00 - THE PURSUIT - Interlude Opportunity

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Malcom Young
Posts: 36
Joined: Sat Sep 29, 2018 12:26 pm

Re: 00 - Interlude Opportunity

Post by Malcom Young »

"The Multidimensional Exploits of Temporus, Pangalactic Superhero"
by Malcom Young

Chapter 1
'Ocean of Silence'

Have you ever found yourself floating in space with 23 minutes of life support remaining? I have. The experience is unexpectedly serene. There I was, Floating in space, watching colony planet T3b-2 burn like a cozy bonfire in space as the Pursuit and <Insert our Ship Name here> circled and manuevered though the space around me, straffing one another, their missile bursts and laser blasts mesmerizing me. The entire experience was deathly, surreally silent and absolutely, terrifyingly beautiful.

"But Malcom, how did you ever find yourself in such a horrible situation, and how did you manage to scrape through?" one might ask me.

Well, if you are reading this memoir, I should make it known that I am Temporus, superhero and master of space and time, which is both how I got into this mess, and how I got out of it.

My team and crew of the <Insert our Ship Name here> were in pursuit of Megadeath. He was a newly surfaced supervillain with unknown, planet-level destructive power. Courtesy of a bit of eavesdropping while sharing neighboring stalls with a rather high up media mogul, Power Dump managed to get the scoop mid-poop. T3b-2 was Megadeath's next target.

So, PD powered through his situation and rushed back to the ship. We jumped to T3b-2 and made great time, but it was too late. We were running scans and listening in hopes of finding clues or survivors when the Pursuit showed up - late to the party as usual.

Now, I don't have any issues with the Pursuit or its captain Nemesis. But we needed information, and we didn't need her getting any. Also, shes a capital 'B' bitch. So I decided to handle the situation.

I did some calculations based upon the Pursuits approach, checked the timing with the computer, and teleported. Right into our ships engine room. Which was the right room. But the wrong ship!

No one's perfect, so I decided to teleport back to the bridge and figure out what in the hell had happened. Wrong move. It turns out, the Pursuit's engine room is roughly located where our ship's engine room is. The bridge, however, was not. Our ship is longer.

It turns out, Hiesh, being the crafty devil he is, expected such shenanigans. It takes a pretty good brain and a lot of balls to attempt ship-to-ship teleportation. I happen to have both in spades.

The crafty devil set up a convincing illusion in the Pursuit's engine room, transforming it to appear to be our ship's engine room, likely in hopes of buying a little time for countermeasures to be attempted during the ensuing confusion. He probably didn't expect me to space myself. These things happen.

Now, how did I get out of this mess? I already let that one slip! The same way I got into it...
Malcom Young
Temporus, Master of Space and Time
Pace: 6; Parry: 8 Toughness: 12(6)
Combat-Relevant Edges & Abilities:
  • Alertness (+2 Notice).
  • Elan (+2 to the total result when using a benny).
  • Improved Frenzy.
  • Quick (When dealt initiative 5 or lower, redraw until higher than 5).
  • Pathwalking:
    • Free action to Activate.
    • Ignore any and all obscurement penalties except cover.
    • Enemies do not benefit from gang up vs Malcom.
    • Range penalties are halved.
    • -4 Penalty to be attacked unless caught unaware. May make Agility roll vs AoE Attack if aware to evade it.
  • SPC Danger Sense.
  • SPC Extra Action 1.
Wounds: 0/3; Fatigue: 0/2
Bennies: 1/3; Golden Bennies: 1/1
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Venatus Vinco
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Posts: 2872
Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2016 3:30 pm

Re: 00 - Interlude Opportunity

Post by Venatus Vinco »

“Brace for impact,” the pilot warned, trying, and failing, to sound nonchalant as he guided the Battering Ram armored assault robot to the surface of the asteroid.

Back in the troop compartment Sa'Maku and the rest of the 53rd Assault Group prepared to disembark. The five-three were all experienced troops, mainly Catyr, Seljuk, and Wolfen along with humans in Ground Pounder assault armor.

The group had been conducting raids like this for months. Boarding vessels, attacking depots and supply posts throughout the Pirate Expanse. It was all part of a Consortium show of force following a brutal pirate assault on a luxury liner in the Anvil Galaxy. However, this raid was a little different. The brass wanted to recover something that was stolen. Of course, no one could say what that something was.

The Battering Ram hit the sidewall of the makeshift space station with a jarring crash, buffeted by escaping atmosphere venting through the hole it just made. Outside, Silverhawk power armor buzzed around keeping fighters and point defense busy.

“Hull breached. Atmosphere escaping. Gravity in tact,” the pilot reported. That was their cue Sa'Maku and the fifty-third stepped to the door and prepared to disembark.

Stepping onto the station the Sa’ looked around. It was a hodgepodge construct made of various stolen parts and salvage, held together with makeshift rivets and good fortune. Various gases vented into the corridor as they were sucked into the vacuum of space. Down the corridor a group of Pirates opened fire in a half hearted attempt to repel the boarding. A hail of fire from the Ground Pounders put a stop to it, but their heavy weapons caused the station to rock and sway.

“No heavy weapons,” Maku hissed, “Or this station may break apart beneath our feet. Hold this position while we secure the objective.” Powering up his massive halberd Sa lead the team toward the cargo bay. Beside him, two giant Wolfen - still small next to Sa - held monomolecular blades. Most of the pirates fled at the sight. Any who were brave enough to stand and fight were cut down like wheat at the winnowing.

