the captivated faces, a shallow laugh slipping through your lips. "People tend to rethink things, when stranded in space. He wants to even the scores and I intend to give him that chance."
"Don't worry." You cast one last look at Smitty. You don't really think he'll turn on you, but they don't know that. A dark tone enters your voice as it's lowered even further. "If he tries something, anything, stupid, I'll take care of him."
(Charm Roll DC 60, 90: 93+10(They Respect You)+10(A Good Speech)=113, double success and +1 XP to Charm)
The ringleader speaks up first, breaking the silence that had formed. "W-we'll hold you to that, Marshal." His voice is a tad bit shaky as he looks towards Smitty, expression full of new understanding.
Marshal, huh? You give a soft grin. That's not a bad callsign, that's not a bad callsign at all.
You step away from the tables and grab a tray, taking a seat across from Smitty. He looks up as you sit down, an unasked question clear on his face.
"Yeah," you nod, scooping up a spoonful of food, "I reckon I smoothed things over. Just, you know, probably shouldn't make jokes or whatever about it."
He laughs, "Thanks, boss. Having to watch my back all the time would suck. Now I just need to watch it the normal amount."
You nod as you come around to why you came here in the first place, well, besides needing to eat, that is. You need information on what you're going to be up against in the near future and you've got a source right in front of you.
"Smitty," you start, not wasting time, "what sorta enemies are we looking at here? Numbers, commanders, machines, things like that."
He leans back as the sec crew finish their own meals, running his tongue over a tooth. "Well, there's only the one gang of pirates in this little region of space. It's not an especially large group, but that's more cause not too many ships pass by here than to any lack of skill on my former boss' part. I don't know if this is his real name," Smitty leans in conspiratorially, "but we all called him 'Captain Buckshaw', that ring any bells?"
(Knowledge (Crime) Roll DC 50: 48+10=58, success)
You nod. "Yeah, I'm familiar with the name. He was a former, uh…" You trail off, racking your memories before snapping your fingers. "Pilot in the SUN, right? Took his squadron and went AWOL? Last I heard, he was up near Saturn." He's got a decent bounty out on his head, too, 50k SUDs, if you recall correctly. Seems about right for a deserter's bounty.
"Well, you heard wrong, 'cause he's down here." Smitty snarks at you while rolling his eyes. The effect of this is lessened by a crack in his voice and the reddening of his cheeks. De's balls, he is young. He coughs into his hand and gets back on track. "But Buckshaw seems to be a decent pilot and commander, as far as these things go, certainly better than I am."
"What about numbers, machines, ships?" You press him.
"I think he's got a… couple more freighters, at least. And the Destroyer he stole from the Sunners." He shrugs his shoulders. "I've got no real idea on his MBFs, though I know he still has most of the Sunner machines he deserted with, full military grade MBFs at that. Pilots are still with him, too, last I heard."
"Damn and blast." You swear at your misfortune. Going up against pirates is one thing, but going up against trained soldiers in military grade machines? Well, that's another thing entirely. An idea pops into the back of your head, a wicked, oily thing, one that sets your hair on edge.
You do know somebody who has access to military grade and better… though you're loath to call her. …but it seems that you have very little choice in the matter.
Great.
With the idea in your head, you head towards the bridge to see if the comms are functional.
(+1 Leadership XP for successfully integrating Smitty. +1 progress to earning Trait: Marshal in Training (0/2))
~~~~~~~
End of Day Report
-Crew Roll: 89
The Klaw and Drillbit operators took some initiative and salvaged the pirate MBFs floating nearby. Most of it was worthless junk, but they managed to scavenge together 5 points of armor from the wrecks.
-Corsair Repairs Complete (1 Armor used)
-2 1/2 Days left till the Sniper is complete
-1/2 Day until the Lancer is repaired
-Thunder is unrepairable right now, not enough spare armor
-<1 Day left till the ship is, mostly, flyable
-~1 Day till Haagricorp Escorts arrive
What do you do tomorrow? (You may pick up to 3)
-[ ] Modify MBFs
--[ ] Which MBF/s
---[ ] Which part/s
-[ ] Check on the ship's repair process and ask Janna about that wafer-thing you found
-[ ] Check on Captain Kamilla and Charles
-[ ] You're gonna need somebody to pilot that Sniper, once it's done. Hold try-outs amongst the crew to see if they have any skill or talent.
-[ ] Get some time in the sims
--[ ] Train with someone else? Write in (You may choose as many as you want from your pilots)
--[ ] Train by yourself
-[ ] Study active pilots, just in case you encounter them in the future
--[ ] Focus on someone?
---[ ] Buckshaw
---[ ] Write in
--[ ] Just general studying
-[ ] Research the great officers of history, see how they lead their men to victory (Chance to earn progress for Trait: Marshal in Training)
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: Finals are done and I've got a couple weeks off, so lets get some questing done, shall we? Votes will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST and thank you all!
