It seems as though while the others were boarding the raiders ship much earlier, that Cyril had procured himself a vast amount of the other passenger's airline peanuts. As indicated by the fact that a few go flying in the air as the mech tears the Halaisi and the raider's ship apart. The good news was he still had many bags of peanuts left! The bad news is the other passengers had none!
Upon hearing “EXIT THE VEHICLE IMMEDIATELY.” from the mighty mech. He raised his right eyebrow in a controlled state of anxiety.
He stands up immediately and grabs his bag from the overhead compartment and slings it over his shoulder, in order so he can raise his hands in surrender upon exiting the Halaisi .
Upon following the others, he is seen glancing around admiring the various weaponry and gadgetry of the Enthilores . It doesn't seem like he normally would act this way, just that he has resigned himself to the fact that its likely him and his fellow Halaisians are likely to die , and instead of dwelling on that would focus on the efficiency of these apparent state-sponsored terrorists.
OOC: I'm really doing any analyzing just admiring so no rolly.
For a moment, everyone just stood upon the loading platform in mute obedience. Occasionally the mech would look towards them, and then flash its viewing lenses for no apparent reason.
The soldiers and their squadron leader appeared to be in heated conversation back at the airlock. Eventually the officer shrugged and made a few complicated hand motions, and a handful of their men saluted and dashed into the Halaisi. Another sauntered over to the platform, and jabbed at its control pad as if it wronged him personally.
“You can go in ahead of your little friends,” he says. “Feel free to jump off, it’ll cut down on the paper work.” With that, he chuckles, and the platform rapidly rises off the ground.
“Don’t piss off the officer,” he yells as the group ascends, “she’ll fuck you up!”
Soon it reaches a height where even the Warlock mech looks like a child’s toy- albeit one most parents would confiscate. The platform is surprisingly swift, no doubt because its designers originally intended it to transport far heavier cargoes than mere people.
The tower’s concrete walls begin to give way to tapering, ornate glass, and the platform begins approaching this spire at the building’s peak. Homing in on an opening, it docks with a wide balcony, sprouting crab-like pincers and affixing itself to the wall. It then inclines itself, as if the group were mere boxes, forcing them to step off or risk tripping up. Its duties fulfilled, the platform breaks away from the balcony and returns to the landing pad, its basic engine humming all the while.
The group find themselves in a large, circular room with a tiled floor and a variety of expensive (but old) sofas. In its very centre there’s a solid-looking glass tube that’s ringed with metal and looks to extend well beyond the tower itself: through the transparent ceiling, it’s possible to see it curve away through the clouds, no doubt linking this building to one of the even bigger structures at Enthilore’s centre.
As if on cue- and no doubt this was well timed- a simplistic elevator smoothly descends, leaving a well-dressed woman standing in the cylinder. She’s wearing a slightly disturbing smile and the garb of a High Councillor: despite the office implied by the exquisite robes, she can’t be more than a century old.
I need everyone to give me a Willpower check (with Psi Defence if you have it), please, either spoilered in an IC post (if you want to make one) or just in the OOC as usual.
As Dustin sees this well-dressed woman standing there, he's reminded of his boss. He thinks back to one day, many years ago when they had to team up to 'recover' a fairly large cache of research data that had gone missing and was sold to an up-and-coming rival corporation.
It was probably a bit of a stretch to expect loyalty from people acquired as they were. His boss gave a little 'psionic' tug on several desires of theirs. Sex, money and fear: the universal sales pitches. She wasn't exactly happy when they jumped ship.
Discretely, she tracked them down to the safehouse they would be kept in before they got off world. A large beach house, white sand and turquoise water. They slaughtered the rival company's spokesperson, and their guard contingent. The two herded the researchers out to see the sun set for the last time.
It was a beautiful, cloudless day, with a wondrous breeze. Even covered with blood-soaked sand, she smiled, that same smile.
Nothing ever came of their research anyway Dustin thought, as the woman made her entrance. Dustin smiled a bit... lost in his memories, his guard was somewhat down.
Her smile widens. “Well… you’re an interesting bunch, aren’t you? For a moment I thought Duality knew what was going on, but no, it’s a wonderful coincidence. There’s no way they’d have knowingly had you two-” she languidly gestures at both Dustin and Stephen- “co-operate on a mission. Certainly wouldn’t have knowingly posted you both on a ship with a SHARD operative.
“And the little analyst… my god, you must have more skeletons in your cupboard than our little Duality lackeys. If I ever have more time, I’d love to dig around in there- but I know one thing for certain, the Legion wouldn’t send you here deliberately.