Entering the cargo bay, Sa'Maku spotted the target container being loaded by another crew. Taking a massive leap he prepared to sweep them all with his halberd. Instead she was tackled in mid-air by a giant brute of a being. While not nearly as graceful as Sa, the being was even stronger than the mighty Seljuk warrior. As he struggled to break free Maku saw his teammates vaporized by a powerful weapon, while others died from the crushing weight of cargo containers being throw at them. These were no ordinary pirates. Slamming his foe against the station wall, the force causing it to buckle, Sa'Maku fought to escape but the grip was tighter than the jaws of a predator on Gemini 2.

Sa watched helplessly as his team was mowed down and the cargo container carried away. Someone called to the monstrosity, still pinning Maku to the wall, “Grudge. We have to go.”

In a massive, and lucky, blow the being - called Grudge - knocked Sa'Maku into a group of cargo containers causing them to collapse on top of the Seljuk. Fighting his way free, Sa found himself in an empty cargo bay. He broke into a run, bounding down corridors at breakneck speed, reaching the hangar in time to watch a ship pull away. He read the designation as it broke out of the bay and somehow avoided fire from the Consortium blockade.

The Pursuit
.
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Jarle Vargr
Posts: 14
Joined: Thu Oct 11, 2018 9:05 am

Re: 00 - Interlude Opportunity

Post by Jarle Vargr »

Jarle threw back another shot. Not that is would do any good, the filtration systems would render the alcohol inert before it could affect him. Still, what was left of his tongue and enjoyed the slow burn, even if it was some of the worst rotgut in the galaxy.

How the hell did he get here? Investigating that job on the warehouse raid back in Center seemed like another life. In a way it was, Jarle was so deep undercover at this point that he wondered if his CAF superiors even remembered him. The evidence from that raid definitely pointed to The Centenarian which probably meant Nemesis and her crew. It was the first solid lead the CAF had gotten and that hadn’t been much at all.

He and his partner, Gotlieb a Noro, had gotten there just as the Centarian’s were trying to make a break for it. Gotlieb has said he had a bad feeling, and Jarle should of listened. Fresh off Quatoria conversion, the Wolfen thought he was the Alpha Dog.

“Nah we can handle this, Gottie.”

Why was I so damn stupid? The two had gone in guns blazing and quickly realized they were outnumbered and outgunned. Still, the Quatoria were tough, really tough and the Jarle stood his ground as Gravitonic rounds zipped around him. Gotlieb wasn’t though, and Jarl’s keen hearing picked up the grunt that he would never forget. Against all tactical sense, Jarle went to his fallen partner and the two were soon pinned by the Centenarian fire. At the time, Jarle thought they both were done for. But that voice, a voice he recorded and later identified as Lasah, called for a cease fire and the Centenarian simply stopped and left. Why?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gotlieb lived but he required extensive surgery. His psychic powers were never really the same and though he did not blame Jarle, things were different. He took extended leave and opted out of the next mission. Jarle now wished he had, too. But he was hell bent on revenge just like the rest of the department. Nobody hurt one of your own, nobody.


“Jarle, I want you to go undercover. Join up with some real scum and see if you can get close to Nemesis and the crew of the Pursuit or at least find out some intel so we can bring in the calvary.”

Jarle remembered Chief Skallgrim’s words like it was yesterday, but it wasn’t yesterday was it? Jarle could look at his internal logs and get the time past down to a fraction of a second but that would only reinforce the fact that it had been years.

Joining a crew had been easy enough. They were a dime a dozen in the Anvil galaxy. Through a few leads of his own and files the Consortium had on record, he found the Seljuk Sa’ Maku. Seems he had had a run in with the crew of the Pursuit too so it seemed like a perfect opportunity. The Seljuk was guilty of raiding a luxury liner or so his file said. Jarle wasn’t so sure anymore and it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except finding The Pursuit. Jarle had done and allowed things to be done that would put him away for a while, too. Heck, the crew he was with was nearly as famous at this point. He wondered how Hannibal dealt with that fact He new the Marine underwent the same sort of training he had even if the basis was arcane instead of technical in nature. Maybe when this was all over, he would ask him. Then again maybe not.


“Do what it takes. You have full authority and flexibility in tracking down Nemesis.”

Did he? Jarle wasn’t so sure anymore. The encrypted reports he sent back were simply ‘Acknowledged’ with not additional instructions. At least his connections were still good. There wasn’t any heat on him yet from the CAF from what he could find out. So that meant he was to see the mission through. And he would, if it was the last thing he ever did.

“You want another one, Buddy?”

“Nah, I’m good.”


It was time to get back to the ship.
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Mox
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Joined: Thu Oct 04, 2018 2:02 pm

Re: 00 - Interlude Opportunity

Post by Mox »

"I'm out!" the one-eyed Seljuk declares in a frustrated roar. He pushes his chips away from him as if concerned the cursed things could somehow infect him, and quickly leaves the table. Wearing a giant grin of satisfaction, Slip, the cocky, self-assured pilot, collects her winnings. Using both arms, she rakes the splashed chips into her area and quickly stacks them. "Come back anytime!" she taunts triumphantly. There is a quiet murmur in the peanut gallery. It had taken six hours, but the no-limit table of 8 was at-last whittled down to the final two.

Opposite Slip, Mox (then going by the name Haddon, and wearing a synthetic face to mask his true identity) let out a small sigh. To the observers present, the audible was likely due to Haddon's undersized pile of chips relative to Slip's. The reality, however, was very different. Slowly and methodically, Haddon played the game of chance with the singular goal of improving his 'people-reading' abilities. The underlying math of the card game was trivial to his computational mind. But linking behavior to intent required masses of data. And though Haddon had the rough odds calculated, his 80% confidence wasn't enough to satisfy his machine-like sensibilities.