Also, as a heads up, I changed some things with the ship's stats and how cargo will work. You now have Storage Points (SP) which tell you how much you can store in a cargo bay
- Pronouns
- He
[X] Check on the ship's repair process and ask Janna about that wafer-thing you found
[X] Check on Captain Kamilla and Charles
[X] You're gonna need somebody to pilot that Sniper, once it's done. Hold try-outs amongst the crew to see if they have any skill or talent.
[X] Check on Captain Kamilla and Charles
[X] You're gonna need somebody to pilot that Sniper, once it's done. Hold try-outs amongst the crew to see if they have any skill or talent.
Vote closed
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Alrighty, voting is closed, thank you.
Our winners:
[X] Check on the ship's repair process and ask Janna about that wafer-thing you found with 5 votes
[X] Check on Captain Kamilla and Charles with 5 votes
[X] Get some time in the sims with 4 votes
-[X] Train by yourself
Our winners:
[X] Check on the ship's repair process and ask Janna about that wafer-thing you found with 5 votes
[X] Check on Captain Kamilla and Charles with 5 votes
[X] Get some time in the sims with 4 votes
-[X] Train by yourself
Janna Peppers: Rolling with the Best of Them, A More Somber Note, and Some Time in the Simulators
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
As you step down the stairs leading into the launch bays, you spot Janna standing next to a spilled crate of delicate looking parts. She's got an angry expression on her face as she's berating a technician, throwing her hands up at the sheepish looking tech operating a lifter.
Your eyes drift across the scene as you approach, the living hum of machinery interspersed with bursts of welding sparks filling your ears. It's quite hot in here, a side-effect of all the machines and welding torches, so most of the techs here have stripped themselves to their underclothes. The unzipped portions of their orange jumpsuits are tied around their waists, to prevent them from dangling free and potentially getting in the way of something or catching on fire. Much like the technicians climbing all over the Lancer, you find yourself starting to sweat through your clothes.
The technicians, those few that are assigned to the MBF bays, are currently in the midst of sticking the Lancer's leg back on. They managed to rebuild the mulched section of the leg, the area around where the thigh and hip would connect, which Margarat had blown off in the fight a couple days back. A lifter, one of the two you currently own, sets a pallet of armor panels down next to the leg as it's being suspended from a ceiling crane. Techs clamber over the fixed hip socket, rewiring and plugging delicate parts back in.
"-'ve only got so many of tha damn things, you can't be goin' round and dropping 'em!" You catch the tail end of Janna's tirade as she scoffs and turns away, which happens to bring her towards you. Her brows unfurrow slightly as she spots you and folds her arms. "What brings you down 'ere, boss? Wanted to check up on tha progress?"
You nod and reach into your jacket pocket. "That, and I wanted to ask you about," you pull out the wafer-like device and hand it to her, "this."
(Janna Peppers Knowledge (Technology) Roll DC 35,75: 49+5(Knowledge (General Science)=54, success)
Your Chief Engineer frowns as she examines the object, flipping it around in her hands. Eventually, she looks back to you, a curious expression on her face. "Well, I can tell you that it's some kind of a covert surveillance device." The greenette scratches the back of her head. "...But I'm not at all familiar with this make or model, nor who it might've come from." As she sees the expression on your face, she hurriedly continues on. "I-it's not transmittin', I think."
You stare at the bug as you take it back, brows furrowed. "Why would a pirate ship of all things have a bug on it? They're not exactly things that an intelligence organization would bother going through all the effort to bug."
(Deduction Roll DC 35: 11, failure
Janna Peppers Deduction Roll DC 40: 86, success and +1 XP in Deduction for Janna)
You open your mouth to voice your lack of ideas when Janna preempts you, eyes sparkling with an idea and a wide grin on her face. "Because the bug must 'ave been on it before it was a pirate ship! The only question is… why was it there? What was that freighter carrying that warranted planting a bug?" She turns her gaze to the bug, pointing a gloved finger at it. "Can I have that for a bit? I wanna see if I can get anything from it."
Should you give it to her? It seems to have taken her mind off the current situation, but that might not be an entirely good thing.
-[ ] Yes (Starts Quest: Bugged by a Bug)
-[ ] No, not right now (Decline Quest: Bugged by a Bug for now)
"You mentioned the progress of the, well, the everything?" You wave your hand at the general ship around you in an attempt to get to the other reason you were down here.
Janna blinks at you owlishly. "Oh! I almost forgot!" She cries out, smacking herself on the forehead. Recovering, she collects herself and gives you the rundown.
(Engines Repairs: 40+10(Number of engineers assigned)+20(Janna's Repair Bonus)=70)
"Ship's repairs are goin' quicker than I 'ad thought they were gonna be, engines should be done by oh… start o' tomorrow by my guess, if everythin' goes well."
