"I thought you were cute and it was worth it." Emmanuel shoots.
Say the above.
[10] She blushes, rubbing awkwardly at her forearms, before offering, hesitantly,
"Uh...your kinda cute...too...Got a name? Besides Poker?" [3] Then she blinks, once, before turning and lunging for the pipe, snatching it up dexterously and rolling away, swinging it around an arc to try and bash your brains out.
[10 vs 7] You duck under it, reaching up to grab it mid-swing and throw it to one side, all in one, fluid motion.
[9] She backs away then, but doesn't run, watching you with wide eyes and raising her hands into fists to guard herself.
Freeze myself before I die of this plague. My people should remain loyal to my frozen corpse for a few months before finding a new king.
In that time, they will spare no expense finding a cure. By any means necessary.
Post something to the Interfeed, looking for anyone who knows about these Atlaca.
Take the staff of the medical ship as well, have them work on a cure. Kill them if they refuse/fail.
[4] You enter a makeshift cyro-pod, slipping into a deep sleep. A tentacle grows from your arm-stump while your asleep, barbs, spikes and claws forming at the end as it twists and writhes on your shoulder, scales slowly forming...
[2-5+1]The search for a cure fails, the genes replicating, mutating too fast to find an antidote for, making it simply impossible to cure, despite the best chemists working over-time to produce something, anything to fix you.
[?] Your post in the Interfeed is deleted the moment it arrives, censored by someone who doesn't want others to hear.
[8-5] They fail, miserably, and are summarily executed in turn, the final scientist makes a breakthrough, but dies of starvation before he can finish whatever he was working on.
[8 =/= 10]
[10] When you awake, you notice the power-cord to your cryopod has been severed, and are surprised to notice that...well, you can 'see' again, a thick tentacle still hangs from your shoulder, but it writhes and moves to your will, instead of one of it's own.
The lights flicker on and off, and your ship is deadly silent.
Head with the other Party governors and dignitaries to the council at Voandrath.
[10] Your party welcomes you to the before-election meeting and gifting with a bottle of rare New Lunar's Italy Brandy, a very expensive and very hard to find brand, considering the Distillery was crushed by a meteor.
[2] But others who don't belong to your political party shoot you dirty looks and mutter to their friends and allies.
"I hardly see how her chances were ruined, as the material does not count for a legal disqualification from the elections. Damaged, I can see due to the sociological impact of such material released, even if I don't understand the base motives behind it."
Attempt to get a private meeting going with Maxwell Hayes.
"It's quite silly...but the 'people' expect decorum or some such nonsense. By the way, I was wondering if I c-"Then the large man in a jagged crown interrupts, Maxwell's grin grows a little, but he nods politely, gesturing to a wooden door.
[10]
"Excuse me, Prime. We'll have to speak later..." At the private meeting"How can I help you, High King?"