"You sure you don't want to call it quits? I have you beat 5-to-1. I'm just going to grind you out." Slip offers, adopting a power-pose intent on bullying her opponent through the size of her chip stack.

"You may have more chips right now, but mine are prettier. And I'm confident yours will come to their senses and join mine in no time." Haddon parries and ripostes with a wry smirk. There is a soft chuckle from the gallery suggesting somebody found the remark humorous. Slip responds with a smile bordering on a snarl. Anger elevation, level 2. No effect on card valuations. Aggressive behavior +.274. Haddon calculates and factors in the mathematical parameters that serve as proxies for his analysis of behavior.

Cards are dealt and Haddon spends the next two dozen hands confirming his algorithm still holds in the heads-up competition. In that time, he continues to mostly break even, winning some, losing some, even folding hands when Slip tries to put him all-in. Haddon's patience seems to aggravate Slip and her play-style becomes increasingly aggressive, trying to extract more out of Haddon with each passing hand. It isn't long before that aggressiveness sets the perfect environment for a trap. Haddon plays as though his hand is weak and Slip takes the bait, pushing him to go all-in. A consummate actor, Haddon seems to ponder the decision, unsure (despite knowing full well the advantage is heavily in his favor). Before agreeing and ultimately winning the hand.

Doubled up, Haddon is no longer at such a large disadvantage. He is able to play more options and Slip's aggression is tempered in the face of a competitive chip stack. Over the next two hours, Haddon methodically counter-grinds. As he takes small pots from the pilot, her tell becomes more and more prominent. The soft click of the small antique metallic lighter with "Zippo" etched on its surface soon becomes a bell announcing Slip's hesitation in the strength of her hand. Eventually, Haddon evens their chip count with a large gouge after lulling her into a false sense of security. Faced with even chips, Slip becomes even less sure of herself. And it becomes Haddon's turn to apply the millstone. It takes another hour, but Haddon eventually pushes Slip all in and takes the pot.

"Naw naw naw." Slip mutters as she rises to her feet and runs her hands through her hair in frustration, "I had that game won three hours ago. I don't know how, but you cheated me!" Her voice reverberates loudly in the enclosed den, but the words ring hollow to those who observed. To them, it was clear the superior gamesman had won.

"You are mistaken. I played fairly and adhered to the rules of the game. I won. You lost." Haddon says softly as he shrugs lightly and begins to rise to his feet.

In the blink of an eye, Slip produces an energy pistol and the barrel is instantly pointed at Haddon's face. "You've got it backwards," she says between heavy breaths. "If I don't walk out those doors with the money, it's you that is going to be the big loser." There is the sound of additional weapons being drawn, none of them belonging to Haddon. It is clear that embedded in the galley were some of Slip's friends or compatriots and they effectively got the drop on the two bouncers that acted as referees keeping the game civil among the gaggle of criminals gathered at this high-stakes game.

Not particularly caring about the credits lost, but logging the betrayal in his memories, Haddon nods in acquiescence, "Yes, I believe you are correct. You win. I lose."

With a huff of indignation, Slip gathers up the money and makes her exit, quickly followed by those who had enabled her. Those remaining buzz like an angry hive, impotent to do anything, but quite upset at the loss of money. Haddon, however, does not join in the cacophony. Instead, he sits back down, folds his hands in front of him and reviews the implications of how the scene played out.

For those keen of hearing, a soft clicking sound can be heard among the din. Moments later, Haddon puts something in his pocket and quietly walks out the door.
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Power Dump
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Joined: Thu Oct 11, 2018 7:39 pm

Re: 00 - Interlude Opportunity

Post by Power Dump »

Power Dump looks at the crew of the Thunder Duck gathered at there half painted skee-ball table. Why do we always eat here? Black tubes go in and out of the bio-borg’s pale flesh, and as always his weapons are within arms reach and his D armor ( a series of black matte plates arcane sigils, and technowizard baubles) is well situated on his frame. To most he gives off a more than creepy vibe, not helped by his glistening silver third arm... But to some extent it is his eyes and the gigantic mouth on his chest that really brings if him from suave or debonair to a lowly slug in terms of charisma. His eyes are ever alert but it is like no one is behind them at the wheel. Does he even have a soul? The mouth, a horrible bio-wizard parasite is always dripping with silivia and gnashing its teeth. Its about the size of an old earth basketball. The horrid putrid toungue is currently resting wrapped arround Power Dump’s neck.
Yet for some reason a beautiful Alatara techno wizard with an easy smile, and a body that will not quite dotes and follows him arround as long as he is on the ship. It must be nice not to be able to see... But seriously the smell from the bathroom makes it all the way out here, can’t we train this bio-borg to courtesy flush?

Power puts the food down and suddenly with little tact nor prompt blurts going for a grin but instead manages a mangled frown, ” Nemisis is responsible for my being aboard the Thunder Duck...”

Fresh from Splynn, freed from their yoke by the Earther Malcomn the wise, nay the bold... A hero among heroes, a hero who delivered the old code. I couldn’t ever wash the stench of the bountiful buffet but I could find my place a new in this world. With Arsonel by my side... We could do anything.

I found my self in a crampped bar on the north side of Central. Aliens... Folks normally reserved for the buffet walked free here. An interesting sight to behold. Arsonel was told to wait outside, and I entered alone... Last time I would ever go someplace alone. Nemisis was sitting cooly at one end of a plush couch that wrapped itself lengthwise arround a silver polished table. We talked at length about many things, my skills, my less than heroic journey, my weapons amassed in my fortune and glory. She raised her eye at the total sum of my carried wealth. I was not familiar with her background or I would have never approached her... Time wizards and D-team members just never mix well. Too much of us hunting them mercilessly to ever be forgotton. In the end she told me this...