(MBF Repairs: 33+5(Number of engineers assigned)+20(Janna's Repair Bonus)=58)
She grimaces as she comes to the MBF repairs. "The MBFs… well, I wish I could say that the repairs were progressin' as quickly as the ship's. But somebody," she shoots a meaningful glare at the chastised technician, who flinches on instinct, "keeps dropping things!" She sighs. "We'll 'ave the Lancer down in a couple 'ours, if everything goes according to plan. The Sniper? Well, we'll 'ave it done in a day or so and that's all I'll say on tha matter." Janna mutters something about 'spaghetti wiring', whatever that means.
(Janna's Action: 99+20(Janna's Repair Bonus)=119, success and +1 XP for Janna's Repair. Jesus Christ, Janna)
Janna stops you as you start saying your goodbyes. "Wait! I wasn't finished yet, yah doof!" She laughs. "I've still got one more thing to tell you about." The greenette raises a finger, pointing it at the ceiling. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but I managed to fix the ship's PD guns. All twelve of 'em." She says with a smirking grin.
Your eyebrows raise… that's, well, that's really, really good news. Your eyebrows only shoot higher with her next words.
"I also found where they kept their ammo." She winks at you, her smirk widening to a broad smile. "Those pirates'll be in for a rude fuckin' surprise when they show their rat-fucked faces round 'ere again!"
(Resolve Roll DC 60: 38+10=48, failure
Janna's Resolve Roll DC 70: 13, failure)
"And you know what the best part is?" She asks you as you're struggling to contain yourself. Shakily, you ask her what it is. "It's that the turrets a-" She very nearly tumbles off her feet, unable to get it out. With her last gasp of will power, she forces the words through her lips.
"The turrets are automated!" And with that, she collapses in a fit of hacking laughter.
It's at this moment, when you've been barely keeping it in as Janna dies of laughter, that you finally break. Hearing other people laugh always sets you off too and now is no different. Tears of joy splash against the metal flooring as you pound a fist against it, barely able to draw in air from how hard you're laughing. You're gonna be sore later, but right now? You could hardly care.
(All 12 PD turrets on the ship are now active, pity the foolish pilot who steps too close, for they know not what they have walked into. Janna gains +1 Opinion from you joining in laughter with her.)
Quest: Bugged by a Bug
That bug you found on the pirate freighter has Janna proverbially drooling at the mouth. Give the device to her so she can learn what's inside. It'll take some time for you to hear back from her on it, but you're sure that it'll be good.
Rewards: Janna gains +3 Opinion and you learn of the people behind the bug.
~~~~~~~
Your day takes a more somber note as you step into the medical ward. Only one of the David's Horn's medical crew made it out, a pink-haired medic by the name of Russel Winters. Winters glances at you as you enter, but returns to his paperwork as he recognizes you. You don't pay him much mind as you step past, your gaze set on the only patient in the medbay.
Captain Kamilla Alamo, the former captain of the David's Horn, lays in a bed, white, with blue sheets. An IV drip feeds into her arm, pumping her full of the nutrients her body requires to live.
She looks peaceful, like she's sleeping, like she's content with the world. You can't help but wonder if she's dreaming while in her coma. Hopefully, if she is dreaming, it's of a better place than right here, right now.
The effect is ruined by the thick mass of bandages and sealant covering her head, leaving her face revealed. A piece of glass from an exploding monitor had lodged itself in the former Captain's head, piercing part of the brain. You don't have the supplies or tools or necessary skill to remove the shard right now, the Itari took the first two when they left and the pirates made sure of the third's absence.
So, as much as she might have protested had she been lucid, she was put into a medical coma. The crew weren't happy with the decision, but they understood the necessity of it.
Charles isn't in here right now, he visits occasionally but he's too busy right now with taking care of the rest of the crew.
With a long and final look at Captain Kamilla, you depart. Your heart is filled with determination, a drive to make sure she wakes back up.
(Until you arrive at a station equipped to handle medical cases like Kamilla's, temporarily gain +15 to Resolve rolls)
~~~~~~~
You're dancing around simulated space containing a version of the ship and surrounding asteroids, trading blows with a simulated SUN squadron.
Most Sunner squadrons contain a couple Spearmen, a heavy combat model, and a high performance machine for the squadron leader to pilot. Here, you're up against two Spearmen, a Hoplite, and, for an absolute worst case scenario, a fucking Warmaster.
…You had to remove the Warmaster, replacing it with a Legate, the Warmaster was killing you far too quickly for you to properly engage it.
But even then, nine times out of ten, you were brought down by the squadron. And that tenth was more due to luck than anything actually reproducible, as the sim had glitched and deleted the Hoplite.
