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[IC] Exigency - "Explosions... my only weakness... how... did you... know?"

EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
edited June 2009 in Critical Failures
exigencylogo2pu9.png

Political intrigue in a universe of weird technology weirder people and stompy robots making things explode in a politically intriguing manner

Also known as Exigency: The Obligatory Semi-Colon Subtitle

Experimental D20 Thread
Exigency OOC Thread


It's the far future- but not necessarily ours. Humanity has gone through the expected selection of wars and disasters to the extent that we can’t even remember exactly what happened.

As far as the people of the setting were concerned, there were Ancient times- when we spoke weird languages, used spears, and lived on a bunch of planets blissfully unaware of everyone else’s existence- and then the Common Era, when they all discovered phasedrives and began bumping into each other in the stars.

Then they learned about the Schism.

It became apparent that we’d all met before, all our worlds and cultures, but that something had put an end to the sprawling human empire- a prolonged event the peoples of the Common Era just called the Schism.

Pre-Schism humanity had been ridiculously technological, and even their dilapidated remnants put Common Era devices to shame.

And as if that wasn’t enough, mankind began finding Uclasion relics. Artefacts, millions of years old, which were blatantly the inspiration behind our pre-Schism findings. The Uclasions had been around 27-million years ago and then had all abruptly died or left the galaxy- so they couldn’t have been all that advanced, surely, if they’d let themselves go extinct.

But the mother of all relics was Ucelsia: the artifical, 3000-mile-diameter spacecraft the Uclasions had once called home. It was found by the Domarian Trade Organisation: and a few short years later the DTO had become the Domarian Legion and the sole superpower of Alpha Sector- that tiny shred of the galaxy that mankind had the nerve to refer to as “the galaxy”.

That’s because the Domarian Legion had found Maintonon: an ancient Uclasion Supercomputer determined to make his mark.

Maintonon obsessively plans and directs and prepares- because he predicted that it will happen again. There’s just one little problem: even he can’t remember what caused the original Schism…


Starring the conveniently competent passengers of a failing ship approaching an isolated world:

Ryadic as Cutter Greevus (Colonial Hardass)

Grid System as Terrence Oregon (Corporate Operative)

tastydonuts as Dustin Marvough (Corporate Spokesperson)

Zetetic Elench as Alliah Seddine (Disillusioned Ex-Council Analyst)

Egos as Cyril Mannoreth (SHARD Resource Allocation Agent)

AJAlkaline40 as Stephen Dawker (Corporate Neuroscientist)


The game is narrative-led and rules-light: this means no movement grid. It also means you're allowed to be more creative in combat and encounters, and it also means I'll be [strike]screwing around with the players[/strike] equally creative :)

Rolls will be made through Invisible Castle, but I reserve the right to make rolls myself if there's an unforseen delay and I require checks from absent players to continue. Either spoiler them in your IC posts, or put them up for viewing in the OOC, but make sure you make it apparent what you're checking for and which attributes/specialities are being tested.

As always... want to discuss turning on your teammates? Plan to use your psychic talents to get them to beat themselves to death with their own arm? Not sure what kind of DC that'd require? PM me!

For player reference: Current Party Aspects/Encounter Powers, List of Aspects/Encounter Powers

Edcrab on
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Posts

  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Terrence, Cyril

    "Sir, are you still there? Please return to your seat!"

    Now it was a different voice from behind the door, and it didn't take an empath to recognise their stress and agitation.

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  • Grid SystemGrid System Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Something is very clearly wrong. Not just in the obvious, "our-ship-is-broken" sense either.

    "No." Terrence says. "I'm not going anywhere until I have some answers."

    An idea begins to form in his head. He takes a quick, careful sweep of the cabin. Any security cameras could make things a bit more interesting.
    Spoiler:

  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Terrence

    Terrence detected a single, low-resolution microcamera in the housing of a light fixture in the ceiling's centre. There might be more, but if so, they eluded him for the moment. But would such a cheap craft even need anything more?