”So... Power Dump is it? You might be a real ace, maybe even a notch better than slip. But I can’t use you aboard my ship. You are too ugly frankly and I would never trust you. Tell you what though...” She wore a hi-collared jacket that evening... The last time she would ever need to wear such a thing. I missed it rustling during our conversation, but she opened it wide while two of her crew pinned me down. A small wriggling mouth was centered on her chest, A.K.A The Thing it was called.

She smilled down at me as she looped her legs arround my torso straddling me. A viscious smile... I had seen it on Splyn... I had hunted her for a time... She was a Temoral Wizard! I struggled in vain while she pressed her chest to mine. She whispered to me, ” I remember you Dump... I picked this little bugger up last week. A chest amalgate, something your Hi-Lord would have given you I suspect. Well it hasn’t taken root quite yet and it needs a bit more meat.” I felt something bit me and burrow deep with in my body. Her lips locked oer mind drowning out my scream. ”Hon, maybe you should try your luck with those loosers over on the Thunder Duck... I hope you enjoy Seymour.”

I blacked out and when I woke up I saw my Lady Arsonel crouched close over me with some kind of scanner in hand. She frowned but I took her hand and said, ” I got a good lead on a great ship with a fine crew.”
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OOC Comments
Attributes: Agility d12(1R, 3) Smarts d8(2FG), Spirit d4, Strength d8(2R)[d12], Vigor d8 (2)
Charisma: -5 or -9; Pace: 20, leap 4”x 8”; Parry: 8 ; Toughness: 13(7); Strain: 0 ; PPE: 25
Edges of Note: Brave, Elan, Ace
Skills of Note: Fighting d12, Piloting d12+3, Notice d8, Stealth d10, Smite d10
Combat Edges:
  • Killer Instinct, Improved Level Headed, Combat Ace, Quick Draw
Combat Abilities:
  • Danger Sense Super Power
  • 2 Extra Actions (Third Arm, and Fast Reflexes)
Weapon of Note
  • BFB: str +2d8, Notes: AP 4, enchanted silver, Mega Damage for 1 Power Point; for +4 PPs also gain +2 Fighting, the Improved Frenzy and Berserk Edges, and +4 Armor for three rounds.
  • Draining Blade: str +1d8, Notes: Costs 3 Power Points to charge for +2 damage. If spend 3 Power Points before making an attack with the blade, then on a successful hit, the target makes an opposed Spirit roll against the wielder's Fighting result to resist both lower Trait (Vigor) and slow.
Powers: PPE 25/20
Active: d12 spirit(1round), exalted detect arcana(2 rounds)
Self: Intangibility( 6 PEE, Stealth increase) Smite (2, Resurrection Dispel)
Armor: Teleport (3+, Dimensional Follow), Darksight (1, Enhanced Vision), Dispel(3, Temporal Lockdown)
Jacket: Q4 Talisman creation( arcane machinist)
  • Boost/Lower “Quantum Box Talisman” 10/2 PPE
  • Invisibility “ Vanishing Talisman” 15/15 PPE
  • detect/conceal “Arcane Talisman” 15/13 PPE
  • Eviormental Protection “Adaptive Climate Control Talisman” 15/15 PPE
  • Bolt, “God Gun” 15/11 PPE
Bennies
0 Golden
5/3
+1 Hi post rate
+1 F and G
+1 honor hindrance
+1 debatchery Hindrance
+1 benny for catching Hiesh
-1 Agility catch the slip
-1 Agility to find Heish
-1 Tracking Sovereign
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Death Otter
Posts: 155
Joined: Fri Oct 05, 2018 9:25 pm

Re: 00 - Interlude Opportunity

Post by Death Otter »

The job was good, shoulda been. Some poor asswad had skipped his papa corporation and tried to get smart about it. He took a golden jetpack of paydata from the company datavaults. The job? Get the data, any means. Bonus points for the schlub's head, living or dead.

Despite her name, Death Otter was much more into data retrieval. In this case though, the file was being carried by a man, so it was the man she had to find. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one looking. Worse, she wasn't the first to find him.

The target was currently in the custody of some idiots on a ship called the Pursuit. A gang of somewhat thuggy bounty hunters with a rep for ruthless efficiency. Low body count; high property damage. The sort of outfit Otter might have signed onto, if she didn't want the paydirt for herself. Instead, she was infiltrating their ship to abduct the poor sucker from under their noses.

Most hackers D0 knew avoided showing up in person. They liked to kick back in secure locations and remote in. Otter was more of a hands-on kind of gal. With bright bubblegum pink hair and skintight black bodysuit over her kind of skinny frame, she was pretty conspicuous...but throw some clothes on over it, and put on a hat and she blended right in.

Starport data security was a joke. She cracked it by the snack machine, elbowing some weird bug-alien out of the way when it took too long to decide which button to push. All those hands, but not a brain to make them work.

From there the starship registry told her what she needed; the berth the Pursuit was docked at and the name of the officer tasked with monitoring it. Otter spun up a galaxy of network spiders to crawl around and dig up all the data on that guy as she took the trip over to the Pursuit's berth, pausing to get a selfie with the cool-ass starship hull they'd hung up over the central hub. By the time Otter rolled up to 12-A Sub 1, she knew quite a lot about Bay Coordinator G'frah Dekritz. Including his world of birth, birthdate, and via his company emails, a heap of personal data.

Thus armed, she created a quick decryption array and brute-forced the poor fuck's password, then immediately changed it...locking him out of the system. Nothing that happened on the Pursuit would get noticed or logged. With his access Death Otter put the control room on 'debugging/diagnostic' mode, which meant none of the alerts or attempts by him to do anything would be recognized as 'real' by the rest of the port network. Then she trapped him in the room by simulating a security lockdown.

