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[The Canadian kitten]

Bumpity bump.
I do hope it doesn't die, I quite like this thread so far.

[Vivalas]

Heya, sorry about that. Both work and school ramped up at critically inappropriate times, and then I ended up with COVID and being stuck in a room for 10 days, which wasn't that ideal.

However, quarantine offers a good chance to catch up on school work, and enough time for the proper meditative and exercise-based reliefs that people often start missing out on when they get very busy.


I will be continuing this thread as long as there is interest. The post will come either Friday or Saturday and then I will continue as normal, with the timeframe maintaining around 4-5 days-ish (that seems to be the tempo agreed upon by the players so far) since I think giving everyone a chance to reply (within reason) is more important than the original timeframe.

Sorry about the delay. I want to be more communicative in the future, but my discipline towards this thread declined very rapidly pre-quarantine. Hope everyone is doing well 

[Vivalas]

Hey so, obviously that last post didn't come. To be honest I spent all of my creative energy on char-gen, but this is a really awesome universe, I think, and now that I've got a break from school I have a lot more energy in general to throw around.

I have a bad habit of letting things like this die, sometimes even without notice or after I said I would continue, so I want to try to ward that habit away. I will be continuing this story by typing up a post tomorrow that continues where we left off: the timeframe moving forward will be on an as-is basis depending on how much interest is left. The good thing about these types of games is that I really don't need that many people to continue the story! In fact, I could probably make due with just one or two, and relegate the other characters until NPCs until someone takes over for them.

After my first post I'll give the original players a week, then all characters are up for grabs for anyone interested. Assuming at least one person from this thread has interest still we'll go from there.

[ConscriptFive]

Good to hear from you!  I'm still in.  Looking forward to see where this all goes.

[King Zultan]

I'm still interested. The hype is real!

[Vivalas]

Prologue, Turn 4

Lucas' expression unintentionally shifts to one-half surprised and one-half neutral. "Not quite. I'm to be stationed on-"

And then, for reasons that have already been mentioned, Lucas' expression shifts to completely surprised before his training kicks in.

Flip the table to provide a modicum of cover. Working off my knowledge of where the man last was, try to grab him and drag him behind the table.
"CIVILIAN, TAKE COVER!"

Opposed Check: Melee (unarmed) 8+: STR for both
Anton Unarmed/STR: 2d6 -1 -3 -> 8 - 4 = 4
Lucas Unarmed/STR: 2d6 0 +1 -> 11+2 = 13

Lucas Success! Effect 5 vs -4

Lucas deftly flips a table and hauls Anton down to the floor next to him. The shooting stops and not much else can be perceived through all of the confused shouting and commotion. The lights are still out, which doesn't help at all.

Salia would start by examining the control circuitry to see if the problem was there, then if that wasn't it she'd go and look at the interlock itself and see if that was it and fix it.

Salia curses and heads over to the small wall hatch that leads to the neighboring control circuitry closet. To her surprise, the hatch is already slightly ajar. She climbs through, struggling to fit through the tiny hatch. On the other side is a cramped warm room filled with the hum of cooling fans and a jungle of control wiring. She makes her way over to the circuit rack that houses the control equipment for the interlock control board, the large wall of green Xs and red Os that covers a large part of the wall of lower maneuvering.

"Where is it.. right here--" Salia mutters, before gasping. The bundles of wiring for the HYX-7 interlock bank had been sliced through haphazardly with some sort of sharp implement. Below, on the floor, was a puddle of dried blood. The damage wasn't isolated solely to the HYX-7 board, however, many nearby circuits had been slashed through as well. Two nearby control modules bore the brunt of the damage: ACX-1, the Port Engine Calibration Cluster, which would explain the uppity behavior of the main drive, and SCL-2, the Ventral Turret Hydraulic System Monitoring cluster. She scratches her head, clearly there is much more wrong at the moment than a stuck hydraulic interlock. In the room, on the floor, is a roll of circuit conduit wire, enough to rewire probably only one of the clusters. But which one? As she is pondering this over, a few muffled gunshots echo down to engineering from the upper decks.

...