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  • EgosEgos God Hand Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Conveying mutual annoyance, Cyril smiles knowingly at Terrence.

    Talking to the voice in the cabin

    "Obviously we are being pulled in to the atmosphere and against that technology I'm not sure what you can do... so, what is your plan just to hide while they come in and ravage us ?"

    He nods his head side to side

    "Perfectly legitimate if thats the case, but you could be honest with us."

    XBL: Invisible Man PSN: Indrik
  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Cyril

    "Pretty much," mumbles one of the voices.

    "Shhh!" hisses another.

    "Would all passengers please return to their seats," said a fresh, far more confident crew member over the ship's speakers. "The situation is under control."


    "Crazy troublemaking spacers," the marshal mutters under his breath.

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  • RyadicRyadic Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    "Would all passengers please return to their seats," said a fresh, far more confident crew member over the ship's speakers. "The situation is under control."

    With this announcement Cutter opens his eye and looks around to see what's going on. He notices in the first class cabin two men standing at the door to the cockpit.

    Letting out a sigh, he stands up and makes his way over to the two men.

    He looks to Terrence, the talkative man he met earlier, and asks, "What's goin' on?"

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  • EgosEgos God Hand Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Cyril leans his head close to the door and essentially yells out "Thank you very much." -with his intonation making it obvious he is referring to the first voice that spoke earlier.

    He leans back against the door and turns to Terrence. "Obviously they aren't coming out..." he trails "And I don't think there is many point getting in there...". Cyril turns to Terrence and Cutter

    "Unless one of you happens to be an expert hacker capable of remotely disabling whatever mechanism is pulling our ship in."

    Cyril backs away from the door and it seems as though he starts to scan the remaining passengers looking for anyone who may have the credentials.

    XBL: Invisible Man PSN: Indrik
  • Grid SystemGrid System Registered User
    edited March 2008
    "I have a better idea. Cutter, do you see that camera up there? I need you to go stand between it and the marshal over there. You," Terrence points at Cyril, "stay here with me. Strength in numbers, right?"

    It's time to bluff. The tensions are high in the cockpit. All he needs to do is push one person a bit further and the fragile situation will crumble. Hopefully that'll get people out of the door. He concentrates before beginning to speak softly, just loud enough that someone right on the other side of the door can hear.

    "Now listen here, I've spoken to your man on the outside. We all know that the feedback loop or whatever was no accident. What you don't know is that one of the people in the cockpit is a plant. Your man wouldn't tell me who though. You need to get out of there now, before he attacks you and takes control of the ship!"
    Spoiler:

  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Terrence, Cyril, Cutter
    Spoiler:

    For a moment, nothing happens.

    Then the trio can just begin to make out a conversation from behind the door.


    Eventually the voices are raised to the point that the words are coherent:

    “You’ve only been with us a few months. If you ask me that’s real suspicious-”

    “What the hell are you talking about, you stupid boy-”


    Until finally, they’re screaming at each other:

    “You’re a plant! You’ve always been on my back, I knew you were trying to make me fail-”

    “Bullshit, she’s the plant, never heard of a stewardess who gets phase sick-”

    “Open the goddamn door!”

    “Don’t you even think about-”

    “I’m getting out of here before you show your true colours!”

    “What does that even mean?”


    Before the door was fully open, a dishevelled youth in a uniform squeezes through the gap and stumbles past, managing to trip over his own feet and ending up face-down between Cutter’s boots.

    The group are left facing the flushed crew in their tiny cabin: three orderlies, and a man and a woman who are presumably the pilot and co-pilot.

    “Whose idea was it to freak out the boy?” The woman asked, casting red-rimmed eyes over the trio. She was still seated and appeared to be the only crew member who was still calm and collected: hers was the voice that had been broadcast over the speaker system in an attempt to make the passengers return to their seats. “You must have fed him some real rubbish to make him react like that,” she continued.