Fucking flawless. There should be awards for this, she thought. But then how would she walk around, carrying all those awards? She'd be buried in them. Get real.

Now the Pursuit. It was trickier, though her oppo research indicated they didn't have an infowars specialist on the team. Even so, they weren't chumps. The ship had a decent firewall and access control, and the crew who had anything beyond 'read only' access were careful about the shit they leaked onto public networks. It would have been enough to keep them safe from any other hacker. The job needed a hands-on kind of girl.

Otter found a bit of ornamentation to duck behind and wiggle out of her clothes. Her armored suit was on underneath of course. She fit its sleek, slimline helmet over her head and engaged the seals. The black exterior of the suit shimmered and became lighter in tone, matching the gunmetal grey of the port walls there. Not invisibility...and godsdamned if she didn't want that kind of tech...but it was pretty good for sneaking around, and that's what the doctor ordered for this.

She ghosted out into the berth and ducked down behind a loader on the far side where she could see the boarding ramp jutting out from behind the Pursuit. Then, using the starport access from G'frah, she sent the ship a very official-looking message, with really actually real starport authentication, asking the crew of the Pursuit to head on down to the port authority to discuss some registry anomalies and 'related complaints.' Along with vague threats of fines for noncompliance.

Sure enough, within a few minutes, a surly-looking band of fuckwits exited the ship behind a downright MURDEROUS looking woman who seemed ready to just rip her way right through the bulkheads to get to the port authority. That would be the captain, who went by the incredibly pretentious name of Nemesis. It was all Death Otter could do to keep herself from busting a gut at that.

She scurried over to the ramp as it started to rise back up, and swung herself on board the Pursuit. It'd be just minutes before they figured her out. She had to make them count.

No deckplans for the Pursuit itself, though Otter had found the stock model's plans. She figured if they didn't have the target stashed in the cargo hold, they'd probably have refit one or more of the passenger cabins into some kind of brig. And, damn she was good, there they were. A reinforced door with some of the bulkhead replaced by security glass, and inside were three small cells...with one of them occupied.

And in the corridor peering into the glass, was the biggest fucking goon Death Otter had ever seen. Because obviously they wouldn't leave their prize ALONE, would they? No. Of course not.

It was fine though, she had it covered. Otter knew this guy from the research she'd done. He went by Grudge. Grade A psychopath with some kind of augmentation, she thought, though couldn't be sure what sort. The networked consensus was that the only thing keeping him from committing suicide by mass-murder was that he tended to back off when Nemesis gave the word. Death Otter doubted he was as dumb as he looked though. Fortunately, he looked SO DUMB that even giving him that benefit of the doubt probably meant he was still pretty stupid.

She concentrated and found Grudge's communicator. Another few seconds was enough to crack the encryption on their crew channel. Then 'Nemesis' contacted Grudge and demanded that he cuff the prisoner and take him out to the ramp.

Grudge was obviously confused, but when he started to ask questions, Otter made sure Nemesis shut him down hard.

He hesitated, then opened the door to the brig. Otter grinned.

Then a voice from behind her rang out.

"Grudge, belay that order."

The giant looked back questioningly. "The captain..."

"Yes, the captain. I'll take the heat. Now, if you wouldn't mind coming over here and helping me with something?"

Death Otter was already bolting, her mind whirling a thousand meters per second. Hadn't left Grudge alone with the prisoner, which in hindsight made sense. Stupid. Got ahead of herself...made a move without securing the area. Shit!

Something hit her from behind...an electrical charge by the tingle. Otter grinned again and kept running. The ATEW suit was designed specifically to deal with electromagnetic pulses, surges and radiation. The superconducting layer bled most of that shit off before it ever got to her. Death Otter 1, stun gun 0.

Then something far more ominous. Thudding, pounding footfalls. Fast. Why was he so fast?!

Otter darted around a corner, but there just weren't many places to run on a starship. Plenty of places to try to wiggle into to hide, but he was too close! If only she'd found that cloaking tech! Maybe she could get into the crawlways, or down to engineering where there'd be spots too small for him to get into...

An arm nearly as big as she was slammed into Death Otter, knocking her sideways against the bulkhead and sending her sprawling. The ATEW suit's surface immediately stiffened into an impact-absorbant plate, reducing bone-breaking force into merely bruising...but it still knocked her off balance.

She rolled back to her feet and threw herself sideways just in time to avoid a massive hamfist that dented the plating where she'd been a moment before. Grudge grimaced and reached down for her...and grabbed air. Death Otter, once engaged, proved a wily one. Every move Grudge made was telegraphed clearly in the bunching of his muscles and the movement of his center of gravity and eyes. To her enhanced neural processing, the split seconds there were to notice those details were leisurely things indeed.

Otter backed away, eyes on Grudge, ducking and weaving each of his attempts to crush or smash. Then she caught in the corner of her eyes a faint flicker of movement. A dip in the amount of glare coming off a control panel in the corridor to her left. The light was overhead and behind, the angle of reflection...someone was coming up behind her. Shit!

The hacker twisted away and spotted the other one, the one who'd talked. Royce. Humanoid alien. Not bad looking if you were into weird ears. Probably would look better without the smirk.

He aimed his pistol at her.

"Look, I'm trying to be reasonable here. Stand down, or I'll ask Grudge to stop holding back."

Death Otter risked a glance at the giant. "Doesn't seem so bad to me. He got a lucky sucker punch in, but I can do this dance all day."