Creeping stealthily to the stateroom door, he double checks the lock and tries to look out the peephole.  Unless the ship intercom or alarm system says otherwise, "shelter in place" seems to be the best move.

Still, he can't help but ponder some more extreme courses of action...

Encyclopedia Where's the survival gear on this ship? Lifeboats, escape-pods, Vacc-suits, etc.  (If Corbin has to literally jump ship, he better know how.)

Encyclopedia The freigher's been underway for a long time now.  How far from civilization are we?  Is rescue/escape viable, or merely a slow death sentence "where no one can hear you scream?"

Encyclopedia What kind of arms and general security does the ships crew have?  (He may not have had a full career as a naval officer, but he's been on the bridge of far grander vessels.  Worst, comes to worst, he could flash his badge and "commandeer" the ship to safety.  Sure, rum-runners might not respect a badge, but everyone get more cooperative with a PX-11 pointed at them.)

Corbin shelters in his stateroom, peeping through the hole on his stateroom door. A few crewmembers run by, their voices a medley of shouts and confused questions without answers as they stream aft towards the source of the commotion.

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know, but number 2 can't raise the skipper on his personal comm, and none of the announcer circuits work. Lighting failed on Deck 1, too."

"What? What the hell is going on?"

Encyclopedia: Where's the survival gear on this ship? Lifeboats, escape-pods, Vacc-suits, etc

You are in luck, sir. Most of the people that ponder this very question to their internal monologue don't actually know the answer-- most aren't quite as observant as you. Anyhow, Nord Industries is a company known foremost for the excellent safety of their ships. Just about every compartment on every deck has a small locker with emergency gear-- at least in standard sale configuration. Freelancer crews are known to sell most of the excessive emergency gear for excess cash. You've seen a few of the lockers, white with red triangles, in various locations. The nearest, you believe, is in the aft ladderwell. Lifeboats? You're not quite sure, actually. The ship probably has them but you haven't seen any on your long stay here. Vacc-suits are located in most of the airlocks, although they tend to be locked. The closest airlocks are at the top of the fore ladderwell, in the Ventral Docking Module.

...

Encyclopedia: The freigher's been underway for a long time now.  How far from civilization are we?  Is rescue/escape viable, or merely a slow death sentence "where no one can hear you scream?"

To the contrary, lad. You're only a few days from Cryostail! Along the well-travelled tradelane linking the system jump point to the inner planets. Someone is bound to see you before the oxygen in a standard pod would run out-- although if you jumped ship using a rescue bubble your chances are probably more slim.

...

Encyclopedia: What kind of arms and general security does the ships crew have?

Most freelancer crews are decently armed. At the very least, everyone has a personal sidearm. There's probably also a weapons locker, but the location of the armory wouldn't be openly disclosed to passengers.

Clearly, this is a dangerous situation and Maria must be protected so, John pushes her to the ground and covers him with his body. If that John's body can even block bullets.

John throws Maria down to the ground and shields her. He's not losing anyone else in his family.

Curiously, the shooting stops, however, and although the lights are still out, through the noise and confusion of the aftermath, he can make out that not a whole lot of people are injured, least as he can tell. He and Maria are safe as well.

"Oh shit!" Ace quickly ducks behind a counter and pulls out his Martian Judge. He attempts to get closer the people firing the bullets by quietly crawling on the ground, so that he can aim a few clear shots of his own.

Ace jumps to cover and draws his Judge, keeping an eye out for any sign of just what the fuck just happened.

Hidden Recon Check 10+: Success! (12+1 vs. 10)

The shooting stops before he can react and discern a target in the dark, chaotic, lounge. However, from his vantage point he notices, by perhaps purely a stroke of luck, that the door leading out of the lounge briefly opens and closes while illuminated by the nearby light of one of the passengers.
Previous Post

[King Zultan]

"What the fuck is going on."
Salia would go use whatever comms and try to find out what the hell's going on, if she can't get a hold of anyone she'd go back to the panel and find whatever damaged thing she thinks is the most important item in this situation and fix it.