“Not to say that you’re not interesting,” she adds, turning back to Dustin. “You’ll have to let me know whether you’ve got a major psychiatric disorder or if you’re just a very fine operative. People don’t usually ‘get’ you, do they?
“Oh, and this psychic tagging along with you- he’s not worth much, is he? I’ve seen children put up more resistance.” She gives Terrence a wink. “Must try harder. I know you can.”
She doesn’t mention Cutter. Trying to force her way into Cutter’s mind had been an exercise in futility- it had been like breaching a high-security penthouse, only to find that someone had built a small castle inside the building to house all the best property.
“Well, I’d say you’re harmless enough. You’re all free to go. I’d get off the planet ASAP, because the Foundation will come down very hard if you make trouble. I’d hate to see anything nasty happen to you all.”
Terrence, Stephen
Due to your respective abilities/equipment, you’re privy to the amount of mental energy the officer has at her disposal.
Most of the people that 'got' Dustin were either dead now or worked with him.
"Well now... I don't know if you just insulted me or praised me, hm." Dustin says, as he brings his steepled hands up to his face. He then tilts his head to the side slightly, looking at the woman carefully. Judging by what she said to Terrence and what he slightly felt, she was another psionor. But was she armed?
"Tch, I highly doubt that our ride here is going to be lifting off the ground anytime soon. Not that it matters much at this point given my business deal has no doubt fallen through by now. Punctuality and formality were important things, ne?" Dustin says with a sigh.
tastydonuts on
“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
"Well, that's hardly my problem, is it? You should take it up with the company who owns that ramshackle ship, you corporate types are good at complaining. If you wait here long enough I'm sure someone will send up another platform and take you back to ground level."
"Keh." Dustin opens his hands and takes two steps to his left. He looks up and out of the ceiling. The clouds were rather beautiful, he thought. He takes a deep breath.
"How about a meal, ne?" He says. "As we are currently your..." Prisoners? is the first word that comes to mind. "guests here, I'm sure that'd be a great, friendly gesture. Need I remind you that we were attacked by some group of raiders as you so warmly took us in, see?"
tastydonuts on
“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
Terrence is embarrassed and disappointed at his weakness. The shock of landing and seeing that great hulking mech really did a number on him. His mind was an open book to the High Councillor or whatever she was. She's obviously a powerful psychic though. Though his defenses were down anyway, she burst in to his head like a Domarian battleship.
Mercifully, she doesn't seem that interested in him, or any of his fellow passengers. He is still surprised to hear her say that they can go, partly because there doesn't seem to be any real way to leave.
Dustin, in his inimitable fashion, is the first one to start talking. He mentions the raiders, and she suddenly shows more interest.
"There was a Gef, yes." Terrence says. "I don't know what you consider 'augmentation' but it did have a great big gun instead of a hand. Their shuttle should still be wherever your mech dropped it, so if you want to know more, that's as good a place as any to start."
He considers asking more about how the raiders are able to operate from the surface, but thinks better of it.
Watching her, Dustin muses on how even psionics can betray their intentions by their body language and voice. He could read people too, but just in a different way. It was part of the reason that his boss didn't simply add a new hole to his head back on that fateful day when he earned his transfer to his current position.
"Yea. What he said." Dustin looks at her. He really wants to eat right about now.
"I said they shouldn't have a Warlock on boarding duty. If that thing has destroyed evidence I'll... I'll..."
She changes the subject.
"You killed these raiders, I assume? Did they... did they say anything?"
Dustin
Now she's starting to fake her confidence. That smug smile comes across as forced, and she was clearly nervous about those particular raiders.
As for trailing off about the Warlock, she must have realised that there was very little she could do to a psi-immune killing machine- or, presumably, the people in charge of it.
"They all went down pretty quickly. We took them by surprise." Terrence lets a bit of smugness enter his voice. I'm not completely useless.
"But tell me," he can't help himself and the question bursts out, "how come you didn't just make the security forces leave that mech behind? I get the feeling you can be pretty persuasive when you have to be."
Dustin smirks, and begins to walk around the room, admiring the clouds even more. Most of his time was spent in space, between worlds, and the time he spent on planet he was either in a closed room talking to someone or too busy trying not to die to really enjoy the scenery of the many planets he'd been to.
He wondered how confident she thought she was coming off as being. Maybe in some respects being a psionic was somewhat of a crutch. As he listens to Terrence speak, he sees it all the more. It was almost pitiable.