    The boy in question- blatantly a lowly trainee of some description- gets to his feet, and then falls over again when he gets a good look at Cutter.

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  • RyadicRyadic Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    "These two," Cutter begins gesturing to Cyril and Terrance, "were up here knocking on the door. I assume to get some answers. I too would like some answers."

    He looks down at the trainee, whose face looks very flushed, and extends a hand to help him up. Without looking up, he says, "So they will ask their questions again, and you will answer."

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  • EgosEgos God Hand Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Cyril opens up his coat and briefly pulls out an identification card clearly associating him with SHARD. He doesn't hand it to any of the crew but tries to make it clear that he isn't merely a concerned crew member.


    He places the id back in his shirt pocket and says

    " If that means anything here.... But I'm guessing you people are aware that someone who hails from my neck of the woods may have some insight if you are having... technical difficulties."

    XBL: Invisible Man PSN: Indrik
  • Zetetic ElenchZetetic Elench Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Alliah looks up from pretending to read the table display. Was that a SHARD card that got pulled just now?

    How lucky she has a seat so near the cockpit.

    Alliah shoves her volumes into her bag and makes her way to the front of the phasecraft.

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  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Terrence, Cyril, Cutter, Alliah

    Cutter's request (and bulk) certainly makes an impact- the orderlies take a step back and try to look as unthreatening and as co-operative as possible, one of them going as far as hiding in a storage sconce. The pilot, however, doesn't bat an eyelid- until she spies Cyril's identification card.

    The co-pilot opens his mouth to speak, but the pilot elbows him with such force that his swivel chair ends up facing the opposite side of the cockpit.

    "You want to know what's going on?" The pilot rolls her eyes. "Well, we don't have the foggiest idea. I thought it was a tractor beam, but I've never seen one powerful enough to pull in an orbiting ship from a planet's surface, and I certainly don't have any idea why this Enthilore Foundation has any interest in us."

    "As I was about to say," the co-pilot interjected quickly, before she could get another word (or elbow) in, "the ship is being remotely controlled. What's odd is that the tractor beam seems to be fighting the autopilot- and yes," he continued stubbornly, matching his fellow pilot's venomous stare- "I say it's a tractor beam."

    "I don't see why this Foundation would use a tractor beam to resist their own remote control."

    "Who says it's them?" the co-pilot snapped back, as dramatically as he could manage.

    The pilot was about to respond, but then she sees Alliah approach and she settles for an irritated grunt instead. "Another one? What, has SHARD sent an entire squad? We purchased that Vigil contract specifically to avoid people like you causing trouble..."

    "I wish that hag would shut up already," the long-forgotten marshal muttered from his seat.

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  • tastydonutstastydonuts Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Listening to the commotion in the cockpit, I say to the Marshal in a sarcastic undertone.

    "And you were worried about me?"

    “I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everyone.”
    ― Bill Cosby
  • EgosEgos God Hand Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Cyril leans back against the cockpit entrance, his arms crossed. He turns to the co-pilot



    "So why the Enthilore Foundation transmission? You think we're dealing with raiders or something of that sort who are working under the guise of this being a politically motivated abduction?"

    XBL: Invisible Man PSN: Indrik
  • Zetetic ElenchZetetic Elench Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Alliah cuts in.

    "You know, the co-pilot here is right. If the tractor's fighting the autopilot, that means there's two different groups involved. That voice we heard, was that a broadcast or was it preprogrammed?"

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  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Terrence, Cyril, Cutter, Alliah

    "It sounded human to me," said the co-pilot, obviously delighted that someone agreed with his prognosis.

    "But that doesn't stop it being pre-recorded," the pilot added. She pointed at Cyril. "I think that man might be on to something. It might just be a sophisticated program, some kind of front for-"

    The Halaisi lurched, and a few of the older passengers nearly fell out of their seats. They clearly weren't going to have a positive impression of the travel firm if they ever got out of this.