[ConscriptFive]

Corbin Fresno is at a dilemma.  Sure, he's safe in his stateroom for now, but in the long-term, solitude is a liability.  If they've been boarded by particularly murderous pirates, there's safety in numbers.  Sure the crew has arms, but as a former field agent, he's probably more capable and experienced in a firefight than any of them.  Furthermore, if there's shipboard crime, he's conspicuously absent, and thus a prime suspect.  Any false charges probably wouldn't stick, but he'd rather not come into any suspicion that would invite scrutiny of his baggage.  He would've liked to keep a lower profile, but he may need to step up to the plate here.

Corbin exits his stateroom and looks for any crew members, preferably a familiar one.  He should ask them whats going on, and volunteer to be of assistance.  If no crew can be immediately found, carefully work his way aft-ward towards the action.

[Vivalas]

Phew! I could say I let a week go by to gauge interest in the other players but I also partially lost track of time. Either way, we'll be maintaining a much faster update cycle going forward based mostly on the response times of those participating still.

I understand why people would lose interest after I let the game alone for so long, but also going forwards having as many characters filled as possible is useful. Anyone is free to join with an existing PC. Until then they will remain under NPC control.
Prologue, Turn 5

"What the fuck is going on."
Salia would go use whatever comms and try to find out what the hell's going on, if she can't get a hold of anyone she'd go back to the panel and find whatever damaged thing she thinks is the most important item in this situation and fix it.

Comms, we need comms. Salia climbs out of the control circuitry maintenance hatch and back into maneuvering in search of an intercom, where a few of the ship's engineering crew have congregated. She looks around the people who have assembled and to her displeasure doesn't recognize anybody who would really be of help in this situation. "Anyone see the cheng?" she asks.

"Ey's up onna brehdge." a burly ginger replies, before turning back to the control panel him and another brute are currently puzzling over.

"Anyone know what the fuck is going on?" Salia asks, before nodding back at the open hatch. "Control circuitry is fucked, looks like someone cut it."

"Ey?" the man replies again, whirling around. "What'stha? Inn'i cut'sit?" he slurs, pushing her aside and barreling into the control circuit closet. A few curses can be heard before his head pokes out again, not unlike a mouse. "Wha't feck did tha?"

Salia shrugs and looks around. "Anyone know where James is? I think he was doing maintenance on the closet this morning."

Everyone shakes their head.

Salia curses. She isn't exactly the newest hand on the ship, but she's a much better thief than she is a starship engineer. And nobody in this room is likely going to be of any help for deciding what to repair.

To the best of her knowledge, the 3 control circuits that are damaged control the following: port engine drive calibration, hydraulic systems interlocks and monitoring, and ventral turret hydraulics. Notably turret controls are on a separate, hardened and secured network-- however, the hydraulics for the turrets themselves aren't. She's gonna either have to figure out what to do or find more cable somewhere.

Corbin Fresno is at a dilemma.  Sure, he's safe in his stateroom for now, but in the long-term, solitude is a liability.  If they've been boarded by particularly murderous pirates, there's safety in numbers.  Sure the crew has arms, but as a former field agent, he's probably more capable and experienced in a firefight than any of them.  Furthermore, if there's shipboard crime, he's conspicuously absent, and thus a prime suspect.  Any false charges probably wouldn't stick, but he'd rather not come into any suspicion that would invite scrutiny of his baggage.  He would've liked to keep a lower profile, but he may need to step up to the plate here.

Corbin exits his stateroom and looks for any crew members, preferably a familiar one.  He should ask them whats going on, and volunteer to be of assistance.  If no crew can be immediately found, carefully work his way aft-ward towards the action.

Corbin ambles out in to the hallway. It's currently empty except for footsteps coming from the direction of the fore ladderwell. He turns and heads aft, running back to the cabin where the gunshots were heard from. The door to the cabin is currently in a held-open state. He approaches quietly and peaks through the opening.

"Until we figure out who is responsible for this murder, all passengers are confined to the cabin until further notice." Captain Remmy is speaking to the passengers, flanked by two crew, each carrying what appear to be submachine guns. None of the crew in the cabin seem to have noticed Corbin yet.

Just then, Corbin hears something behind him. He whirls around to find a stocky man with a shotgun looking at him.