"But you don't have all day, do you?" Royce smirked. "I've gotten a message out to captain and crew. They'll be back any minute. And there's nowhere on the ship you can hide from me. Do yourself a favor and stand down willingly. Otherwise, it's his way." He nodded at Grudge, who smiled a hard little smile. "And I hate to have to watch him work."

The hacker sighed and closed her eyes, letting her face drop into her hand. It was the kind of gesture people typically made when they were giving up. Which meant it was a good distraction for when she was totally not giving up. Instead she called on her memory of the ship as she'd run through it, and on the deck plans...looking for...yeah, that'd do.

"Better." You could even hear the smirk. That took talent, and practice. "Grudge, take her back to the detention cells...as a guest this time."

Goddamnit, she hated leaving a job unfinished, but that was the breaks. Rep could be rebuilt, but not from inside a stasis prison.

Otter waited for the immense presence of Grudge to come up behind her, the air he pushed tickling the hairs on the back of her neck and setting off every little alarm instinct she had. She opened her eyes and gave Royce a little 'fuckya' smile, just to let him know he'd been had. Then she charged the pointy-eared bastard.

Whatever Royce had been expecting, it hadn't been that. His brain wasted precious milliseconds adjusting. To his credit, his reflexes were fast. Really fast. Just not quite fast enough. He did the natural thing when one expected to be charged. His feet went apart, knees bent and balance adjusted forward to brace.

Just before she was in fist range though, Otter took a dive and skidded right between those feet, now so generously wide, rolling back up to her feet behind him. Royce whirled around, but was still a step behind. He'd expected to see her running down the corridor, or perhaps ready to fight...but what he saw was a hatch slide closed.

"There's no way out of there either," he called, exasperated. "You're only..."

That was when the elf realized what hatch that was.

"...shit."

Alarm klaxons went off through the ship, and a calm, gender-neutral voice announced, "Pod launch terminated; protocol breach. Warning. Safety protocols have been overridden. Pod launch in five seconds."

Royce lifted his voice to shout at the computer, "Terminate launch! We're in a starport! Cancel the launch!"

"Safety protocols have been overridden. Warning. Launch in T minus three..."

The digital display showing the countdown flickered, and was suddenly replaced by the image of a rather cute little animal with sleek fur and a streamlined head with long whiskers that had been modified with metal plates and other cybernetic implants. It grinned maliciously out of the display and made a very rude gesture as the ship suddenly rocked as if struck, and there was a loud WHUM sound from the electromagnetic accelerators propelling the escape pod clear of the ship.

The next several seconds were extremely dangerous, even compared to the seconds that had come immediately beforehand.

A small pod, rising quickly into controlled airspace over a starport meant that every moment was risking a collision with a ship that was either not paying attention, or just couldn't turn or stop in time. There wasn't much Death Otter could do about it either. She had only one more stage to the plan, which was NOT to be on this thing when it came back down with starport security AND those bounty-hunters waiting at the exact spot it made landfall.

Just one more set of safeties to mangle and...Otter nodded, and operated the manual controls on the tiny one-person airlock built into the pod. Within the howl of wind was shockingly loud, but getting quieter as the pod reached the top of its trajectory. That'd be the time to do it.

Wait for it...wait...wait...now!

The outer hatch opened, and Death Otter was sucked out by the slipstream. After a breathless few seconds tumbling through the air, she managed to get her arms and legs under control and straighten out. Then the memory material of her suit took on another configuration...growing thin membranes that connected her ankles and wrists. Those membranes caught the wind and changed freefall into a sort of headlong glide. Wasn't really meant to be used as a parachute, but hey...escape pods weren't meant to be fired while landed at a starport either. Improvisation!

No payoff though, and that hurt. Otter made a mental note to herself to seek petty and vindictive vengeance upon them at the earliest opportunity.
Last edited by Death Otter on Wed Oct 31, 2018 10:53 pm, edited 1 time in total.
User avatar
Ramson Gourdaine
Posts: 110
Joined: Thu Oct 18, 2018 10:59 am

Re: 00 - Interlude Opportunity

Post by Ramson Gourdaine »

Ramson walked through the city's streets in an uncharacteristically good mood. It had been a hard week, but a successful one. Their future employer, Alexian Fromosia, was offering a sizeable retrieval contract, but she wanted proof they were up to the task, first. So she'd had a bunch of smaller jobs lined up as tests, first.

The crew had done well--five minor criminals rounded up--well, four were rounded up by Jarle and Sa'Maku. The fifth, a nastier piece of work than the rest who'd had a 'dead or alive' notation on his contract, drew the short straw in the form of Power Dump. They'd had to keep the head for identification, but the rest was already digested. The bounty was a little less, but frankly, it was still counting as a win in Ramson's book.

Death Otter had managed, in the meantime, to correct a security breach at one of Fromosia's outlying offices, simply by breaking in herself, and figuring out how the data thief had been doing it (apparently, he was getting partway in physically, then hacking from inside the building, thereby bypassing the very nasty Black ICE that was guarding the system from external threats). She even managed to put a tracer on one the thief when he came back, and she'd told Malcolm where to find him; Temporus had made short work of the street rat, and managed to come back not only with a bonus bounty, but also retrieve the missing data.

Mox had played crucial support throughout the week, stepping in to help whoever needed it, making sure all their bases were covered. The crew was really starting to come together, and this would be a fantastic payoff. Ramson allowed himself to whistle as he entered Fromosia's main office.

Later, he'd assume it was the whistle that did him in.

*************

"This is outrageous!" he bellowed at the sharply dressed woman behind her desk. "We had a deal!"