When he gets close to the woman, and slightly behind her, he stops moving. There's no threatening intentions behind his actions, and Dustin is fairly confident she would pick up on such things. He's also fairly certain that the clouds are probably hiding more than enough hardware to kill him and everybody else before he could even make a move.
tastydonuts on
“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
Alliah is fishing around in her bag for some time before she pulls out the various manifests and records from the raiders' shuttle. At least, most of them.
"- we found these on their vessel. They're a fairly incomplete record of the ships they've been hitting and looting for some time."
Having Dustin stand behind her unnerves the officer, though she tries her best not to show it.
Terrence's question strikes a chord- so forcibly, in fact, that she chooses to ignore it. She's visibly flushed now. She has a hand raised, ready to send her zooming back to her little safe haven, when Alliah produces her paperwork.
The officer abandons all pretence of calm.
“You actually have records of…? Give them to me right n- oh, hell.†She smacks her palm against the glass of her elevator’s impassable duct. Never before has a presiding officer ever felt the need to leave it and physically interact with their interviewees.
“Stay right there. I mean... not that you can’t. Don’t go jumping out the window or anything!†She pinches a stud on her fine collar and speaks into it. “Immel? This is Cailyl. Send a damn Videl to room eight of my tower. No, right now. No, just get one over here. No, I… I swear to god, Immel, have one here in three minutes or I’ll fry your brain.â€
She looks up at the group again and tries to regain her composure. “All right. Calm. I’m calm. Just stay here and board the Videl when it arrives. I’ll meet you at the Spire to talk to you in person.†She’s actually shaking.
The elevator hums, and whisks her away in the blink of an eye.
You can give me an Intelligence check to know what a Videl is, if anyone wants to.
A Videl is a powerful, expensive war cruiser manufactured by Duality Corporation. They're capable of space travel, but they're also deployed as heavily armoured bombers and troop transports. They're basically flying tanks.
Like the Warlock, a single-city society like Enthilore shouldn't be able to afford them...
Alliah
Alliah notes how this woman, Cailyl as she called herself, is resorting to a communicator to speak to her allies. Either she can't project when nervous- which is a frequent problem for psionors- or she's a short-ranged telepath, which would explain her immense mental abilities. It's clearly not out of respect for this Immel's privacy, who can't be higher-ranked than her considering her threats...
"Does this mean we get to eat, hm?" Dustin says in a nonchalant manner.
If he was annoyed or aggravated at Alliah, this wouldn't be the time to show it.
He makes a mental note in the Gibson of the woman's name: Cailyl. Somewhere along the line there would probably be a lot of 'adjustments' made in the department or division that allowed this much Duality Corporation tech to fall into the hands of this group.
tastydonuts on
“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
Dustin lets out a stream of words in another Dualist tongue, very quickly and sharp in tone at Alliah. His facial expression doesn't show anger at all. "Business, na?" he finishes with, and then frowns at her.
"You know, for a person of your... station you're not exactly smart, na." Dustin says, the tone he's taken seems as though he's talking to a child. "Do you intend to threaten the psionor with burning the documents, keh? What a ridiculous bluff."
But then again, Dustin wouldn't put it past someone from the council to destroy the documents in some kind of self-righteous, uppity display.
tastydonuts on
“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
"Hey now! Let's not be hasty. If a Videl really is on the way, I don't want the orders to change from 'pick them up' to 'shoot them'.
"There's very clearly something wrong here. A place like this shouldn't have half the tech these people are sporting, and what they do have should be dedicated to catching those other raiders." Terrence can't help but be sucked right in. He thought he had put his curiosity and investigator-persona to bed, but it had been stirring ever since the Halaisi failed its phaseshift and seeing Cailyl lose it so quickly finally jolts it awake. He is invested now. He can't leave until he gets to the bottom of this.
"And," he turns to Dustin, "you've a lot of nerve, lecturing someone on the risks of threatening psionors."
"And... you. What gives with you?" Dustin looks over at Terrence. "We're dealing with business here, and neither of you are remotely suited for the task of dealing with business so why don't you guys just spill what you know, and let me take it from here, ne? That's our tech."
He holds out his hands towards Alliah for the documents, and waits to see if they'll fill them in on what they knew.
tastydonuts on
“I used to draw, hard to admit that I used to draw...”
Cyril sighs and paces around the room seemingly ignoring his companion's conversation entirely, he turns to the women sent down to them asks very plainly
"Can we arrange our own way off this planet?.......Or is that not an OPTION?"
"Dustin, you have this terrible habit of mouthing off when people are virtually guaranteed to be watching. Did you not get enough attention as a child?