But… you are improving, if minutely. Each time the Legate drove its Heat Sword through your power cell, you inched ever closer to taking it with you. Each time you were blown up by the Hoplite's shoulder cannons, you crept ever closer to killing its pilot first. And each time you were boxed in by the Spearmen, you crawled ever closer to destroying both before they got you.
You were about to start it up again when the simpod suddenly shut down, dropping you out of the simulation to greet a blaring, red screen in your face. The screen shows you an alert, a red alert, and is requesting your presence on the bridge immediately.
"De's fucking knobbly knees." You swear, hopping out from the pod and hurrying towards the bridge. "Well, I guess those new PD turrets of ours'll have themselves a field day." You grin to yourself.
(Gain a +5 Combat bonus in your next fight if it contains a Hoplite, Legate, or Spearman)
~~~~~~~
Charles approaches you as soon as you step foot on the bridge, a serious expression on his aged face. He looks as if he's aged a decade in the past few days, deep wrinkles on his face and heavy bags cling to his eyes. In short, he doesn't look good.
"Sensors detected an approaching craft a few minutes ago." He says, briefing you on the situation as the bridge bustles around you, inexperienced crew members trying to fill roles they have little to no training in.
You shoot him a look. "It's not the Haagricorp guys, is it?" You already know the answer.
"No, there's only one and it doesn't match the IFF codes we were given." He shakes his head sadly.
"Dammit." You ball your hands into a fist as you swear.
"Quite." Charles nods, his face sagging. "It began broadcasting a message on an open channel as soon as we scanned it." He plays it and a scarred, eye-patch wearing man appears on the small screen he hands you.
<My name is Curtis Grash!> The pirate bellows, jowls quaking. You feel a hint of relief that it's not Buckshaw, your experiences in the sim still fresh. <And I demand your surrender immediately! If you do so, you will not be harmed and will be dropped off at the nearest station!>
The feed cuts out and Charles turns to you. "He's been broadcasting it on repeat ever since."
"What should we do?" He asks, a tired look in his eye.
-[ ] "Open communications, lets see what this jackass has to say."
-[ ] "Take command here, Charles, I'll be getting my Corsair ready should you need me."
-[ ] Write in
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: Janna, holy shit girl, what are your rolls today??? Voting will be called tomorrow at 6 PM CST, to give you some extra time to vote as I'm getting this out a little late.
If you've ever wondered what the launch bays look like, the mech bay from MW5 is pretty much what it looks like, just with more scaffolding and no big star thing. The launch bays in the cruiser are expanded, of course, with two more bays on the end.
Here's a screenshot:
It also has the handy addition of giving you a sense of scale, as that's more or less what a human looks like next to an MBF, if the MBF were a lot bigger.
edit: Nearly forgot to mention, but the Lancer had finished its repairs by the time the red alert sounded
Your eyes drift across the scene as you approach, the living hum of machinery interspersed with bursts of welding sparks filling your ears. It's quite hot in here, a side-effect of all the machines and welding torches, so most of the techs here have stripped themselves to their underclothes. The unzipped portions of their orange jumpsuits are tied around their waists, to prevent them from dangling free and potentially getting in the way of something or catching on fire. Much like the technicians climbing all over the Lancer, you find yourself starting to sweat through your clothes.
The technicians, those few that are assigned to the MBF bays, are currently in the midst of sticking the Lancer's leg back on. They managed to rebuild the mulched section of the leg, the area around where the thigh and hip would connect, which Margarat had blown off in the fight a couple days back. A lifter, one of the two you currently own, sets a pallet of armor panels down next to the leg as it's being suspended from a ceiling crane. Techs clamber over the fixed hip socket, rewiring and plugging delicate parts back in.
"-'ve only got so many of tha damn things, you can't be goin' round and dropping 'em!" You catch the tail end of Janna's tirade as she scoffs and turns away, which happens to bring her towards you. Her brows unfurrow slightly as she spots you and folds her arms. "What brings you down 'ere, boss? Wanted to check up on tha progress?"
You nod and reach into your jacket pocket. "That, and I wanted to ask you about," you pull out the wafer-like device and hand it to her, "this."
(Janna Peppers Knowledge (Technology) Roll DC 35,75: 49+5(Knowledge (General Science)=54, success)
Your Chief Engineer frowns as she examines the object, flipping it around in her hands. Eventually, she looks back to you, a curious expression on her face. "Well, I can tell you that it's some kind of a covert surveillance device." The greenette scratches the back of her head. "...But I'm not at all familiar with this make or model, nor who it might've come from." As she sees the expression on your face, she hurriedly continues on. "I-it's not transmittin', I think."
You stare at the bug as you take it back, brows furrowed. "Why would a pirate ship of all things have a bug on it? They're not exactly things that an intelligence organization would bother going through all the effort to bug."
