DM Salsa Presents: The Black Velvet Blues (Inactive)

Game Master AdamWarnock

A band of misfits trying to make a dishonest living smuggling...

assuming they can avoid killing each other first.


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Getting Paid:

It would be interesting to note that of all the crew, the two with the least clothing to their names were Valerie Hills and Elizabeth. Val had the dress she wore to the first dinner, the outfit she had worn when she first came aboard, and a few changes of underwear. Elizabeth had even less, only owning one jumpsuit, one long-sleeved t-shirt, a pair of socks, a pair of ship slippers, and one set of underwear.

This of course has the consequence of Anton having the least clothes to wear since it was inevitable that Val would raid his closet when Elizabeth needed a clean outfit.

=== Back to your currently scheduled pre-dinner ===

For a robot with an immobile face, Francois 5-β manages to give a rather powerful glower to both Aurora and Anton.

"Fine, if you insist," he says, grating out each syllable with some effort.

He leads the four of you, to the back of the room where a large machine with a casing that's all curves (which would have sent Sirus a-raving if he'd seen it since not a one of those fancy curves was necessary) and a nearly seamless hatch in the side. In swoopy, flowing letters is the word "Stylotron". The hatch opens silently and smoothly as you approach.

"If you would be so kind," Francois tells Valerie. "Please step inside and place your clothes in the marked bin and change into the robe provided."

Finding a new Doc (Sirus):

The haggling goes well. You've managed to get Malone to agree to four of the jobs, and he'll do the other one in exchange for taking a job for him, namely running mining equipment out to a station called Rock Bottom.

"While you're there, get in touch with Julian Turnelle, she runs several businesses and has her fingers in more pies than anyone else out there. She knows how to find a man named James Ka'Shoon. He's a good doc, but he had a bit of bad luck and needed to lay low," Malone tells you as he sips his wine. "Careful though, Sirus. Madame Turnelle is not to be taken lightly. She may be at the top now, but there's a reason she went from running brothels to information gathering rings and has been at the top for so long. I'd hate to hear the People's Smuggler's of Judea lost another crew to carelessness."

Rock Bottom:

The crowd is indeed thick, and before long, the man taking applications calls out.

"A'right! That's it, no more jobs fer ya."

There's a general grumble as the crowd begins to clear out. You and Sela are near the front, after having pushed your way through, which means that you two are at the back of the crowd leaving the compartment for the gate.

"Guess it's moot point, now. Well, unless you wa--" Sela stops mid-word, her eyes narrowing.

"Stick close, something's not right."

The compartment is empty, far sooner than it should have been. There's a tension in the air, and the already flickering lights flicker more violently.

Anja, roll Notice for me, please.


GM Screen:

Goons Notice: 4d3 - 8 ⇒ (3, 2, 3, 2) - 8 = 2
Sela Notice: 4d3 - 8 ⇒ (3, 2, 1, 3) - 8 = 1


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

A tit for a tat:

Sirus had nearly everything he needed. Nearly. That job Malone was holding (intentionally, no doubt) was the reactor pressure seals upgrade he'd been eyeing for months. The old seals were nearing their limit, and no amount of creative conditioning was going to stave off a pressure rupture forever.
He sighs. The Captain would probably be unhappy, but they needed that upgrade.
What kind of mining equipment are we talking about here...
engineering to know what this equipment is and see just how much of a spin he's putting on it: 4d3 - 8 + 4 ⇒ (3, 3, 1, 3) - 8 + 4 = 6


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Bill of Lading (Sirus):

"You can probably make better sense of this than I ever could," Malone answers, sliding a tablet over with list of items by mass. It's all legit and it appears to be parts for gas mining platforms.

"Not everything, hell, not even most of what I do, is smuggling. I need someone to deliver this or I'm going to get some massive penalties levied against me, and the freighter that was supposed to deliver this dropped the job when something more lucrative came around. Make this delivery and I'll cover your costs during the overhaul. Do we have a deal?"


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

Popular carrier:
Sirus looks over the bill carefully, then agrees. You got yourself a transport. It'll take some time to load, some of this is heavy stuff, but we'll get it done.


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Rock Bottom:

Notice: 4d3 - 8 + 3 ⇒ (3, 2, 2, 2) - 8 + 3 = 4

Anja, too, notices the compartment emptying, and she freezes in mid-stride, looking around to see what’s up. She looks down at the shocker in her boot-holster, checking to make sure it's there.

Short one, since I don’t know what I’m looking for/at.


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A done deal (Sirus):

"I have no doubt you will. I should have everything ready to load in a few hours, that should give you enough time to finish off-loading your cargo and configure your holds for the equipment. Payment will be the standard fee of fifteen thousand. I believe that's fair, don't you?" Malone smiles at you as he swirls his drink in the glass.

