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Author Topic: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 8]  (Read 10993 times)

Taricus

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 0!]
« Reply #15 on: June 22, 2016, 06:29:16 pm »

Zahir seems to be put at ease as the woman spoke. Then that one word came up and he visibly tensed up.

Fun.

That one word set off alarms all over for Zahir, and outright cooled his reaction towards her. He knew that there were two types of earthborn that went up past the orbitals, and only the sort that was curious and excited about these... abominations would ever consider the work up here 'fun'. That being said, if he did get out a fairly satisfactory responce, he knew he'd have a far more difficult time up here (Who was going to make it difficult, Zahir had no idea about.)

"No, just looking for work."
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GiglameshDespair

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 0!]
« Reply #16 on: June 22, 2016, 06:52:35 pm »

"I see... you always were better at drinking than anyone else I've seen. People always get so terribly nervous when they hear I've been asking about them, my lovely, so I imagine I don't have the knack."
Boots thudded into her, and Medulla's brow furrowed.
"Not much of a horsewoman, I see. Enough of that, my darling!" Her tone was light, but nonetheless her mouth tendrils snaked out and wrapped around Brooklyn's legs. "I hope you don't intend to start another barfight. That drunk was philosophising most interestingly, even if he did vomit on your boots."

Be the noble steed for the un-noble rider.
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Dwarmin

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 0!]
« Reply #17 on: June 23, 2016, 08:45:20 am »

"...See, you, if'n a tav needs a scrap-up, this dudette shall truly abide to the rule. So goes the way of all the thousand thousand worlds-be scrapping'd, or be scrapped'ing! Say, see-one need'ont loc a bidget, for em' to splick ya in the affb's. Do a daily splicking, I see, before you be a daily splick upon.

Also, I had a dearest liking for those sleek treads, you."
Brooklyn said, thumbing her nose at her potential enemies, which included the entire galaxy apparently.

"Bythe, what's a howrse?" Brooklyn asked.
« Last Edit: June 23, 2016, 08:48:50 am by Dwarmin »
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GiglameshDespair

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 0!]
« Reply #18 on: June 23, 2016, 11:10:57 am »

"A horse? A quadruped animal used as a beast of burden and for warriors to ride, a long time ago. I believe they're extinct now, my heart."
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Dwarmin

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 0!]
« Reply #19 on: June 23, 2016, 11:32:30 am »

"Hmm, I reck' I can sympth to that beat."
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Digital Hellhound

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 0!]
« Reply #20 on: June 23, 2016, 12:07:36 pm »

Turn 1
Turns are, apparently, when everyone's posted atleast once... or completely arbitrary.

Brooklyn of Clan Spyche and Medulla-3
Action: Time for some prospecting! Head to a local tavern-analogue and sift for information about this doc.
Be the noble steed for the un-noble rider.

The two reunited friends don't give a damn if they might get odd looks - Brooklyn clambers up on Medulla's shoulders and kicks her mount into action. There has to be a tavern of some kind around here somewhere. Brooklyn sets her Caster to searching for a suitable place while the pair of them discuss, and approximately 0.2 milliseconds later, it comes up with a host of options. They don't sound like the kind of tavern she's used to, but this ain't Enceladus anymore. They'll do. Brookyln picks the option with the most recent data traffic, judging it to be popular or important enough to have someone that knows something.

Their path takes them smackdab through the middle of the Market, but Medulla has no problem getting people to move out of their way. The big bioroid makes a fairly decent mount, as such things go, and the trip is a pleasant one. They leave the crowds behind and enter a slightly less populous corridor with the walls covered by ancient-looking stone edifices. It's probably just that - a look. Solars amble here in ones or twos, taking their time. Their glassy eyes and vibrant proxnet signals tell the pair they're not as idle as they seem.