(Deduction Roll DC 35: 11, failure
Janna Peppers Deduction Roll DC 40: 86, success and +1 XP in Deduction for Janna)
You open your mouth to voice your lack of ideas when Janna preempts you, eyes sparkling with an idea and a wide grin on her face. "Because the bug must 'ave been on it before it was a pirate ship! The only question is… why was it there? What was that freighter carrying that warranted planting a bug?" She turns her gaze to the bug, pointing a gloved finger at it. "Can I have that for a bit? I wanna see if I can get anything from it."
Should you give it to her? It seems to have taken her mind off the current situation, but that might not be an entirely good thing.
-[ ] Yes (Starts Quest: Bugged by a Bug)
-[ ] No, not right now (Decline Quest: Bugged by a Bug for now)
"You mentioned the progress of the, well, the everything?" You wave your hand at the general ship around you in an attempt to get to the other reason you were down here.
Janna blinks at you owlishly. "Oh! I almost forgot!" She cries out, smacking herself on the forehead. Recovering, she collects herself and gives you the rundown.
(Engines Repairs: 40+10(Number of engineers assigned)+20(Janna's Repair Bonus)=70)
"Ship's repairs are goin' quicker than I 'ad thought they were gonna be, engines should be done by oh… start o' tomorrow by my guess, if everythin' goes well."
(MBF Repairs: 33+5(Number of engineers assigned)+20(Janna's Repair Bonus)=58)
She grimaces as she comes to the MBF repairs. "The MBFs… well, I wish I could say that the repairs were progressin' as quickly as the ship's. But somebody," she shoots a meaningful glare at the chastised technician, who flinches on instinct, "keeps dropping things!" She sighs. "We'll 'ave the Lancer down in a couple 'ours, if everything goes according to plan. The Sniper? Well, we'll 'ave it done in a day or so and that's all I'll say on tha matter." Janna mutters something about 'spaghetti wiring', whatever that means.
(Janna's Action: 99+20(Janna's Repair Bonus)=119, success and +1 XP for Janna's Repair. Jesus Christ, Janna)
Janna stops you as you start saying your goodbyes. "Wait! I wasn't finished yet, yah doof!" She laughs. "I've still got one more thing to tell you about." The greenette raises a finger, pointing it at the ceiling. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but I managed to fix the ship's PD guns. All twelve of 'em." She says with a smirking grin.
Your eyebrows raise… that's, well, that's really, really good news. Your eyebrows only shoot higher with her next words.
"I also found where they kept their ammo." She winks at you, her smirk widening to a broad smile. "Those pirates'll be in for a rude fuckin' surprise when they show their rat-fucked faces round 'ere again!"
(Resolve Roll DC 60: 38+10=48, failure
Janna's Resolve Roll DC 70: 13, failure)
"And you know what the best part is?" She asks you as you're struggling to contain yourself. Shakily, you ask her what it is. "It's that the turrets a-" She very nearly tumbles off her feet, unable to get it out. With her last gasp of will power, she forces the words through her lips.
"The turrets are automated!" And with that, she collapses in a fit of hacking laughter.
It's at this moment, when you've been barely keeping it in as Janna dies of laughter, that you finally break. Hearing other people laugh always sets you off too and now is no different. Tears of joy splash against the metal flooring as you pound a fist against it, barely able to draw in air from how hard you're laughing. You're gonna be sore later, but right now? You could hardly care.
(All 12 PD turrets on the ship are now active, pity the foolish pilot who steps too close, for they know not what they have walked into. Janna gains +1 Opinion from you joining in laughter with her.)
Quest: Bugged by a Bug
That bug you found on the pirate freighter has Janna proverbially drooling at the mouth. Give the device to her so she can learn what's inside. It'll take some time for you to hear back from her on it, but you're sure that it'll be good.
Rewards: Janna gains +3 Opinion and you learn of the people behind the bug.
~~~~~~~
Your day takes a more somber note as you step into the medical ward. Only one of the David's Horn's medical crew made it out, a pink-haired medic by the name of Russel Winters. Winters glances at you as you enter, but returns to his paperwork as he recognizes you. You don't pay him much mind as you step past, your gaze set on the only patient in the medbay.
Captain Kamilla Alamo, the former captain of the David's Horn, lays in a bed, white, with blue sheets. An IV drip feeds into her arm, pumping her full of the nutrients her body requires to live.
She looks peaceful, like she's sleeping, like she's content with the world. You can't help but wonder if she's dreaming while in her coma. Hopefully, if she is dreaming, it's of a better place than right here, right now.
The effect is ruined by the thick mass of bandages and sealant covering her head, leaving her face revealed. A piece of glass from an exploding monitor had lodged itself in the former Captain's head, piercing part of the brain. You don't have the supplies or tools or necessary skill to remove the shard right now, the Itari took the first two when they left and the pirates made sure of the third's absence.
