Well this went well, fucking whale, I will get it's meat!
Burst out of ice with nothing but my own manly Rage!
Str:3
You struggle, but the ammonia ice and the frozen-solid suit material hold you tight. The frozen inner surface of the suit burns your skin, your visor is opaque, you've lost communications, and you can't tell whether the hissing you're hearing is your suit's struggling life support system, or the sound of your oxygen supply escaping into the thin unbreathable atmosphere outside. Everything's just dandy.
Lime hears the commotion and rushes over to the frozen Dr. Bruce, donning his combat suit just in case. He drags him back inside and bisects him tries to remove the ice from his body.
((That's totally a tech roll right? ))
You stick your head into your helmet and climb out through the narrow emergency airlock of the comms section to get at Bruce. He... doesn't look too bad, for someone almost frozen solid, but your feeble little arms are insufficient to haul his crystallized hindquarters all the way to the airlock, especially not when the ship's in the middle of playing cat-and-mouse with a frost-breathing acrobatic whale.
"Ha! Um, oops." Scoot tried his best to seem repentant, but in truth his face bore a broad grin from all the excitement.
"Fasten yer seatbelts an' all that, kids! We ain't about ta let 'em get away!"
His grin widened as he tipped the controls fowards...
>Nudge the ship further into a dive after the whale! Don't allow it to escape!
>...Still, don't go crashing the ship into the ground or anything. I mean, try not to, at least. Although squishing the whale with the hull would be kinda badass... Try and keep the ship in one piece, whatever happens. Preferably someone will shoot the damn thing so I don't have to hit-'n'-run it.
Piloting: 6
Propulsion: 6
You carefully adjust the thrust and lift so that the ship gently tips downward and accelerates after the escaping monster. For a moment it seems like you'll get him, but the whale suddenly dives into a strong opposing current and whisks in the other direction, forcing you to carefully - minding the crew on the deck this time - turn around and give chase. The monster almost gets away from you, but you manage to keep it at least somewhere on the edge of what you think would be considered "long range".
"Hell yeah! Here we go..." Jak says, after muttering about scoot, scoot's mother, and something about procreation.
Steady, aim, fire at that freak of space. I refuse to miss this time.
You steady and aim, but short of cutting the cable off the harpoon you'll never be able to hit the thing at this range. And even if you do hit then you won't be able to reel it in, and will also have to go get another harpoon from the hold to reload the turret.
Brace myself and prepare to wang my harpoon at the damn whale again.
You're in a similar predicament to Jak, in that your pitiful projectile weapon is woefully unsuitable for attacking things nearly a mile off in the distance.
Keep firing
Weap:4
You swivel the turret around, shaking off bits of snow, and let loose a continuous stream of laser blasts after the disappearing shadow of the whale in the distance. You can't even tell whether or not you hit him at this range, but the monster seems to be experiencing some steering problems, because it suddenly started weaving left and right, almost dropping out of the high-speed current carrying it. Maybe it just got dizzy?
Control AI:8
The ship's two standard-issue Jackbot-5s climb out of what you assume to be storage and head outside, one approaching Bruce and
Lime on the Comms section, and the other striding out onto the fore deck. The electronic voice of your ship's AI sounds across the ship and your helmet radios: "
This automated control unit has determined that its owners require immediate assistance."
Jackbot One Str:3
Jackbot Two Str:5
Yirkut Str:2
The first Jackbot heaves, and, with a loud
crrack, lifts the frozen form of Dr.Bruce off the deck, the suit's air supply escaping everywhere through the holes where bits of it remained attached to the floor. It begins dragging the good doctor towards the airlock, but seems to have some problems shoving him through the narrow airlock.
The second Jackbot walks up to Colonel Yirkut and, before the Colonel can so much as wave a hand at it, unceremoniously yanks his favorite Colt comp-laser gun out of the holster, aiming it in the general direction of the whale, though holding off on firing until the thing is actually in range.