A few minutes take Brooklyn and Medulla before an edifice bursting with transmitters that begin to hammer at their Casters with advertisements. Encoded stim-images featuring intriguing-looking foods, drinks and services attempt to get through Brooklyn and Medulla's security, but the pair are a little too wary to let them in. The sender data identifies the place as the Illuminated Lady. It looks like a place worth visiting.

The Lady proves, once they pass through the doors, to be a dark, smoky place of adaptive seats and tables changing to fit their occupants, an ever-pervasive odor of high-grade intoxicants, and a large number of inhabitants all staring slackly at their implanted Casters or nothing much at all. Only a few look at the new arrivals over drinks or chemical cocktails - a Remnant with a thoroughly mechanical body, a slight, twitchy man with a clearly malfunctioning detox gland, and a red-haired pilot with a direct interface port in her palm. Drinks are served by a flesh-and-blood bartender, a tall woman with razor-sharp metallic wings and a smiling white mask covering - or perhaps replacing - her face. A few large screens display news or entertainment 'casts, but nobody seems to be paying much attention to them. Sensors sweep over them as they arrive. Brooklyn can't say if they penetrate her masking or not - it doesn't necessarily matter, though. She'd be much more of an oddity if they picked up nothing at all.

'How may we serve you?' a breathless angelic voice asks, quite out of nowhere. 'Stims? Food? Something more... special, perhaps...?'

***

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Dwarmin

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 0!]
« Reply #21 on: June 23, 2016, 12:59:49 pm »

Brooklyn's idea of excitement was a little more 'interactive' than stims and drinks-but, she could put down with the best of them, like most her people could. Remnants developed a number of interesting adaptations...one of them being that 'basic' food, drink and drugs that Earthers favored, had a hard time even making them blink. Hence places like this, which catered to a harder crowd. Still, the Alc they made on Enceladus (brewed from yeast of bio-engineered 'shrooms properly grown the underside of plasma reactor housings, and flavored with corpse fertilizer) would probably kill half the people in this room when it was unbottled. Or so they would brag, anyway...

She didn't see any easy marks-a twitchy broke drunk could be a font of information, but so could a hot-wired stargirl with a gnarly brush-Brooklyn really liked her hair, though she'd kill you before admitting to feeling something so soft and vain and Earthy as that.

Brooklyn also knew more than enough to trust a 'fellow' Remnant, as a matter of course-if they were from a warring clan (And when weren't the clans warring?) they might feel compelled to draw down on semblance on some idiotic thousand-thousand year grudge over a flock of space-groats. Or, he might be just fob her off on account of her bloodline, such things being fairly important in some clans...and, Remnants usually were quite reserved in any case, unless it came to business. She needed a moment of observation, to try and see which-maybe she could get an inside straight on where he was from, that would lead to an invitation for information.

"Me-am-I, what a place. Like'n they trigged a tox-specs bothole offering a K of Det!" She said, sort of playing up her 'yokel' persona. Better if they didn't pay her special attention-let her be a customer, and no more.

"Bequaff e'me a mean-sheet, bewinged mandarmi, so I may espy me a most portented viscous adulateratment! I am viddying up, for most higher quality, not to be doubted."

Action: Take a look at the menu! What's the most expensive drink there? Failing that, what's the most expensive thing I could reasonably afford?

Also, can I tell anything particular about the Remnant? Might he be a foeman? Or not?
« Last Edit: June 23, 2016, 01:03:31 pm by Dwarmin »
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Digital Hellhound

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 1!]
« Reply #22 on: June 23, 2016, 03:16:57 pm »

Brooklyn of Clan Spyche
"Bequaff e'me a mean-sheet, bewinged mandarmi, so I may espy me a most portented viscous adulateratment! I am viddying up, for most higher quality, not to be doubted."

Action: Take a look at the menu! What's the most expensive drink there? Failing that, what's the most expensive thing I could reasonably afford?

Also, can I tell anything particular about the Remnant? Might he be a foeman? Or not?


The bartender cocks her head at Brooklyn, then gives a bright laugh. 'I'm sorry, darling, my translator soft must be out of date. It's lagging beh- ah, gotcha. Take your pick.'