So, as much as she might have protested had she been lucid, she was put into a medical coma. The crew weren't happy with the decision, but they understood the necessity of it.
Charles isn't in here right now, he visits occasionally but he's too busy right now with taking care of the rest of the crew.
With a long and final look at Captain Kamilla, you depart. Your heart is filled with determination, a drive to make sure she wakes back up.
(Until you arrive at a station equipped to handle medical cases like Kamilla's, temporarily gain +15 to Resolve rolls)
~~~~~~~
You're dancing around simulated space containing a version of the ship and surrounding asteroids, trading blows with a simulated SUN squadron.
Most Sunner squadrons contain a couple Spearmen, a heavy combat model, and a high performance machine for the squadron leader to pilot. Here, you're up against two Spearmen, a Hoplite, and, for an absolute worst case scenario, a fucking Warmaster.
…You had to remove the Warmaster, replacing it with a Legate, the Warmaster was killing you far too quickly for you to properly engage it.
But even then, nine times out of ten, you were brought down by the squadron. And that tenth was more due to luck than anything actually reproducible, as the sim had glitched and deleted the Hoplite.
But… you are improving, if minutely. Each time the Legate drove its Heat Sword through your power cell, you inched ever closer to taking it with you. Each time you were blown up by the Hoplite's shoulder cannons, you crept ever closer to killing its pilot first. And each time you were boxed in by the Spearmen, you crawled ever closer to destroying both before they got you.
You were about to start it up again when the simpod suddenly shut down, dropping you out of the simulation to greet a blaring, red screen in your face. The screen shows you an alert, a red alert, and is requesting your presence on the bridge immediately.
"De's fucking knobbly knees." You swear, hopping out from the pod and hurrying towards the bridge. "Well, I guess those new PD turrets of ours'll have themselves a field day." You grin to yourself.
(Gain a +5 Combat bonus in your next fight if it contains a Hoplite, Legate, or Spearman)
~~~~~~~
Charles approaches you as soon as you step foot on the bridge, a serious expression on his aged face. He looks as if he's aged a decade in the past few days, deep wrinkles on his face and heavy bags cling to his eyes. In short, he doesn't look good.
"Sensors detected an approaching craft a few minutes ago." He says, briefing you on the situation as the bridge bustles around you, inexperienced crew members trying to fill roles they have little to no training in.
You shoot him a look. "It's not the Haagricorp guys, is it?" You already know the answer.
"No, there's only one and it doesn't match the IFF codes we were given." He shakes his head sadly.
"Dammit." You ball your hands into a fist as you swear.
"Quite." Charles nods, his face sagging. "It began broadcasting a message on an open channel as soon as we scanned it." He plays it and a scarred, eye-patch wearing man appears on the small screen he hands you.
<My name is Curtis Grash!> The pirate bellows, jowls quaking. You feel a hint of relief that it's not Buckshaw, your experiences in the sim still fresh. <And I demand your surrender immediately! If you do so, you will not be harmed and will be dropped off at the nearest station!>
The feed cuts out and Charles turns to you. "He's been broadcasting it on repeat ever since."
"What should we do?" He asks, a tired look in his eye.
-[ ] "Open communications, lets see what this jackass has to say."
-[ ] "Take command here, Charles, I'll be getting my Corsair ready should you need me."
-[ ] Write in
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: Janna, holy shit girl, what are your rolls today??? Voting will be called tomorrow at 6 PM CST, to give you some extra time to vote as I'm getting this out a little late.
If you've ever wondered what the launch bays look like, the mech bay from MW5 is pretty much what it looks like, just with more scaffolding and no big star thing. The launch bays in the cruiser are expanded, of course, with two more bays on the end.
Here's a screenshot:
edit: Nearly forgot to mention, but the Lancer had finished its repairs by the time the red alert sounded
Last edited:
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Alrighty, lads, voting is now closed, thank you kindly for voting!
Our winners:
[X] Yes (Starts Quest: Bugged by a Bug) with 4 votes
[X] "Open communications, lets see what this jackass has to say." with 3 votes
Our winners:
[X] Yes (Starts Quest: Bugged by a Bug) with 4 votes
[X] "Open communications, lets see what this jackass has to say." with 3 votes
Diplomatic Matters
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
"Thanks, boss!" Janna smiles as she plucks the device from your fingers. "I'll get right on it!"
~~~~~~~
You squint at the face of your opponent, Curtis Grash. He's rather plump, but it's more fat muscle than a blubberous mass of flesh. It's clear that he used to be quite the fit young man, before, well, he wasn't.
"Let me get this straight." You begin, standing on the bridge. One of the consoles you've pulled up has the ETA of the Haagricorp ships, which is in roughly ten minutes, give or take. "You want us to give you our ship."