"Sorry mate, got orders to corral everyon' inta the cabin." he says, motioning with his gun.

[King Zultan]

Salia's first course of action would be to fix the turret hydraulics as those might be more important right now, then once finished with them she'd go find more cabling to fix the rest of the damage.

[ConscriptFive]

Corbin hides his relief that it's "only a murder(s)".  The underworld can be a violent place.  A robbery? A revenge? "Business by other means?"  Ultimately not his problem; it's usually safest to keep your nose out of other people's business.

...but there would be an investigation...

...and he's near the scene of the crime...

...without an alibi...

...and he has a black market gun in his cabin...

If this was his investigation back in the navy, somebody like that would be the prime suspect.  In fact, a good assassin (say an IIA one) would set up a patsy like that. All too coincidental, isn't it?

...well, shit.

"But they don't know about the badge," he thinks to himself.

He's be sticking his neck out, but better to be the accuser than the accused.

Corbin discreetly shows his badge to the crewman.  "I'd like to offer my services to the Captain."

[Vivalas]

Prologue, Turn 6

Salia's first course of action would be to fix the turret hydraulics as those might be more important right now, then once finished with them she'd go find more cabling to fix the rest of the damage.

Mechanics 8+:
Mechanics 0/INT: 2d6 +1 0 : 8 + 1 = 9
Success!

Salia mutters some more obscenities as she climbs back through the narrow hatchway in the wall. She grabs the cabling and sets to work, methodically re-wiring the shredded control circuitry for the ship's turret hydraulics. After a few cuts, zaps, and some MacGyvering, the lights on the control box blink back to life and flash on and off in a rapid staccato. Some electrical whirring sounds and beeps indicate that everything is in working order and after a few good multimeter checks across the reference points on the box, Salia is satisfied with her handiwork.

She climbs back out of the electrical room and into maneuvering. Royce, one of the more senior engineers on the ship, is now there with the others from before. He looks up as she enters.

"Royce! Someone at least who knows what he's doing!" she yells, exasperated, with a side-long glance at the other crew. "What the hell is going on?"

"Ey, Salia. Wae got a bittae problem up onna top deck. Some VIP got killed, it seems, anna some of our computer systems were subverted, lost comms and other things. I haerd we had sabotage doun haer, also?"

Salia nods. "Just fixed some of it, was looking for some more cabling to fix the rest."

Royce nods and turns back to directing the other less savvy members of the ship's grease-monkey battalion.

Salia looks around the control room but can't find any cabling anywhere, not even in the emergency tool cabinets along the port bulkhead.

Corbin hides his relief that it's "only a murder(s)".  The underworld can be a violent place.  A robbery? A revenge? "Business by other means?"  Ultimately not his problem; it's usually safest to keep your nose out of other people's business.

...but there would be an investigation...

...and he's near the scene of the crime...

...without an alibi...

...and he has a black market gun in his cabin...

If this was his investigation back in the navy, somebody like that would be the prime suspect.  In fact, a good assassin (say an IIA one) would set up a patsy like that. All too coincidental, isn't it?

...well, shit.

"But they don't know about the badge," he thinks to himself.

He's be sticking his neck out, but better to be the accuser than the accused.

Corbin discreetly shows his badge to the crewman.  "I'd like to offer my services to the Captain."

(Side note, the SMG is actually concealed on Corbin, not in his cabin.)

Corbin has been called a lot of things by many people, but never has anyone accused him of not being audacious. Captain Remmy is no dime-a-dozen freelancer skipper. Getting a ship as large as the Leprechaun and keeping it was something most spacers only could aspire to, and the old Captain had to be sharp to stay alive as long as he had with the types of people he deals with on the regular.

Corbin pulls a badge out of his pocket and flashes it to the crewman. "I'd like to offer my services to the Captain." he says, deadpan and serious as can be.

The man's eyes go wide and he quickly nods. "Right away, sir." he says, walking Corbin over to the Captain, who is currently arguing with one of many of the now livid passengers.

Deception 10+ (Boon):
Corbin Deception 2/INT: 2d6 +2 +2 : (2, 4, 5) -> 9 + 4 = 13
Success!