"No, Captain, we had an understanding, that if your people completed the tasks I laid out, I would give you the contract. However in the meantime, the contract was completed, so there's no need for your services. You will be compensated according to the terms I laid out for the assorted tasks the crew of the Relentless have accomplished."

He couldn't fully contain the snarl that came up from is diaphragm. "Those terms were negotiated with the understanding that those assignments were going to be proof of competence! As it is, the fees will barely cover our operating expenses."

"Well, I'm sorry for that, Captain Gourdaine, but as I said, I simply have no other need for your services at this time. You may collect on the sundry contracts you completed on your way out." She turned her chair around, clearly dismissing him. He barely managed to restrain himself from lunging at the back of her chair--if he hadn't passed two power-armored guards on his way in, he might not have managed it.

As he stormed out of the offices, clutching the meager payment--honestly, a bit more than just their expenses, but by no means what they could have been earning in that time if they'd been taking real jobs instead of this scut-work--and still trying to process what happened, he had a revelation, in the form of a pointy-eared weasel coming in through the front door.

"Royce! You--you and that she-devil you work for did this!"

The elf gave a casual sneer in response, clearly secure while standing in the sight of the front security cameras and their attached miniguns. "Why, Captain, I'm sure I have no idea what you mean. I simply used my humble skills to negotiate a contract on behalf of Captain Nemesis, as is my honored duty. Miss Fromosia is an... enthusiastic negotiator, you know."

Trembling with rage, the Simvan leaned forward, being careful to not actually make contact. "Altaran mushrooms. Red peppers from Sontair. Callipsan cinnamon. Clay baked in a fire pit for three hours."

The elf looked confused. "My good man, what are you talking about?"

"Your recipe. I'm committing it to memory." With that, Ramson turned and stalked down the stairs of the Fromosia office complex.

Behind him, the elf just tsk'ed. "Once a savage, always a savage, I guess..." Royce went in to collect on the bounty he'd negotiated--and maybe a bit of fun. Fromosia was so very enthusiastic....
Ramson Gourdaine
Stat Block
Simvan Rogue Scholar, Seasoned
Agility d6, Smarts d8-1, Spirit d8, Strength d6, Vigor d6
Charisma: 0/-4; Pace: 6/d6; Parry: 5; Toughness: 17 (10); Strain: 0
Riding d6; Psionics d10; Investigation d8+2; Streetwise d8+2; Fighting d6; Notice d8
Shooting d4; Intimidate d8+2; Taunt d8+2; Piloting d6; Persuasion d4
Knowledges: Astrogation d8; Battle d8+2; Politics d8; Science d8+2
Hindrances: Monologuer, Stubborn, Loyal, Bloodthirsty
Edges: Beast Master/Sidekick; Major/Master Psionics;
Investigator; Strong-Willed; Scholar (Battle/Science);
Command; Tactician; Team Leader; Connections (UWW & TGE)
Powers: beast friend; boost/lower Trait; telepathy; puppet; environmental adaptation; darksight; farsight
"Scythe" (TW Hoverboard): Acc/TS: 5/20, Piloting +2, +5 PPE
ISP: 39/40
Bennies: 4/3
Golden Benny: 1/1





User avatar
Nimbus
Posts: 43
Joined: Fri Oct 19, 2018 3:45 pm

Re: 00 - Interlude Opportunity

Post by Nimbus »

Like most days at the Splynn Dimensional Market, it’s a hot one. Nimbus and his team are artfully sprinkled into the crowd, easily blending into the diverse crowd. This time Nimbus wears an insectoid mask, passing as a Sunaj Assasin. He sees her from a dozen meters away, Nemesis. Her beauty is only surprassed by her cruelty. While Nimbus is just a junior member of the team, Nemesis is the leader, proving herself countless times as being both intelligent and merciless. The acquire the target, an Ogre named Jimleth who fought his way out of the arena to become one of it’s biggest profiteers. He owns a highly competitive team of slaves that fight to the death, winning for the most part. This has created a good amount of wealth for him, and he isn’t afraid to show it. The gem he proudly displays around his neck is beyond priceless, and only a fool would try to steal it in broad daylight. A fool, or a highly skilled team of Temporal Warriors and Wizards. Nemesis was the decoy, and damn good at it. She didn’t overplay it by fawning over it, nor did she place the ice queen and ignore him. She looked at him shyly, and looked away at just the right moment. If only he knew that she was the predator, and that he was the prey. After a half hour or so of idle chit chat, at which she blushed at the appropriate moments, they took a shortcut through a alley to his penthouse apartment. Nimbus and the rest of the crew were there laying in wait. Jimleth tried to summon one of his tattoo monsters, but Nimbus his him with temporal magic at just the right time, freezing him in place. Nemesis gingerly removed the necklace from Jimleth, planting a kiss on his lips. They were all ready to escape with the ill gotten goods, when the Gun brothers showed up. They were big, they were strong, the best of the best. They didn’t stand a chance. Nimbus grabbed a Battle Fury Blade he happened to acquire earlier, driving it deep into the guts of the one that came at him. He was about to finish the brute off, but then, he saw it. He saw him alive in the future, he saw that they were working toward the same goal. Nimbus leaned in, smirking. “Today is not the day you die” he said, and he teleported away. He teleported away to his Master, where the rest of the crew had already assembled. They were about to get out of dodge when a second crew showed up, this one heavily loaded with rune weapons. The second crew nearly wiped out all of the warriors, with Nimbus getting a glimpse of Nemesis winking at him as she teleported away with the goods. Nimbus escaped by the thinnest or magins, his crew destroyed, a wanted man on the continent. He finally made his way to Phase World, hoping to start over and make some real money. He promised himself that if he ever ran into Nemesis again, he would get his revenge.
Rinoa Crescent
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue Apr 09, 2019 7:47 am

Re: 00 - THE PURSUIT - Interlude Opportunity

Post by Rinoa Crescent »

Rinoa had a boyfriend, by the name of Squall. They had been partners during their time in the freedom fighter movement. After the cell from the movement she was involved with disbanded, The two of them went out into the universe to find something else to do. Squall was no slouch himself and they both became mercenaries.
Ragnarok
Ragnarokairship.png
Ragnarokairship.png (156.36 KiB) Viewed 8663 times
Rinoa and Squall eventually landed themselves a ship, the Ragnarok. They managed for gather a small crew, Quitis, Zell, Selphie, and Irvine. The six of them start working taking on mercenary contracts and eventually land themselves a contract with the Mekakur, to guard one of their ships.