Brooklyn goes through the list based on the prices, and picks a few of the more expensive ones. The bartender begins cooking up something - or several somethings - under the bar, so Brooklyn takes the moment to check out the Remnant in the corner. [Senses (Diff. 6):10+5=15][Knowledge: Sol (Diff. 8):10] The man isn't making any effort to hide his augmentations or gear. Brooklyn's enhanced senses pick up a variety of heavy-duty cybernetics, including full-body enviroplating for violent storms, high pressures, harmful rads - what have you. He's got some kind of microfusion core, maybe a backup power source, in his gut. The tech doesn't look Enceladian, and neither does the man. It takes Brooklyn a moment to identify him; a Martian, probably from the wilder regions, bearing no clan marks or fealty signs she can recognize. But then, Martians do things strangely, much of the time. Probably not a foeman, in any case.

Brooklyn checks out his Caster ID for any additional information, but there's not much there. It has a name, though, if not necessarily real; Dramon of Alba Patera. It doesn't sound familiar.

Brooklyn's enhanced hearing lets her know the bartender's finished and she turns to see what's on offer. Three drinks sit on the table; the first in a long, armoured glass, glows softly. She can detect considerable rads coming off the thing. The second is delicate glass bottle shaped like a man holding a torch, the liquid inside translucent. The third appears rather unremarkable; a red liquer in an unmarked bottle.

'Well, dear,' the bartender starts, her wings giving off sounds like knives as they move, 'you oughta like one of these, at least. This is Ongram Radspike, brought here by a miner in the Free Belt. You look like you can handle it, but me - I'd probably get cancer. Cancers. It takes some time to kick in, I'm told, but when it does... 50 Credits per shot. You won't find it anywhere else on the ship. And here, the second - Venusian Light Wine, by the maestro Indivisio. A true rarity, I'm afraid - 5,000 Credits. You wished to see our best; this is it. Radiation-bleached grapes grown in the Venusian atmosphere, personally gene-crafted by Indivisio and given something new each step of the process. Every distillation produces something ever-so-subtly different. But, mmh, you might also like your third option. Genuine Earthborn alc, untampered, unmodded, but surprisingly strong. Or so they say. 200 Credits for the bottle; 20 Credits for a shot.'

***

« Last Edit: June 23, 2016, 03:43:53 pm by Digital Hellhound »
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MonkeyHead

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 1!]
« Reply #23 on: June 23, 2016, 03:29:58 pm »

Work? Yeah, me too. Well, not really work, more of a vocation I suppose. You would best describe me as a student, with my field of interest being off world sociology. Its so much more... chaotic than back home. Free form, if you will. My directors want to know as much as they can about who and/or what are out here. Why, I have no idea, and the pay stinks, but that chance to see the system was too good to pass up. Oh, look at me, waffling... so, what about you? What line of work are you in? No, don't tell me, some kind of exotic smuggler, right?
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GiglameshDespair

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 1!]
« Reply #24 on: June 23, 2016, 03:51:40 pm »

Medulla-3, for her part, was incapable of getting drunk - the benefit of having biochemical processing modules instead of a digestive tract like humans.
Still, she could taste things, and some of the more exotic cocktails gave her useful chemicals for gas production. Similarly, she didn't have much to fear from radiation, not having cells or DNA as such.

She checked her internal storage, but didn't have any credits anyway. Oh well! The matter was moot.

While Brookyln assailed with her barbarous tongue talked with the bartender, the bioroid took a look at the news picts for anything interesting.
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Dwarmin

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 1!]
« Reply #25 on: June 23, 2016, 03:56:36 pm »

Brooklyn decided that of the three offers, one was clearly meant to be unobtainable to all but the incredibly wealthy, and one was a sort of back-handed insult (as was the first, in a different way), leaving the third choice-the alc they had probably intended to sell her in the first place.

Cancer didn't hold much fear to her-she was already dying.