"Captain! We have an inquisitor here, he says he wants to help." the crewman says, motioning to Corbin. Remmy turns around, somewhat bewildered and looks Corbin and his badge over.

"..huh." the Captain says, giving Corbin a halting look. "Well, inquisitor, what is this, some sort of petty fucking feud between two douchebag fuckin' nobles about who has the biggest contribution to the bloody diplomatic corps? Why the fuck is there both a dead ambassador and the Inquisition on my ship? he shouts, quite angrily. "And why the fuck should I not just shoot you right now and tell the imps on Cryostail that four 'brave, valorous, and dignant' servants of the Imperium died on my ship rather than three?

Well, if nothing else, finally some information.

[ConscriptFive]

A dead Ambassador and two dead IIA ops... that's not a murder; that's an assassination.  Combined with the Captain's less than grateful response, Corbin immediately regrets poking his nose into this matter.  But it's too late now...

"Well sir, while I can't speak for my recently deceased peers, I am merely travelling incognito to my next assignment on Cryostail.  Trying to stay 'under the radar' so to speak by travelling on a freetrader, rather than booking myself on a govvie ship.  I'm fairly confident IIA had no interest in you or your ship."

"Of course, notice the use of the past tense, sir.  The only thing worse than an Ambassador and two dead IIA agents, would be to add a third.  Plus that third agent being completely undercover.  What would that look like?"

"Now I understand an old salt like you has been up and down the space lanes a few times, so hopefully I don't have to lay out how dire your situation is.  You're not some salaried corporate fleet hack.  You're an independent captain.  And I respect that."

"But when shit hits the fan, the buck stops here."

"Best case scenario, we touch down on Cryostail, the Ambassador's welcoming party come to greet him on the tarmac, and then they immediately impound EVERYTHING.  And they can do that, because you're not some connected Avalos freighter backed by army of lawyers and bought politicians...  with all due respect sir... in terms of the grand scheme of things: you're nobody."

"So your ship, crew, passengers, and freight will be impounded... for days, if not longer.  Hope you won't default on any time sensitive contracts then.  Because IIA won't care, and neither will your insurers.  Time is money, Captain.  And you're due to lose a lot of it."

"And God forbid you're running any contraband.  While surely a wise man such as your self will have made the "appropriate arrangements" with OCE on Cryostail, don't expect them to stick their necks out for you when IIA starts strip-searching every cargo hold, broom closet, and lunch pail on this bucket of bolts.  I mean, I'm sure you've got nothing to hide there, but it sure sounds inconvenient doesn't it, sir?  I hope you run a tight crew too.  You'd be surprised how many times I've seen some punk rat out his leadership for just to dodge a felony possession charge."

"Don't get me wrong, sir.  Both you and I know you had nothing to do with the three high profile murders that happened on your watch.  But remember, in the grand scheme of things: you're a nobody.  And the three bodies at your feet were somebodies.  Without a doubt, the Minister of Security is going to want a scalp for this.  And like I said, the buck stops here."

"Now, sir,  I bet you're thinking right now that you're the unluckiest man in the 'verse.  But that's not entirely true.  You know why?"

Corbin dramatically points a thumb at himself, "You got me, sir."

"As a fully accredited IIA agent, I can 'front-load' the investigation right now.  Maybe even make the arrest before planetfall.  Sure some downtime at port will be unavoidable, but I can expedite this.  And with your full cooperation, keep certain 'peripheral issues' from being passed to OCE."

"You're the Captain of this ship, sir, and as an incognito traveller, I'm in no position to compel you to do anything... but again, I would like to offer my services in investigating this matter."

[King Zultan]

"Where the hell is the cabling, why can't people put shit where it's supposed to go?"
Start searching everywhere people seem to leave things when they can't be bothered to put in the right place, then in places where work was done recently because some people seem to love leaving stuff where it is when finished working rather than put it where it goes.

[The Canadian kitten]

(Turns out lots of things happen when you're gone for some time)

Clearly, it's way past the shooting. John stands up and helps Maria up as well. When there is danger, there are always injuries.
So, he goes around treating anyone if someone actually got shot or got trampled or something. Also, calm Maria if necessary and keep her near John.