"Correct." His cheeks shake as he nods, his fingers drum along the armrest of his command seat. His head is propped up by a hand as he gazes at you with a vaguely bored expression. You've been playing this same song and dance for the past few minutes and it's clear he tires of it.
"...and you want us to give it to you, for free, without a fight." You're not even bothering to phrase it like a question anymore. You both know how this is going to go down, at this point it's more a formality than anything else. Honestly, you can't wait to stick your sword into the fat man's Hoplite. Maybe you'll even depressurize his cockpit…
Shaking your head free of darker thoughts, you return your attention to the pirate's quibblings.
"Oh my dear Commander," Grash says, a grin on his face as he tries to emulate a more charismatic man, "I don't expect you to surrender without a fight! In fact, I relish the opportunity to prove my superiority over you. This is but an opportunity to save the lives of your men!" He holds up a hand, fingers splayed wide, before they clench shut, crushing an imaginary object beneath his gloved fingers. "Of course, that won't spare you…" He smirks a sidelong grin. "Though, maybe if you beg for mercy…"
Smitty's already in his Lancer and your Corsair's hot, that was the first order you gave as soon as you agreed to 'negotiate' with this jackass. Kellows is standing by in her Thunder, ready to give support if necessary. Even with the armor gone, the gun still functions, if at a reduced capacity.
"We'll see who's begging for mercy by the end of this, Grash." You say, signalling for the bridge crew to cut the feed.
A wide grin fills the screen, showing off a mouthful of yellowed teeth. "That we shall~!" The feed cuts out soon after, the screen filling with static for a half second before fading to black.
"They've fired their engines and are moving into attack range!" The scanning officer cries out, spinning around in her chair. Other bridge crew members announce things of similar nature as you stalk from the bridge, placing Charles in command as you head towards the launch bays.
"I'll hold down the fort." He nods in acknowledgement, barking orders to the crew.
The door swooshes shut behind you as you set your jaw, determination flooding your body.
~~~~~~~
You're in your Corsair now, making sure everything is calibrated properly. It's probably a good thing that you stalled for time, as the ETA for the Haagricorp guys has been reduced by a good couple minutes. Now all you've gotta do is play for time with these pirate asshats, who'll be on you in about a minute, if they keep this speed up.
Smitty is in his Lancer, freshly repaired and ready to get fucked up once more. The angular machine sits in its bay, across and down a bay from you.
Kellows is in her Thunder, sitting across from you in its armorless state. You don't need to open up comms with her to know that she's as determined as you are. She's ready to leap into action should something happen, but you don't think her machine is. Though, you could have her swap to the Sniper… She could probably help out a bit more with the Plasma Long-Cannon than the Triple-Barreled Autocannon the Thunder sports.
The ship's a big, immobile target, but you reckon that they'll want to keep it intact as much as possible, so you'll probably not have to worry about them blowing it up or anything like that.
You look down at your console as you spot a curious yellow sticky note on your dashboard, covering your targeting computer readouts. It's a note, and, as you read it, a grin forms on your face.
Hey-a, Boss!
I installed that targeting computer in your Corsair, figured you'd need it for the fight. But I'll uninstall it if you want me to after the fight.
Merry Crimble Nas, Boss!
-Janna
It's a bit early for a Crimble Nas present, but you're not complaining. Tucking the note away in your jacket pocket, you prepare yourself for the coming battle.
What's the plan?
-[ ] Plan name
--[ ] Write in
Vs Curtis Grash's Band
An enterprising pirate, upon learning of the existence of the damaged Itari Cruiser and the battered condition of its defenders, has decided to take it for himself.
Foes:
1 Pirate Freighter (Grade 2 Armament, Grade 1 Armor, Grade 3 Engines)
3 MBFs (2 Factory MI/Footsoldiers and 1 Stripped Down AA/Hoplite)
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: It is now canon that this world's version of Christmas, or 'Crimble Nas' as they call it, is on April 30th, the current date is March 9th, 2995. Voting will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST. Thank you all for reading and voting!
~~~~~~~
You squint at the face of your opponent, Curtis Grash. He's rather plump, but it's more fat muscle than a blubberous mass of flesh. It's clear that he used to be quite the fit young man, before, well, he wasn't.
"Let me get this straight." You begin, standing on the bridge. One of the consoles you've pulled up has the ETA of the Haagricorp ships, which is in roughly ten minutes, give or take. "You want us to give you our ship."
"Correct." His cheeks shake as he nods, his fingers drum along the armrest of his command seat. His head is propped up by a hand as he gazes at you with a vaguely bored expression. You've been playing this same song and dance for the past few minutes and it's clear he tires of it.
"...and you want us to give it to you, for free, without a fight." You're not even bothering to phrase it like a question anymore. You both know how this is going to go down, at this point it's more a formality than anything else. Honestly, you can't wait to stick your sword into the fat man's Hoplite. Maybe you'll even depressurize his cockpit…
Shaking your head free of darker thoughts, you return your attention to the pirate's quibblings.