"I'll spec some of that Ongram Radspike! One must suffice that single span of a small life, and a'times needs be that you take a jump to cross those spans-otherwise, you're just floating...

Do inject me, you. Postchop!"


She wired her credits, then leaned in toward the bartender, speaking softly.

"For this salt of an imbib might you get a gram to yonder Rem-man?" She said, jerking her thumb at the Martian. "Query him if he's a sort of remman who is in the mix of selling needs-to-knows about this unholy rot of a station-or if he is a man who knows other men who do so-and if so, then to covey my attention toward him, forthwith-for a Reman'a like moi may have a need for such a thing, and is willing to barter...If that query does come back neg, forth pray leave him be. If contact is pos, do tell, and I might grace yon bewinged server'ess who stands so afore me, with a moit of glit.

Or, perhaps she might otherwise put a penitent pilgrim me, on a path of knowing. And for this Kurn would blesse her many times folded, and forthwith her fortunes do improve."



Action: Order a shot of Radspike.

Try to get a message to the man from mars, asking if he's the sort who is willing to trade information on the station. If successful, tip 10 creds to the waitress for this service, personally to her (if possible)

If fail, try to press the waitress for any leads.

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Taricus

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 1!]
« Reply #26 on: June 23, 2016, 10:14:00 pm »

Zahir found himself increasingly suspicious of the woman. Something in her words started to make him feel something was... off about her.

"As I said, I'm up here looking for work, not that I do any at the moment. Now if you don't mind could you please leave. I'd rather not be drawing attention, and two earthers is only going to make the...things here curious and I'd prefer to not have to deal with them as much as possible."
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MonkeyHead

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 1!]
« Reply #27 on: June 24, 2016, 12:38:31 pm »

Zahir found himself increasingly suspicious of the woman. Something in her words started to make him feel something was... off about her.

"As I said, I'm up here looking for work, not that I do any at the moment. Now if you don't mind could you please leave. I'd rather not be drawing attention, and two earthers is only going to make the...things here curious and I'd prefer to not have to deal with them as much as possible."

Oh... sorry to have bothered you. Just trying to be polite. See you around, maybe.

OCOS found the paranoia of the pureform most vexing. Most probable cause of this was some institutionalised mistrust of any and all outsiders. She chalked it up to experience, and uploaded a small data packet detailing her musings on said Earthborn mistrust. It might only be of minor use to other unit, but every little helped. She also logged an entity of interest post on a secure operative data stream, just in case the individual she attempted to exchange pleasantries with showed up in proximity to any interesting events For the tiniest fraction of a second she contemplated bugging him, but as the man in question was barely worthy of the name "asset", she dismissed the impulse as quick as it arrived.

Time to change tack. If she could not find anything of interest, she would have to let the interest come to her. OCOS walked away feigning a loss of dignity, heading to the nearest dock area in order to scope out any interesting outgoing vessels worth lingering by.

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Taricus

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 1!]
« Reply #28 on: June 24, 2016, 01:58:01 pm »

Following the stranger's departure, Zahir got back into the thick of things, perusing the markets for anything that'd warrant future interest for the Dominion.

Continue window shopping in the markets. Anything of interest Zahir jots down to investigate at a later date.
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Digital Hellhound

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Re: Solar: a Transhuman Scifi RPG IC [Turn 1!]
« Reply #29 on: June 26, 2016, 08:30:14 am »

Turn 2

Medulla-3 and Brooklyn of Clan Spyche
While Brookyln assailed with her barbarous tongue talked with the bartender, the bioroid took a look at the news picts for anything interesting.
Action: Order a shot of Radspike.

Try to get a message to the man from mars, asking if he's the sort who is willing to trade information on the station. If successful, tip 10 creds to the waitress for this service, personally to her (if possible)

If fail, try to press the waitress for any leads.