I'm so sorry that I forgot that psionors are obviously gods, and that they don't get weaker when they're nervous and distracted, and that they apparently read everybody's mind constantly, at the same time, without taking a break to do anything else."
"From a help file? Fish out of water, ne contractor?" He's useless. Dustin thought to himself. But he couldn't go it alone here. He takes a deep breath.
"Listen... both of you. This isn't your area. There isn't room to argue bout this either, ne. I happen to know the exact degree to which this room is bugged. It's in the training for my position. We don't send people like me gallivanting about the worlds without a little knowledge of how this business works. You didn't think I walked around the room for my health, hm?" He walks directly towards Alliah.
"The more time we waste here arguing over your pride and egos, the less time I have to see what we have to work with to get us the hell out of here intact. So please," shut the hell up and let me do my job... "let me skim these docs-- keh." It was too late.
They're not friendly. The three men inside the ship are trained killers, a far cry from the posturing amateurs who attacked the Halaisi.
And there's a fourth- another Gef. This one's just as intelligent- but its mind is far more open than the first he encountered. Psionic resilience is increased in Gef on average, but not always...
Unfortunately, what Terrence senses is that the Gef is feeling very happy, because he's carrying a very large weapon.
Everyone
The ship's field begins to fail as its side hatch opens, revealing a dark-coloured craft about thirty foot long, filling the entire balcony opening.
The door isn't even fully open before the harsh crackle of photon fire splits their ears...
...because the Gef has just lazily spun on his heel and hit one of his comrades with a point-blank burst. The luckless man's corpse flops from the ship's hatch in a bloodied heap.
Unsurprisingly, as the Gef blinks in amazement, wondering what the hell he just did, his comrades are similarly taken aback. They're left shocked and useless for a brief moment.
The Gibson kicks in, instantly, routing combat data to Dustin. Controlled bursts of adrenaline are distributed as needed as he kicks into combat mode. Without a thought he his hand goes into his suit and he slides Imogen onto his hand.
The woman's rifle finds itself in his hands as well, his motions taking him seamlessly into cover behind one of the more sturdy looking Sofas. The Gibson reminds him that the weight and kick of the rifle would probably sever the tendons of his wrist were he to try and focus the shots to mask Imogen's firing. If he wanted to fire it, its shot would be just as blind as the automatic's.
He let them rip, the barrage flying towards his target as he ducked back behind the sofa.
Terrence is elated to feel the command take, hear the sound of photon fire, and see a bloody body tumble out of the ship. He briefly regrets not bringing the more powerful pistol he had taken from the raider earlier. Then, recalling his abysmal accuracy, he decides it might be best to avoid shooting altogether.
The would-be ambushers are confused and off-balance. Terrence hears the sound of gunfire. His people are already taking their advantage. He shouts, "Don't shoot the Gef!" and hopes that they'll understand that the "yet" is implied. Turning his attention to the two human attackers, he tries to make their situation "clearer"...
Telepathy (Suggestion) Check "The Gef is a double-agent!": 1d20+6: 21 Oh man, if this only affects one of them...
Dustin's automatic fire pours off the ship like a cascade of sparkling water- well, maybe sparkling acidic water- but fails to so much as sting a single one of the attackers.
Imogen, perhaps feeling it's her chance to shine, sends out a beam and effortlessly sears through the first man's armour, but he retains his footing (and life). Alliah's odd-sounding pistol gives the second a nasty bruise, but fails to penetrate and cause lasting harm.
Result: Gef takes two normal damage and is pretty pissed off
One man appears unaffected, perhaps because he's distracted by the wound he recieved from Imogen.
The other turns to the Gef, roars something along the lines of "you traitorous fuck", and dives at the huge man, swinging his bayonet in an arc: the blade digs into the gap between the plates of the Gef's torso armour, causing him to grunt in pain and fall to one knee.
Stephen, though quite often full of things to say, had always prided himself in knowing roughly when to shut up. He was contented to watch and listen carefully as his shipmates and that damn Duality shill bickered with the officer and each other, with minimal audible scoffing. He was taken aback a bit by the officer's knowledge of his employment with Duality, more so that she expressed as such in the presence of the shill, and even more so at how unsurprised the shill seemed about it. Perhaps he was more focused on business at hand, but perhaps he knew more than he was letting on. He was considering asking the officer for a method of private conversation, but Alliah had to make a show of things. It was a minimal inconvenience, however, the officer assured a future chance for negotiation. He was worried, though. He could tell she was a psioner of no little ability, far above normal. He had little protection, and proximity would make bargaining with her all the harder. If she had the capability of finding out how much Duality would pay for him...