    "I figured out where that tractor beam is coming from." The co-pilot swallowed. "There's another ship approaching us, and they're trying to dock..."


    He was interrupted by a louder, more urgent broadcast over the speakers.

    "This is the Enthilore Foundation.

    Please do not be alarmed, we are finding it difficult to direct your craft to one of our facilities.

    Please remain calm while we attempt t... discover the.... ue prior to... lighting ... find your nearest .... cer in order t... ins... regard... ...."




    The broadcast petered out, fading in favour of a harsher, lower-quality transmission with a lot of background noise.

    "To the civillian craft: maintain your position.

    We'll be paying you a visit, and you don't want to make us grouchy.

    Have all your possessions ready for collection and we'll go easy on you.

    Maybe."

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  • Zetetic ElenchZetetic Elench Registered User
    edited March 2008
    "How sweet. They're fighting over us."

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  • EgosEgos God Hand Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    "Raiders really should learn to be more eloquent; when civilians have the illusion they will stay alive if they will comply , they usually will -- otherwise.."


    Cyril says quietly to himself "Or maybe they enjoy the struggle..."

    He turns to the pilot and copilot and urgently asks

    "Are there any glass bottles or alcoholic beverages on board this craft? We can hand them out to the passengers, and if they are willing to use them against our attackers - it might serve enough of a diversion while our more capable members do there thing."

    Cyril glances over at Cutter and the marshal.

    XBL: Invisible Man PSN: Indrik
  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Terrence, Cyril, Cutter, Alliah

    The pilot sniffed at the suggestion. "I'm not sure I approve of giving them bottles as improvised arms."

    "At least a good drink will calm their nerves." The co-pilot grinned.

    "Actually we're a little short on alcohol," the head stewardess mentioned, pulling one of her co-workers out of the storage sconce he was huddling in. "Except for that bottle of 400-Year Gilded Lake that we reserved for Mr Dawker."

    "Oh yeah- that guy's a doctor or something, right? He'd be helpful. Hah, if anyone does cut themselves, he could patch them up-"

    "First of all," the pilot snapped, "I believe the man is actually a neuroscientist. Secondly, if we are going to be boarded, I'd want the civillians stowed away safely in the maintenance unit: it's well reinforced. The rest of you SHARD puppets- or whoever you work for- can feel free to risk your lives."

    "I can't help feeling you're all oddly calm about this," she continued. "Although as far as I can tell our passengers are either too stupid to care or too deaf to notice. I know you're in there somewhere marshal," she shouted through the door, "so get over here and earn your keep."

    "If there are raiders coming," the marshal said to no one in particular, "I hope to god they shoot her first. Ladies and gentlemen-" this part was more audible- "I can appreciate that you have questions- but please follow me to the rear of the ship. Thank you."

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  • AJAlkaline40AJAlkaline40 __BANNED USERS
    edited March 2008
    Occasionally, there are things that are insufferable. Being forced to book a public phasecraft for transit in order to keep a low profile can be managed. Tempering the nearby ceaseless yapping of a Duality corporate shill is only annoying. Having your craft fail a phase shift is only jarring, and hell, even being boarded and robbed by ruffians can be merely considered a major inconvenience if you're in the right mindset. Wasting a bottle of Gilded Lake, however? Insufferable.

    Stephen Dawker had been pretending to peruse a print out on recent developments in olfactory-modifying implants in his reserved row in the front of the craft. He was going to try to blend into the background until confronted by whatever force had halted their progress, then reveal himself and his stature with confidence that his name would be enough to ensure his own safety. He even imagined he might share the bottle of Gilded Lake with the bandits or pirates or slave-traders or whoever they may be as they discussed cordially whom to contact for ransom. However, the growing insecurity in his mind centered around that very fact, the other end of the transaction would probably end up being the Duality corporation, and once he was back in their hands his future would not be so agreeable.