While her friend is preoccupied, Medulla-3 turns her attention to the news feeds. The channel is a local one and accompanied by a steady stream of data embedded in the video she reads through. A pleasant-voiced woman with a slight bulge and surgery scars around her vocal chords goes through a handful of topics rapidly:

-The solar annual Thinkers' Conclave is beginning on the Machine station of Zeitgeist, welcoming all Solars of intellect to share and discuss their ideas, findings and creations of the past year. An appearance by the genius Fabricant is expected, though unfounded rumors of this sort have been around before.

-Another interstellar voyage is in the plans by the Tharsis Exploration Society, this one supposedly paving the way for Mankind's first successful extrasolar colony on the barren world of Hawking V. A preceding mass probe launch is planned for this week, Martian calendar, and all interested all invited to watch.

-Machine group-mind Indomitus has claimed responsibility for the destruction of the free ship Gentle Summers in Jupiter orbit two days ago, citing 'unlawful detachment of component unit' by members of the ship's crew. The ship was carrying a dormant Orbital citizen, who perished without backup, and a number of Orbitals have declared their intention to bring Indomitus to justice. Any information of the entity's activities or whereabouts will be rewarded.

-Massive cyberattack launched against Orbital Ring-7 reportedly repulsed without harm; as usual, disruptions in Solar networks expected during Orbital reprisal strikes.

Other than that, there's not much of interest, mainly local matters. Medulla-3 scans for any mention of the scientist her friend is searching for, but there's nothing. You'll not find real, juicy information on public news broadcasts, anyway - at least, most of the time.

***

Meanwhile, Brooklyn picks the Radspike. The bartender's mask is expressionless as she pours a shot of the stuff - the liquid hisses as it touches the reinforced glass. The Enceledian wires over the 50 Credits - it's costly, but a good drink is worth any price.

[Endurance (Diff. 8): 6] She downs the shot in one gulp, and her body goes wild with alarms. Her augmented senses scream in protest at the touch of the thing and it numbs her mouth for a good minute. Her innate rad counters go in the red for several unnerving seconds before her body begins its countermeasures. Brooklyn's exoskin is of little help when she's directly ingested the stuff, but a Remnant's body is generally sturdy enough to handle a few rads and toxins. Generally. She can't help but to feel this might've been a bit more than she bargained for.

Another part of her mind concludes that, yes, this Radspike has one hell of a kick and an interesting, sense-numbing aftertaste. Her head spins a little in a way that's more pleasant than not. And what was that about it taking some time to kick in? Brooklyn can only wait. This might be something worth writing home about, so to speak. Even if her innards are burning a little right now.

Before that, however, she has work to do. Brooklyn leans in towards the bartender and asks her question.

"For this salt of an imbib might you get a gram to yonder Rem-man?" She said, jerking her thumb at the Martian. "Query him if he's a sort of remman who is in the mix of selling needs-to-knows about this unholy rot of a station-or if he is a man who knows other men who do so-and if so, then to covey my attention toward him, forthwith-for a Reman'a like moi may have a need for such a thing, and is willing to barter...If that query does come back neg, forth pray leave him be. If contact is pos, do tell, and I might grace yon bewinged server'ess who stands so afore me, with a moit of glit.

Or, perhaps she might otherwise put a penitent pilgrim me, on a path of knowing. And for this Kurn would blesse her many times folded, and forthwith her fortunes do improve."


It seems to take her a moment to get that, [Charm (Diff. 4): 11+5=16] but then the woman nods. 'That's very sweet of you, dear. I'm not going to ask why you don't just ask him yourself. Caution kept the cat alive, or so my birth mother used to say. A moment.'

There's a burst of data traffic between the bartender and the other Remnant. After a while, the bartender inclines her head ever-so-slightly, and Brooklyn's Caster registers an incoming message from Dramon of Alba Patera. Brooklyn transfers the bartender a suitable reward for the information - or, judging by her sudden change in posture, perhaps more than suitable.