Meanwhile, Stephen found it harder and harder to avoid verbally assaulting the shill, though he continued to abstain. He didn't want the conversation that might have to follow.
Without warning, Alliah leaped behind a couch, covering herself from the window. The ridiculousness of such an action struck Stephen, but before he could remark, he caught sight of the uncloaking ship, and the armed men and photon fire within. Stephen dived behind a couch as well, flipping open his bag and arming himself with his stun-gun. Not having the time to lament the fact that the shill took all the good weapons, Stephen charged up his little self-defense pistol and took a shot.
Upon the officer's exit and hearing her response, Cyril hanged his head down and had turned away from the balcony and began to pace once more in contemplation. Caught up in thought Cyril reacted a few seconds later than the rest of the group upon hearing Terrence's yell; once he did he followed suit by diving for cover behind the sofa nearest to him.
In frantic pace, he quickly unzips his bag and removes the miniature hand cannon he had retrieved from the Gef raider the party had encountered earlier. Taking very little time to think, Cyril aimed and fired in the general direction of the Gef .
Posts
Upon hearing “EXIT THE VEHICLE IMMEDIATELY.” from the mighty mech. He raised his right eyebrow in a controlled state of anxiety.
He stands up immediately and grabs his bag from the overhead compartment and slings it over his shoulder, in order so he can raise his hands in surrender upon exiting the Halaisi .
Upon following the others, he is seen glancing around admiring the various weaponry and gadgetry of the Enthilores . It doesn't seem like he normally would act this way, just that he has resigned himself to the fact that its likely him and his fellow Halaisians are likely to die , and instead of dwelling on that would focus on the efficiency of these apparent state-sponsored terrorists.
For a moment, everyone just stood upon the loading platform in mute obedience. Occasionally the mech would look towards them, and then flash its viewing lenses for no apparent reason.
The soldiers and their squadron leader appeared to be in heated conversation back at the airlock. Eventually the officer shrugged and made a few complicated hand motions, and a handful of their men saluted and dashed into the Halaisi. Another sauntered over to the platform, and jabbed at its control pad as if it wronged him personally.
“You can go in ahead of your little friends,” he says. “Feel free to jump off, it’ll cut down on the paper work.” With that, he chuckles, and the platform rapidly rises off the ground.
“Don’t piss off the officer,” he yells as the group ascends, “she’ll fuck you up!”
Soon it reaches a height where even the Warlock mech looks like a child’s toy- albeit one most parents would confiscate. The platform is surprisingly swift, no doubt because its designers originally intended it to transport far heavier cargoes than mere people.
The tower’s concrete walls begin to give way to tapering, ornate glass, and the platform begins approaching this spire at the building’s peak. Homing in on an opening, it docks with a wide balcony, sprouting crab-like pincers and affixing itself to the wall. It then inclines itself, as if the group were mere boxes, forcing them to step off or risk tripping up. Its duties fulfilled, the platform breaks away from the balcony and returns to the landing pad, its basic engine humming all the while.
The group find themselves in a large, circular room with a tiled floor and a variety of expensive (but old) sofas. In its very centre there’s a solid-looking glass tube that’s ringed with metal and looks to extend well beyond the tower itself: through the transparent ceiling, it’s possible to see it curve away through the clouds, no doubt linking this building to one of the even bigger structures at Enthilore’s centre.
As if on cue- and no doubt this was well timed- a simplistic elevator smoothly descends, leaving a well-dressed woman standing in the cylinder. She’s wearing a slightly disturbing smile and the garb of a High Councillor: despite the office implied by the exquisite robes, she can’t be more than a century old.
It was probably a bit of a stretch to expect loyalty from people acquired as they were. His boss gave a little 'psionic' tug on several desires of theirs. Sex, money and fear: the universal sales pitches. She wasn't exactly happy when they jumped ship.
Discretely, she tracked them down to the safehouse they would be kept in before they got off world. A large beach house, white sand and turquoise water. They slaughtered the rival company's spokesperson, and their guard contingent. The two herded the researchers out to see the sun set for the last time.
It was a beautiful, cloudless day, with a wondrous breeze. Even covered with blood-soaked sand, she smiled, that same smile.
Nothing ever came of their research anyway Dustin thought, as the woman made her entrance. Dustin smiled a bit... lost in his memories, his guard was somewhat down.
Psi-Defense: 1d20+9 → [4,9] = (13)
Her smile widens. “Well… you’re an interesting bunch, aren’t you? For a moment I thought Duality knew what was going on, but no, it’s a wonderful coincidence. There’s no way they’d have knowingly had you two-” she languidly gestures at both Dustin and Stephen- “co-operate on a mission. Certainly wouldn’t have knowingly posted you both on a ship with a SHARD operative.