Rock Bottom and heading south:

The shocker is right where you had left it, but that does nothing to keep the hairs on the back of your neck from standing on end. Your eyes sweep the compartment, and then it clicks.

Men in suits, black suits and shades. Men far too crisply dressed. Men moving with too much purpose, too much coordination. Men reaching into suit coats for weapons. You have a second to act, but only a second. There are three men walking towards you and Sela, and Sela's attention is on the wrong side of the entryway.

Time slows down, your mind races and takes in the scene as adrenaline floods your system. You notice the Flickering Lights, and Dripping Sprinkler Heads. The suits will be blocking the entrance to the compartment, but perhaps you could escape through the vent you spy. Even better, the Battered Chairs would provide you cover and precious seconds to make good on your escape.

What do you do?

Okay, so this is how combat works in Fate. Whoever rolls the highest notice, or relevant skill if you can make the argument, goes first, then the next highest, and the next highest, and so on and so forth. This is going to get clunky in PBP, so what I'm going to do is this. I'll roll once for each group of enemies and any major NPCs. I'll also roll notices for all of you if I know you are about to be ambushed or something, otherwise it's up to you. After I have everyone's results I'll split you up into blocks based on how you did compared to the bad guys. Everyone in a block goes at roughly the same time, though it's first post, first action.

That brings me to the next thing. In a conflict, the scene will have situational aspects. You can create situational aspects by creating an advantage and doing well. Of course these things are double-edged swords, and could come home to bite you. You can also change an aspect if you'd like by performing an action.

Speaking of actions, rounds in Fate do not have a set time. They can represent a few seconds to a few hours depending on the situation. Also, there's no maps either. Beyond what is narratively consistent, there's really no restrictions on what the situation is like. If you want to say one of the seats is loose and you can easily rip it from its mounting, then go for it.

Also, if you see I'm doing something wrong, let me know and I'll do my best to correct any mistakes.


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

Signed, sealed, delivering:

Fifteen plus expenses while refitting. Sirus counters quickly. Stars know I'm paying you enough for the rest of it. Still, he raises his snack in agreement.


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Rock Bottom:

Shoot: 4d3 - 8 + 2 ⇒ (3, 2, 3, 2) - 8 + 2 = 4

Anja reacts quickly, recognizing the weapons these men are going for from three separate firefights in The Last Meal in her tenure, and drops into a half-kneel, ripping her shocker from its holster so hard it pops a rivet. She spends only a split second on each target. The men? Not enough juice to drop all of them. The water? no telling what it's connected to. The Flickering Lights, though...

*pwap!*

*Kzap-zzzzzzzzzzzzPOP*

50,000 volts rush into the lighting system, tripping the breakers and casting the compartment into an eerie twilight. A few residual pops echo as the surge fades over a few seconds, the only light coming from a few emergency lights and a console in the corner.

Creating an advantage with my shoot. Calling it Darkened Room. That good?


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Sirus:

"I'm sure," Malone says, "though if we both want to avoid a late delivery penalty, I'm sure there's somewhere else you are needed, yes."
And end scene.

Rock Bottom:

Oh yes, I was hoping you'd do that.

The wiring in this section of the station must be even shoddier than normal. When the lights are overcharged, they blow in more than just the compartment. The entire docking arm on the widdershins side of the station goes dark as the electrical systems fail. The room isn't just darkened, the entire section is in Black Out Conditions. On the downside, the power pack in your shocker is fried from the feedback and it's nearly pitch black. On the upside, the goons can't see you. Which may be why they decide to all aim for Sela instead of you. Three hasty blast thunder in the small compartment as three flashes briefly illuminate it.

Suit 1 Shoot vs. Sela: 4d3 - 8 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (3, 1, 1, 2) - 8 + 1 - 2 = -2
Suit 2 Shoot vs. Sela: 4d3 - 8 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (3, 3, 3, 1) - 8 + 1 - 2 = 1
Suit 3 Shoot vs. Sela: 4d3 - 8 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (1, 1, 3, 1) - 8 + 1 - 2 = -3

Note, because Sela basically got caught flat-footed, she isn't able to take full advantage of her Athletics skill to dodge the incoming fire.
Sela Athletics vs Suit 1: 4d3 - 8 ⇒ (1, 3, 2, 3) - 8 = 1
Sela Athletics vs Suit 2: 4d3 - 8 ⇒ (3, 2, 2, 2) - 8 = 1
Sela Athletics vs Suit 3: 4d3 - 8 ⇒ (1, 1, 1, 2) - 8 = -3

Sela manages to dive out of the way of the mostly unaimed fire, but slams into the chairs and has the Breath Knocked Out of Her. The strap on the duffel with long, slender, and heavy objects snaps as it catches on the chair and is flung across the room. You can barely see Sela struggling to catch her breath on the floor near the wall ten feet from you.

