Exist
[5+1+1] The alien woman works, removing the barbed, twitching bullet from Haye's chest with the tips of her fingers, ripping rags from her clothes to stem the sudden gush of blood. Her hands shake, even though her movements are deft and fast.
[9] However, as she mops away the blood, you catch sight of something shiny within Haye's chest, ringed with wiring.
Arthur wasted no time in organising the gathered security and bodyguards to flank the assassin while the car supresses him with machine gun.
[9] The security guards ring the Assassin, who makes a break for it, despite the aforementioned ring of burly, armed men and women.
[1] The hover-car, fires, not aiming to scare the assassin, no aiming straight for his head and torso. The chain-gun rips through the soft flesh of the man, reducing his fatigues to rags and his body to so much ground meat.
[2] With that bloody business done, the hover-car aims the chaingun on the security forces, and a mechanized voice speaks, tauntingly, giving a hoarse chuckle,
"You're all under arrest. You have the right to be turned into mincemeat."
*Patch up my injuries.
Check to see if the coast is clear.
If it is, make a run for it- looking for chemical storage.
If it isn't, fill a sack with catfood, vinegar, and whatever else in here stinks enough to distract a mutant. Leave the chain gun (too heavy), throw the sack as far away as possible, and run in the opposite direction.
[4] You do a rather crappy job of patching your wounds, the vinegar doing more harm then good as pain rickets through the arm every time you flex your fingers.
[3] Outside the door is a single mutant, shell-less like the other, tentacles having replaced it's arms, it sniffs the air, long, forked tongue flickering in and out of it's mouth.
[5] You fill a plastic sack with a number of stinky food products and local chemicals, and it takes you only a moment to stab a hole in it and throw it down the corridor.
[5] It takes a moment, but two Mutants step out of the shadows and trundle down the corridor, followed by the other, the one that would have baited you.
[4 vs 2] You step out, and begin bolting down the corridor as silently as you can, the mutants too busy scarfing down and fighting over the bag of food.
[2] However, you soon get lost as you try to avoid the worst of the mutants, it takes you a long time, and you trip over a number of things, but [8] you finally find a chemical storage room, in your ship.
[9] There's more chemicals than you know what to do with here, including a few that you know makes things blow up.
Send out a distress signal, in the form of a youthful and feminine, and clearly human, voice indicating that a small-party vessel has been stranded at the station following a D:13 jump. Then promptly power down all unnecessary electronics in the station (effectively running on skeleton power), and have the Drones lie in wait conspicuosly placed in or near the docking bay.
Ie. Set the trap.
[5] There's a long wait the signal well...signalling, before scanners detect a ship moving in from the outer orbit of the system, trackers indicating it's heading for you station. [9] Scanners, on the other hand, note that it's a Tourist Luxury Ship, large, lumberous and filled to the brim with squishy humans. [2+1] You try to power down almost everything, but it's too late, the ship having already docked, but despite the fact that the lighting is on and such, [4+1] The people don't seem to notice, overconfident about the crew being able to take on any pirates.
[1 vs 1] Your ambush fails, the drones coming out of hiding too soon to be of any use in the element of surprise. A firefight starts up, the crew rifles firing on the drones as they hold the hallway to the ship bravely.
[4 vs 2] But resistance is squished, the armed and armored crew dying to chainsaws and electrical shocks from the drones, your drones.
[~] The tourists soon surrender after a declaration of 'Surrender or Die like the crew.'
Fifty humans gained!Inspect the nearby area, this area and the status of my mech. Check my body if my vital signs are normal and alright.
[~] Your currently holed up in one of the last two cities on the planet, set in among the shifting white and red sand dunes, a beacon of hope still alight for those who dwell within. The walls of are of thick, reinforced iron and ceramic, keeping the mutant hordes, which drift in from the desert, from time to time, out of the small, crowded city. A number of condensers pull moisture from the air, distilling it into drinkable water.
This place is the last capital of the democracy as well as the headquarters for General Versen and his 'Aces and Eights' or 'Dead Men Walking' division, having been named something else in the beginning, but changing with the name of the planet.
Welcome to Hellstal, Pop est. 800,000,000[9] Like before, you have a 0.05 infection rating, one of the lowest, even lower than General Versen, who now eats his meat raw, like so many other soldiers trapped here, despite their dislike, distaste and disgust with doing so. And your only physical mutation is the single, shiny scale, no large patches of scales or warts which look vaguely like tentacles, like most of the other soldiers seem to have.