“And the little analyst… my god, you must have more skeletons in your cupboard than our little Duality lackeys. If I ever have more time, I’d love to dig around in there- but I know one thing for certain, the Legion wouldn’t send you here deliberately.
“Not to say that you’re not interesting,” she adds, turning back to Dustin. “You’ll have to let me know whether you’ve got a major psychiatric disorder or if you’re just a very fine operative. People don’t usually ‘get’ you, do they?
“Oh, and this psychic tagging along with you- he’s not worth much, is he? I’ve seen children put up more resistance.” She gives Terrence a wink. “Must try harder. I know you can.”
She doesn’t mention Cutter. Trying to force her way into Cutter’s mind had been an exercise in futility- it had been like breaching a high-security penthouse, only to find that someone had built a small castle inside the building to house all the best property.
“Well, I’d say you’re harmless enough. You’re all free to go. I’d get off the planet ASAP, because the Foundation will come down very hard if you make trouble. I’d hate to see anything nasty happen to you all.”
Terrence, Stephen
Mass Mind Reading: 1d20 +11 (27)
Yes, that’s a +11 bonus she has there. Yeesh.
"Well now... I don't know if you just insulted me or praised me, hm." Dustin says, as he brings his steepled hands up to his face. He then tilts his head to the side slightly, looking at the woman carefully. Judging by what she said to Terrence and what he slightly felt, she was another psionor. But was she armed?
"Tch, I highly doubt that our ride here is going to be lifting off the ground anytime soon. Not that it matters much at this point given my business deal has no doubt fallen through by now. Punctuality and formality were important things, ne?" Dustin says with a sigh.
"Well, that's hardly my problem, is it? You should take it up with the company who owns that ramshackle ship, you corporate types are good at complaining. If you wait here long enough I'm sure someone will send up another platform and take you back to ground level."
"How about a meal, ne?" He says. "As we are currently your..." Prisoners? is the first word that comes to mind. "guests here, I'm sure that'd be a great, friendly gesture. Need I remind you that we were attacked by some group of raiders as you so warmly took us in, see?"
Her smile freezes.
"Raiders? What sort of raiders? Are we talking backwards pirates here, or were they well equipped? Were..."
She pauses.
"Not to put too fine a point on it: did they have any Gef in their ranks? And if so, were these Gef bionically augmented in any way?"
Mercifully, she doesn't seem that interested in him, or any of his fellow passengers. He is still surprised to hear her say that they can go, partly because there doesn't seem to be any real way to leave.
Dustin, in his inimitable fashion, is the first one to start talking. He mentions the raiders, and she suddenly shows more interest.
"There was a Gef, yes." Terrence says. "I don't know what you consider 'augmentation' but it did have a great big gun instead of a hand. Their shuttle should still be wherever your mech dropped it, so if you want to know more, that's as good a place as any to start."
He considers asking more about how the raiders are able to operate from the surface, but thinks better of it.
"Yea. What he said." Dustin looks at her. He really wants to eat right about now.
Reading her body language with my silver tongue + int ;P: 1d20+8 → [12,8] = (20)
"I said they shouldn't have a Warlock on boarding duty. If that thing has destroyed evidence I'll... I'll..."
She changes the subject.
"You killed these raiders, I assume? Did they... did they say anything?"
Dustin
Now she's starting to fake her confidence. That smug smile comes across as forced, and she was clearly nervous about those particular raiders.
As for trailing off about the Warlock, she must have realised that there was very little she could do to a psi-immune killing machine- or, presumably, the people in charge of it.
"But tell me," he can't help himself and the question bursts out, "how come you didn't just make the security forces leave that mech behind? I get the feeling you can be pretty persuasive when you have to be."
He wondered how confident she thought she was coming off as being. Maybe in some respects being a psionic was somewhat of a crutch. As he listens to Terrence speak, he sees it all the more. It was almost pitiable.
When he gets close to the woman, and slightly behind her, he stops moving. There's no threatening intentions behind his actions, and Dustin is fairly confident she would pick up on such things. He's also fairly certain that the clouds are probably hiding more than enough hardware to kill him and everybody else before he could even make a move.
Alliah is fishing around in her bag for some time before she pulls out the various manifests and records from the raiders' shuttle. At least, most of them.
"- we found these on their vessel. They're a fairly incomplete record of the ships they've been hitting and looting for some time."
Having Dustin stand behind her unnerves the officer, though she tries her best not to show it.