    Regardless, when the cretins who had begun to crowd the front of the craft began talking about their own plans for Dawker's alcohol, he had finally become fed up with the situation.
    "You imbeciles are going to fight them off with bottles?" he cried as he jumped from his seat and pushed past the marshal into the cabin area. "You might as well throw your own crap at them, it'd suit you people just as well!"

    "And yes I am a neuroscientist, and I'm also an infinitely better doctor than any backwater M.D. you have crawling around on this piece of trash. Additionally, if you're all so keen on having your bodies riddled with holes that you actually plan to fight them, I'd suggest you come up with a more comprehensive plan than "break things over their heads"," he poured forth in a demanding tone. He then turned to the rest of the passengers hurrying to the back and yelled, "Which of you ingrates happens to be carrying conventional weapons? And no, your in-flight beverage doesn't count!"

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  • RyadicRyadic Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    This is shaping up to be a fun trip after all.

    Cutter turns his back on the cockpit and makes his way back to his seat to get his belongings. Having a feeling that he will need them. Once he gets to his seat he notices the sick man that was next to him isn't there anymore. Discarding the useless knowledge from his head, he opens the overhead compartment and grabs his pouch and re-attaches it to his belt on his right hip.. He then opens it and removes a pistol which is in a holster. He attaches the holster to his belt on his left hip. He then checks his boot near his ankle and is sastisfied to still feel his knife there. He reaches again up to compartment and removes, what he likes to call, his "bat". Essential an over sized maul, the "bat" is a weapon that few men can use. Weighing 45 pounds, it's weight is one that not many can lift with ease let alone use it as a weapon. It was custom made for Cutter. It's length, at five foot six inches, is just a foot less than Cutters height. It is Cutter's most cherished possession.

    Strapping the "bat" to the custom made holster on his back, he makes his way back towards the cockpit. He notices some of glances at his new "friend" poking out over the top of his head. He stops at the doorway and asks, "So what's the plan, th-" He is cut off by the outburst of the doctor.
    Spoiler:

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  • EgosEgos God Hand Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Cyril leans back and smiles almost mockingly at the neurosurgeon that just waltzed into the cockpit..


    "Making makeshift weapons out of broken glass for civilians hardly seems like a bad idea for a distraction when we have big guys like him on board ."

    Cyril points to Cutter

    XBL: Invisible Man PSN: Indrik
  • tastydonutstastydonuts Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    As Cutter walks by, I say to my dear seatmate, who lets out a squeak. "That's an awful big weapon for fighting in close, hm? I can see this going pretty well."

    Casually, Dustin stands up and look over towards the Marshal. "Say... you going to do something about this? Your coachers are trying to play roles in "Live Easy" or something... no games here, ne?"

    Dustin then takes a closer look at the individuals up front, attempting to pull whatever information he can find about them via Gibson based off facial recognition, or ID signature.

    Spoiler:

    “I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everyone.”
    ― Bill Cosby
  • AJAlkaline40AJAlkaline40 __BANNED USERS
    edited March 2008
    Calming down from his initial ferocity, Stephen was caught off guard upon seeing Cutter. He stumbled a few steps backwards into an orderly he had been disregarding, but then cocked a smile. "Would you look at that, as if we needed further proof that this ship was full of neanderthals. Luckily we won't have to be content to fight them off with glass-wear, behemoth here has brought a big stick!"

    "Making makeshift weapons out of broken glass for civilians hardly seems like a bad idea for a distraction when we have big guys like him on board ."

    "Why go through the trouble of handing out the bottles? We could just hand this one a chandelier!" Stephen gestured to Cutter incredulously.

    "Though, on second thought, if you all really were so insane as to try to take this situation into your own hands, there might be hope for you yet." Stephen's hostile disposition began to melt away as he dug into pocket and produced his MediStat. He wondered if any of the other passengers might have some abilities to contribute that they might not have been immediately willing to share.
    Spoiler:

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  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Spoiler:

    The Halaisi shook again. It was becoming apparent that their attackers were closing the distance.