"Oh my dear Commander," Grash says, a grin on his face as he tries to emulate a more charismatic man, "I don't expect you to surrender without a fight! In fact, I relish the opportunity to prove my superiority over you. This is but an opportunity to save the lives of your men!" He holds up a hand, fingers splayed wide, before they clench shut, crushing an imaginary object beneath his gloved fingers. "Of course, that won't spare you…" He smirks a sidelong grin. "Though, maybe if you beg for mercy…"
Smitty's already in his Lancer and your Corsair's hot, that was the first order you gave as soon as you agreed to 'negotiate' with this jackass. Kellows is standing by in her Thunder, ready to give support if necessary. Even with the armor gone, the gun still functions, if at a reduced capacity.
"We'll see who's begging for mercy by the end of this, Grash." You say, signalling for the bridge crew to cut the feed.
A wide grin fills the screen, showing off a mouthful of yellowed teeth. "That we shall~!" The feed cuts out soon after, the screen filling with static for a half second before fading to black.
"They've fired their engines and are moving into attack range!" The scanning officer cries out, spinning around in her chair. Other bridge crew members announce things of similar nature as you stalk from the bridge, placing Charles in command as you head towards the launch bays.
"I'll hold down the fort." He nods in acknowledgement, barking orders to the crew.
The door swooshes shut behind you as you set your jaw, determination flooding your body.
~~~~~~~
You're in your Corsair now, making sure everything is calibrated properly. It's probably a good thing that you stalled for time, as the ETA for the Haagricorp guys has been reduced by a good couple minutes. Now all you've gotta do is play for time with these pirate asshats, who'll be on you in about a minute, if they keep this speed up.
Smitty is in his Lancer, freshly repaired and ready to get fucked up once more. The angular machine sits in its bay, across and down a bay from you.
Kellows is in her Thunder, sitting across from you in its armorless state. You don't need to open up comms with her to know that she's as determined as you are. She's ready to leap into action should something happen, but you don't think her machine is. Though, you could have her swap to the Sniper… She could probably help out a bit more with the Plasma Long-Cannon than the Triple-Barreled Autocannon the Thunder sports.
The ship's a big, immobile target, but you reckon that they'll want to keep it intact as much as possible, so you'll probably not have to worry about them blowing it up or anything like that.
You look down at your console as you spot a curious yellow sticky note on your dashboard, covering your targeting computer readouts. It's a note, and, as you read it, a grin forms on your face.
Hey-a, Boss!
I installed that targeting computer in your Corsair, figured you'd need it for the fight. But I'll uninstall it if you want me to after the fight.
Merry Crimble Nas, Boss!
-Janna
It's a bit early for a Crimble Nas present, but you're not complaining. Tucking the note away in your jacket pocket, you prepare yourself for the coming battle.
What's the plan?
-[ ] Plan name
--[ ] Write in
Vs Curtis Grash's Band
An enterprising pirate, upon learning of the existence of the damaged Itari Cruiser and the battered condition of its defenders, has decided to take it for himself.
Foes:
1 Pirate Freighter (Grade 2 Armament, Grade 1 Armor, Grade 3 Engines)
3 MBFs (2 Factory MI/Footsoldiers and 1 Stripped Down AA/Hoplite)
Stripped Down AA/Hoplite
A tough machine, though it is slower than most. It has twin auto-targeting and auto-loading cannons on its shoulders and Laser Lance and Shield Projector in its hands. Robotic arms attached to the back load shells into the cannons. Beyond the lack of mil-grade systems, the stripped down model also has smaller cannons and a smaller magazine.
Armor: Limbs 2, Torso 4, Head 1
Armaments: Laser Lance, Shield Projector (Built into left forearm, recharges, 1 armor), Shoulder Micro-Cannons (2 Damage, 8 shells each, reloading)
Speed: 3
Systems: Basic Sensors, Basic Communications, Basic Targeting Computer
A tough machine, though it is slower than most. It has twin auto-targeting and auto-loading cannons on its shoulders and Laser Lance and Shield Projector in its hands. Robotic arms attached to the back load shells into the cannons. Beyond the lack of mil-grade systems, the stripped down model also has smaller cannons and a smaller magazine.
Armor: Limbs 2, Torso 4, Head 1
Armaments: Laser Lance, Shield Projector (Built into left forearm, recharges, 1 armor), Shoulder Micro-Cannons (2 Damage, 8 shells each, reloading)
Speed: 3
Systems: Basic Sensors, Basic Communications, Basic Targeting Computer
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: It is now canon that this world's version of Christmas, or 'Crimble Nas' as they call it, is on April 30th, the current date is March 9th, 2995. Voting will be called tomorrow at 2 PM CST. Thank you all for reading and voting!