Terrence's question strikes a chord- so forcibly, in fact, that she chooses to ignore it. She's visibly flushed now. She has a hand raised, ready to send her zooming back to her little safe haven, when Alliah produces her paperwork.
The officer abandons all pretence of calm.
“You actually have records of…? Give them to me right n- oh, hell.†She smacks her palm against the glass of her elevator’s impassable duct. Never before has a presiding officer ever felt the need to leave it and physically interact with their interviewees.
“Stay right there. I mean... not that you can’t. Don’t go jumping out the window or anything!†She pinches a stud on her fine collar and speaks into it. “Immel? This is Cailyl. Send a damn Videl to room eight of my tower. No, right now. No, just get one over here. No, I… I swear to god, Immel, have one here in three minutes or I’ll fry your brain.â€
She looks up at the group again and tries to regain her composure. “All right. Calm. I’m calm. Just stay here and board the Videl when it arrives. I’ll meet you at the Spire to talk to you in person.†She’s actually shaking.
The elevator hums, and whisks her away in the blink of an eye.
EDIT: That was fast.
Terrence's Intelligence check: 1d20+6 - 20
A Videl is a powerful, expensive war cruiser manufactured by Duality Corporation. They're capable of space travel, but they're also deployed as heavily armoured bombers and troop transports. They're basically flying tanks.
Like the Warlock, a single-city society like Enthilore shouldn't be able to afford them...
Alliah
Alliah notes how this woman, Cailyl as she called herself, is resorting to a communicator to speak to her allies. Either she can't project when nervous- which is a frequent problem for psionors- or she's a short-ranged telepath, which would explain her immense mental abilities. It's clearly not out of respect for this Immel's privacy, who can't be higher-ranked than her considering her threats...
If he was annoyed or aggravated at Alliah, this wouldn't be the time to show it.
He makes a mental note in the Gibson of the woman's name: Cailyl. Somewhere along the line there would probably be a lot of 'adjustments' made in the department or division that allowed this much Duality Corporation tech to fall into the hands of this group.
It's not like Alliah was planning on burning the records, but it wouldn't hurt to have the ability.
Dustin lets out a stream of words in another Dualist tongue, very quickly and sharp in tone at Alliah. His facial expression doesn't show anger at all. "Business, na?" he finishes with, and then frowns at her.
"You know, for a person of your... station you're not exactly smart, na." Dustin says, the tone he's taken seems as though he's talking to a child. "Do you intend to threaten the psionor with burning the documents, keh? What a ridiculous bluff."
But then again, Dustin wouldn't put it past someone from the council to destroy the documents in some kind of self-righteous, uppity display.
"There's very clearly something wrong here. A place like this shouldn't have half the tech these people are sporting, and what they do have should be dedicated to catching those other raiders." Terrence can't help but be sucked right in. He thought he had put his curiosity and investigator-persona to bed, but it had been stirring ever since the Halaisi failed its phaseshift and seeing Cailyl lose it so quickly finally jolts it awake. He is invested now. He can't leave until he gets to the bottom of this.
"And," he turns to Dustin, "you've a lot of nerve, lecturing someone on the risks of threatening psionors."
He holds out his hands towards Alliah for the documents, and waits to see if they'll fill them in on what they knew.
"Can we arrange our own way off this planet?.......Or is that not an OPTION?"
Cyril
"Oh, it's an option," she says distractedly. "Don't expect anyone to co-operate- unless you can find an intact embassy."
"Dustin, you have this terrible habit of mouthing off when people are virtually guaranteed to be watching. Did you not get enough attention as a child?
I'm so sorry that I forgot that psionors are obviously gods, and that they don't get weaker when they're nervous and distracted, and that they apparently read everybody's mind constantly, at the same time, without taking a break to do anything else."
There was a very slight gust of wind, and a suggestion of movement from the opening at the balcony.
"Listen... both of you. This isn't your area. There isn't room to argue bout this either, ne. I happen to know the exact degree to which this room is bugged. It's in the training for my position. We don't send people like me gallivanting about the worlds without a little knowledge of how this business works. You didn't think I walked around the room for my health, hm?" He walks directly towards Alliah.
"The more time we waste here arguing over your pride and egos, the less time I have to see what we have to work with to get us the hell out of here intact. So please," shut the hell up and let me do my job... "let me skim these docs-- keh." It was too late.
Sense check: 1d20+7 → [4,7] = (11)
He's obviously wasting his energy trying to get you guys to cooperate.
It had been a shimmer of light, and the breeze is too gentle to drown out the hum of even a stealth-modified engine.