    All eyes- at least, those eyes that knew where to look- focused on the hulking great hatchway that was the small ship's only airlock.

    "Our scanner's picking them up now," the co-pilot announced. "Either they've got a scrambler unit, or someone else is jamming us- but they're minutes away from docking."

    "Which means we're minutes away from sealing this door and leaving you people to yourselves," the pilot said firmly. "Hebb? Either you can stay out there and gibber about Bob being a plant, or you can come back in here and not die."

    Unsurprisingly, the trainee decided to return to the relative safety of the cabin.

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  • tastydonutstastydonuts Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Dustin leans against his chair as the ship shakes. Noticing all the other passengers are safely stowed away, he sighs.

    "Hm. There any chance that I can borrow a gun from someone? I missed the trip to the back. I've always wanted to pretend to be a hero - should be fun, ne?"

    He pulls out an imaginary gun and points it around. "Pew! PEW! PEW!, na!"

    “I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everyone.”
    ― Bill Cosby
  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Dustin

    The marshal looks at him as if he's lost his mind. "What, isn't that 'Imogen' of yours good enough?"

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  • Grid SystemGrid System Registered User
    edited March 2008
    "You guys feel free to keep bickering, please. Maybe it'll confound and distract the raiders. I'm going to take cover at the back." Terrence reaches into his jacket and pulls out his small pistol. It's more of a noisemaker than a serious weapon, but it's helped him get out of a few scrapes before. "I'll try not to shoot any of you, but no promises."

  • tastydonutstastydonuts Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    "Old man..." Dustin frowned and put away his imaginary gun, then placed both his hands on the back of his head.

    Sure, Imogen was a gun, but a single shot could very easily punch a hole through his mark and into the ship's hull with its armor piercing rounds. That was a claim that the clunkers the others seemed to be brandishing couldn't make. It wasn't even a matter of missing, he felt. Plus, random pirates were hardly worth being embraced by Imogen's love.

    "Guess I'll just stand around and watch, or maybe use some bottles?" he rolls his eyes. "I'm sure you have a backup gun, you Marshals always do, see?"

    “I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everyone.”
    ― Bill Cosby
  • RyadicRyadic Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Cutter removes his pistol from its holster and offers it to Dustin.

    "I don't care for guns. I'm more comfortable swinging my 'bat'."

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  • tastydonutstastydonuts Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    "Thanks big guy!" Dustin takes the gun into his hand, allowing his grip to dip slightly, as if he were expecting it to be much lighter. It was a clunker all right. Ugly and inefficient. He examines it inquisitively, and feigning ignorance after a few moments of hesitation, he asks...

    "How do you turn this thing on?"

    “I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everyone.”
    ― Bill Cosby
  • RyadicRyadic Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    "Should be a switch on top," Cutter says. "I rarely use the thing, so I could be wrong."

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  • tastydonutstastydonuts Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Ugh. Maybe I should use Imogen after all Dustin thinks to himself as he eyes the switch on the top of the gun. Holding it in one hand, he flips it. The gun purrs to life as Dustin catches the all too familiar faint smell of burnt air. It's even got a physical trigger, oi ne...

    Holding the gun out with his finger clearly off the trigger he moves around while looking through its sight."Yer' goin down pardner!" he exclaims in a cheesy accent, as if this were some sort of old-fashioned vid show. "PEW! PEW! PEW!"

    "This'll be just like the time these guys tried to rob my friends' flat! We really showed them! PEW! PEW!" It wasn't truly a lie. The guys in this story were hired mercenaries, and his friend was a potential researcher. Dustin's boss hired the goons to attack the researcher while Dustin was there. The mercs were to use weapons that were conveniently defective, and the property of a rival company. Naturally, he would be safer in the fold.