The message is in plaintext, short and simple. Not in th'business of knowin', myself, but I might've got a little for yas. This be free, from one dead fool to 'nother. There's a broker - a knower, secret-seller, on th'ship - name's Radiance. Don't cheat nobody, keeps to herself. I'll fix yas a meeting. She ain't the only one, but th'rest of 'em are crooked as wilders.

Hmm. It's something.

***


OCOS-998
Time to change tack. If she could not find anything of interest, she would have to let the interest come to her. OCOS walked away feigning a loss of dignity, heading to the nearest dock area in order to scope out any interesting outgoing vessels worth lingering by.

Making a show of being stung by the pureform's rejection, OCOS walks off. She keeps her eye on the human for a while still, but he appears to lose his interest in her quickly. A pity. Still, one pureform is hardly the only thing of interest aboard this vessel. The synth decides to head to the nearest docking bay to look at the ships.

The constant background noise of voices and data begins to fall away as she makes her way outwards from the Market. Endless poorly disguised industrial corridors greet her, maze-like, but she has a general map of the ship and Orbital pathfinding software, and she finds her way to the nearest docking bay without effort.

One of four on the Ark, it is nearly full, mostly used by freighters and automated cargo ships loading or unloading before setting off again. They could be from any half-civilized Remnant hub or free station across the Solar System. [Knowledge: Sol (Diff. 7): 3] None of these vessels stick out to her, but she captures them in her memory nevertheless. This information could, for example, be crucial to analyst units elsewhere. There's always places on these kinds of vessels, if she wishes to leave on one of them - a fairly discreet, if not too glamorous choice of transportation.

There are two more curious vessels. The first one seems to be a light-weight warship, with a very old frame with some more recent upgrades. It gives off no name to her queries, but the name of the captain is registered as one Gurshin Broo. The other is a sleek Ring-fabricated ship of seamless, nullsense stealth plating, bearing the name of Division Six. She picks up high-power components throughout the vessel - a focused scan might tell her what they are. The owner is one Alejandro Gouveia, a name [Knowledge: Sol (Diff. 10): 13] included in her Orbital briefing data. Gouveia, known as Blackheart, is a master data-thief and mercenary... who, by all accounts, is imprisoned with Orbital consensus in the Quantumhold splinter-prison off Mercury at this moment.

This is... slightly alarming.

***

Spoiler: OCOS-998 (MonkeyHead) (click to show/hide)

Zahir Spencer
Following the stranger's departure, Zahir got back into the thick of things, perusing the markets for anything that'd warrant future interest for the Dominion.

Continue window shopping in the markets. Anything of interest Zahir jots down to investigate at a later date.

With the human woman leaving in a huff, Zahir turns back to perusing the Market. Odd technology abounds, though he has to rely on his Caster to actually identify their names or purposes. The damned thing's screen keeps filling with alarms and queries, even after he tries to block the damned things from appearing. He begins to suspect its rudimentary security may not be enough in this cursed place.

There are things of interest. A ridiculous-looking four-armed abhuman displays long cylinders he claims contain advanced nanomachinery for purposes of sabotage and infiltration. They will gradually take root in the machines of the enemy until the time is right and the right command given, at which point they will destroy or seize control of their hosts. Even better, the man... the thing... claims he has a considerable supply of these things.

An automated stall showcases a number of intriguing EMP-shielded energy weapons for him. Zahir sees two uses for them; first, they might function even in the case of an errant cloud of Rampancy, and two, the Dominion could reverse-engineer the technology for themselves. The cheapest, a rapid-firing laser pistol, begins at 1,000 Tharsis Credits. There are stalls showing cheaper weaponry, too, of course.

Zahir spots an advert - well, it forces its way onto the screen of his Caster - for a place called Circuit Rock, an asteroid station that boasts of being 'the largest drone market in Sol'. Drones, he admits, are vulnerable, untrustworthy things, but they could bolster the capabilities of the Dominion in many ways.

Specify what, exactly, you'd like to look for if you want to continue shopping.

***

« Last Edit: June 27, 2016, 10:20:46 am by Digital Hellhound »
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