The room was bugged, all right, but not necessarily by the Enthilore Foundation.
Videl cruisers didn't have cloaking devices. This was a different, smaller ship drifting towards the balcony.
Of course, if the ship is friendly, she may look a little foolish.
But who is my enemy? He may not know now, but he's about to try and find out.
They're not friendly. The three men inside the ship are trained killers, a far cry from the posturing amateurs who attacked the Halaisi.
And there's a fourth- another Gef. This one's just as intelligent- but its mind is far more open than the first he encountered. Psionic resilience is increased in Gef on average, but not always...
Unfortunately, what Terrence senses is that the Gef is feeling very happy, because he's carrying a very large weapon.
Everyone
The ship's field begins to fail as its side hatch opens, revealing a dark-coloured craft about thirty foot long, filling the entire balcony opening.
The cloak drops not a second later. There's no time to prepare and he thrusts his will towards the weak-mided Gef.
Upon hearing this, Alliah pulls out her gun and charges it.
Gef's accuracy roll
Attacker's Health check vs Gef's attack: 7 vs DC30- Abject Failure
Result: 3 normal damage
Focus check for the other attackers to avoid being surprised: 11 (failed)
The door isn't even fully open before the harsh crackle of photon fire splits their ears...
...because the Gef has just lazily spun on his heel and hit one of his comrades with a point-blank burst. The luckless man's corpse flops from the ship's hatch in a bloodied heap.
Unsurprisingly, as the Gef blinks in amazement, wondering what the hell he just did, his comrades are similarly taken aback. They're left shocked and useless for a brief moment.
The woman's rifle finds itself in his hands as well, his motions taking him seamlessly into cover behind one of the more sturdy looking Sofas. The Gibson reminds him that the weight and kick of the rifle would probably sever the tendons of his wrist were he to try and focus the shots to mask Imogen's firing. If he wanted to fire it, its shot would be just as blind as the automatic's.
He let them rip, the barrage flying towards his target as he ducked back behind the sofa.
Imogen (Man 1), Rifle (Man 1), Rifle (Man 2), Rifle (Gef)
1d20 → [19] = (19)
1d20 → [2] = (2)
1d20 → [6] = (6)
1d20 → [3] = (3)
It should come to no surprise that I'll probably either 1) discard the rifle, 2) never use the automatic fire again.
She's not quite as slow, though.
The hatch just finishing its open cycle, Alliah cracks off a round from her little pistol.
FaKK!
The would-be ambushers are confused and off-balance. Terrence hears the sound of gunfire. His people are already taking their advantage. He shouts, "Don't shoot the Gef!" and hopes that they'll understand that the "yet" is implied. Turning his attention to the two human attackers, he tries to make their situation "clearer"...
Result: 1 normal damage
Health check versus Alliah's pistol (1d20+5=20) : Passed
Result: 1 temporary damage
Dustin's automatic fire pours off the ship like a cascade of sparkling water- well, maybe sparkling acidic water- but fails to so much as sting a single one of the attackers.
Imogen, perhaps feeling it's her chance to shine, sends out a beam and effortlessly sears through the first man's armour, but he retains his footing (and life). Alliah's odd-sounding pistol gives the second a nasty bruise, but fails to penetrate and cause lasting harm.
Terrence
Melee roll versus Gef (1d20+5=23)
Health check versus Affected Attacker (1d20+6=9) : 23 vs 9: Abject Failure
Result: Gef takes two normal damage and is pretty pissed off
One man appears unaffected, perhaps because he's distracted by the wound he recieved from Imogen.
The other turns to the Gef, roars something along the lines of "you traitorous fuck", and dives at the huge man, swinging his bayonet in an arc: the blade digs into the gap between the plates of the Gef's torso armour, causing him to grunt in pain and fall to one knee.
Meanwhile, Stephen found it harder and harder to avoid verbally assaulting the shill, though he continued to abstain. He didn't want the conversation that might have to follow.
Without warning, Alliah leaped behind a couch, covering herself from the window. The ridiculousness of such an action struck Stephen, but before he could remark, he caught sight of the uncloaking ship, and the armed men and photon fire within. Stephen dived behind a couch as well, flipping open his bag and arming himself with his stun-gun. Not having the time to lament the fact that the shill took all the good weapons, Stephen charged up his little self-defense pistol and took a shot.
In frantic pace, he quickly unzips his bag and removes the miniature hand cannon he had retrieved from the Gef raider the party had encountered earlier. Taking very little time to think, Cyril aimed and fired in the general direction of the Gef .