    As he moved the gun around making shooting sounds, the Gibson added the gun's profile and traits into its assisted aiming protocol. He would have to do without recoil compensation (OCC: if any), and he set his HUD's profile to assume it was 6 rounds. He checked his tracker wetware to verify it was working just fine, and a slight overlay of the most likely layout of the ship hopped into his HUD. It would have been lovely to have been able to patch into the ship's security readouts to track the positions of everyone, but he didn't have the support for such things, and he surely wasn't going to play his hand and ask about such things.

    "Man. They don't know what they're in for, right big guy?" Dustin grins excitedly, almost childlike.

    "OH wait! Shouldn't we all move into some kinda positions and take cover and all? Like that one vid with the guys... you know... I mean, we're all just standing around! I'll wait in the back, see!"

    “I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everyone.”
    ― Bill Cosby
  • Zetetic ElenchZetetic Elench Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Alliah, along with half the cabin crew, stares at the demented madman pinwheeling around with a gun. In an unarmoured phasecraft. In space.

    Oh god. We're screwed.

    She turns to the co-pilot, who can't seem to take his eyes off of Dustin.

    "Maybe we should think about setting up a barricade. We've got a minute or two to throw all the luggage we can against the airlock."

    Alliah rummages in her own pack and pulls out a small, sad-looking photon pistol. She clicks the safety off and there is a faintly audible hum.

    nemosig.png
  • RyadicRyadic Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    "No!" Cutter says firmly. "Blocking the airlock with luggage is not a good idea. We do not know who these people are or what they want. Chances are they will expect little resistance if any. This is, afterall, a civilian ship. If the airlock is blocked, they will be alerted and become more hostile. We want to surprise them with an ambush." He has a look on his face that clearly gets the message accross that we have no time to argue and must act now.

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  • tastydonutstastydonuts Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    "Oh man. I gotta record this!" Dustin says as he pulls out his little PDA and then straps it onto his hand. The Gibson registers and primes Imogen, just in case.

    "So Dustin, why didn't you make the signing?" He says, in a pitch that horribly resembles a female's voice. "Well ma'am, I was saving my civilian craft against some raiders after it broke down! And I got it on vid, see! Was I crazy? Na, headlines alone made it worth the risk!"

    He then pumps his arm into the air, and takes up a defensive position behind some seats, getting into a position that one would see in a vid show. It always amazed Dustin how this was the one thing they got right. Ideally the raiders would be using "ship-safe" weaponry, which meant his chair could maybe take a few hits. As the Gibson adjusted his body's chemical balance for combat, his vision blurred and then focused with newfound clarity.

    A song popped into his head, and he began to hum it as he waited.

    “I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everyone.”
    ― Bill Cosby
  • RyadicRyadic Registered User regular
    edited March 2008
    Looking to the pilot, Cutter asks, "So how does the airlock open? Do you have to open it so they will have to use tools to break through? Or is there a way to open it from the outside?"

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  • Grid SystemGrid System Registered User
    edited March 2008
    From behind the meagre cover afforded by the coach seats Terrence watches the one-man show. It's the same guy who had been exchanging words with the marshal earlier. It's more than a little terrifying to think that that guy is the second most sensible person here.

    Where's Cutter? he wonders.

    "Psst!" He tries to get the other man's attention. "Hey, you! The big fellow, Cutter, where is he?"

  • EdcrabEdcrab Registered User
    edited March 2008
    Cutter

    "I'm assuming they're going to force the airlock somehow," the pilot said dismissively. "A linkbreaker or similar device to destroy the magnetic seal without damaging the ship."

    "Or they'll just hack our computer-" began the co-pilot.

    "Either way," the pilot continued, "we'll be closing this door now."

    "Good luck," said the co-pilot. "Honest to god, she might think you're a bunch of crazy idiot civs, but I-"

    "SHARD members aren't really civillians, Troy. It'll be their own damn fault."

    The door quickly slid shut, with echoing finality.

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