Unfortunately for them, the contract was rather late in the making and put them some travel time out to reach where they needed to go. By the time they made it to the system, the Mekakur ship had already been missing for a week. They immediately contacted the Mekakur contact and let them know and then started to search for the missing ship.

After 3 weeks had passed, even though they gave weekly progress reports, they contract was ended as failure. They were allowed to keep the down payment but the completion portion was withheld. The Ragnarok made planet landing on Paradise and the crew took a few days to un-stress from the depression they now found themselves in.

After resupplying and the few days R&R they set out to look some more for the missing ship. They were determined to find it.

A few days of searching had turned up nothing. That is when they encountered another ship.

“Who is it?” Squall asked from the Captain chair.

Selphie was in the pilot seat, “Not sure. Squall, tt's the Pursuit!” She exclaimed

“Battle Stations.” Squall called out.

Zell sat in the co-pilot seat, “Damn it.”

Irvine was in the navigation/gunner seat, “On it, Boss.”

Quitis was in the comms seat, “All systems are looking good, Captain.” She said to Squall.

Rinoa looked over at Squall, “I should get ready.”

Squall looked back at her, “Be careful out there.”

Rinoa nodded as she held up her hand, “ I will be.” She turned and left the bridge. The ship was rocking from the battle going on as she made her way to the robot hanger. Putting on her helmet, she got into Angelo, her kittani transformable robot armor.

Rinoa radioed the bridge, “All ready down here.” The ship shoke some more.

Quitis radioed back, “Opening the hanger now. Good luck out there.” The hanger doors opened and Angelo launched into space.

The battle was not going well for the Ragnarok, the Pursuit had the upper hand and had gotten behind them. Rinoa did her best to provide support but she had gotten away from the ship.

Bam! The Pursuit got a good hit in on the Ragnarok.

Over the radio, “Rinoa, get back here, now!”

Rinoa replied back, “I'll need some time, I'm too far out.”

Squall replied back on the radio, “I'm sorry.” The Ragnarok engaged it's light speed engines. A few moments later, it speed off.

“Damn it Squall! We're through.” Rinoa quickly scanned the area for a place to hide. Her scanners showed up a nearby asteroid belt. Switching to fighter mode, she started flying for it as fast as she could with the Pursuit hot on her heels. She managed to stay ahead of them, and made it into the asteroid belt. Alluding them, they gave up after some time had passed, likely they had a more pressing issue to attend too.
This isn't good, I need to figure out where to go before I die out here. Rinoa thought to herself.

After she was sure the coast was clear, she made her way out into open space to find someplace to go.

Maybe a ship will find me.
Status Tracker
Rinoa Cresent

Wounds: 0 / 3 ; Fatigue: 0 / 2 ; ISP: 20 / 10
Bennies: 2 / 3
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d8, Spirit d8, Strength d4, Vigor d6
Pace: d6 ; Parry: 8 ; Toughness: 9 (4)

Skill of Note: Shooting d12+2 (Wild Die d10)
  • Ace: Add +2 to Pilot, Drive and Boating Skills
  • Combat Ace: May use 1 extra weapon system before MAP penalties.
  • AB: Psionic (with Master and Major Psionic)
  • Elan: +2 when using a benny
    • Boost/Lower Trait (PPE: 2)
    • Clairvoyance
    • Telepathy
    • Professional, Expert, Master in Shooting.
Angelo (Kittani Transformable Robot Fighter)
Robot Armor Notes
  • (*): Numbers in () are while telemechanics is active, these are replacement, not additive.
  • (**): 6 AP from ballistic weapons except rail guns are negated.
Attributes: Strength d12+3
Pace: 20(2d6 MAP) ; Parry: 9(10*) ; Toughness: 21 (8**)
Melee Skill: Fighting d12
Soak Skill: Piloting d12+2(4*)
Weapon System skill: Shooting d12+2 (Wild Die d10)
Other Bonuses
  • Sensors: +2 on Notice Checks
    Targeting System: offset -2 shooting penalties
  • Always considered armed
  • Cannot use Combat Edges in Robot Armor
Weapon Systems
  • 2 x Pulse Cannons (Fixed Vehicle Medium Ion Weapon)
    • Range: 40/80/160
    • Damage: 4d8
    • ROF: 1
    • AP: 4
    • Shots: Unlimited
    • Note: MBT
  • 2 x Mini-Missile Launchers
    • Range: 100/200/400
    • Damage: 5d6
    • ROF: 1
    • AP: 6
    • Shots: 12
  • Dual Linked Light Laser Turret (head mounted)
    • Range: 150/300/600
    • Damage: 2d10+2
    • ROF: 1
    • AP: 5
    • Shots: unlimited
    • Notes: +1 to Hit due to Linked
  • Forearm Energy Blade (2)
    • Range: Melee
    • Damage: STR + d12+1
    • AP: 4
    • Notes: Mega Damage, Built into each forearm.
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