"Damn! Don't let them get away! They know too much," one of the suits calls out in a clipped, if strained, voice.

"Yes sir!" comes the reply in stereo.

What do you do?


Getting Paid:

Yeah. That's exactly how it would go down.

"Let's get this over with," Val mutters, stepping into the Stylotron and getting changed accordingly. "Right, so what know, Fran-swah?"


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Rock Bottom:
Anja looks at the ventilation shaft, then at her friend, then at the shaft again. She thumbs the button on her shocker, then tosses the burnt-out hunk of junk into her pocket as she dives for the chairs herself.

"Whadayya mean, we know too much? I'm just a waitress! We're just trying to leave this station!"

While she waits for the question to (hopefully) slow down their attackers, she points at the ventilation shaft and mouths a few words at Sela. "That way." Taking her own advice, she starts crawling slowly behind the chairs, aiming for the shortest exposed distance between her and her potential escape.

Stealth: 4d3 - 8 + 1 ⇒ (2, 3, 2, 3) - 8 + 1 = 3

Since the room is in Black-out Conditions, I'm hoping for an advantage to my Stealth roll, or something. I'm going to try to get out of here. We can find the heavy thing later, if it's around.


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GM Screen:

Suit 1 Notice: 4d3 - 8 - 2 ⇒ (2, 1, 1, 1) - 8 - 2 = -5
Suit 2 Notice: 4d3 - 8 - 2 ⇒ (3, 3, 3, 2) - 8 - 2 = 1
Suit 3 Notice: 4d3 - 8 - 2 ⇒ (3, 3, 3, 3) - 8 - 2 = 2

Suit 3 Shoot: 4d3 - 8 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (3, 1, 2, 3) - 8 + 1 - 2 = 0
Anja Athletics: 4d3 - 8 + 1 ⇒ (2, 1, 1, 1) - 8 + 1 = -2


Rock Bottom:

"You know that we think you know too much! That's good enough for us," the leader shouts out.

As you crawl for the vent, you hear Sela wheezing softly as she drags herself along.

Sela Physique (Target: 2): 4d3 - 8 + 2 ⇒ (3, 1, 3, 1) - 8 + 2 = 2

"need... bah-bag... ha-has... guns..." she wheezes out in a thready whisper just as a shot goes off. and ricochets off the floor. You can just barely make out the shape of the duffel in the middle of the compartment.


Getting Paid:

Francois is a blur of steel as the robot begins working with thread, cloth, and scissors.

Meanwhile, in the Sytlotron

Val, you hear Francois' voice come from some well hidden, high-quality speakers.

"Relax, mademoiselle. Francois is a god of fashion, and I shall make you a fire-haired Venus," he tells you as a set of arms extends from cubbies hidden by seamless panels. "First we shall take care of your lovely skin. Such delicacy should not be treated so harshly!"

Thus begins the most bizarre and fastest spa treatement of your life. It lasts barely fifteen minutes before you find yourself fully bathed, dressed, and styled in front of Anton, Aurora, and Elizabeth. A red dress, trimmed in black now caresses your every curve and flatters your figure. Your hair is piled high in a spectacularly complex coif with a few strands flying artistically loose. The worst part is probably the three-inch black stilettos on your feet.

"Magnifique! Who is next? You?" Francois points to Aurora, his enjoyment getting the better of the cultivated disdain from earlier.


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Rock Bottom:

"Guns?" Anja looks over her shoulder for a second, eyeing the bag in the middle of the room. [smaller]"You owe me an explanation for all of this."

She takes another look, gathers up her courage, and throws herself toward the center of the room, landing awkwardly. The Black-out Conditions mask the worst of her fall, though, and she finds herself on the ground near the duffel bag.

Athletics: 4d3 - 8 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (1, 2, 2, 1) - 8 + 1 + 2 = 1

I'm going to invoke the Black-out Conditions and use a FATE point to add 2 to my roll.


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Is anyone there?


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

Just making my way back to reputable parts of the station before I inform the captain of my quadruple success in securing major repairs, obtaining another job, getting our berthing and atmo-docking fees paid for the refits, and blowing my entire share and the ship's repair fund at the same time.


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Getting Paid:

Aurora and Anton both get a similar treatment after stepping into the Stylotron.

Aurora comes out wearing a silk gown that fades from white at the top, through blue, all the way to black at the bottom. Her normally wild hair has been tamed and styled into a strange, flame-like shape.

Anton finds himself in a pair of pants that are just the wrong side of uncomfortable and a shirt that is far too flowy for him. A black cloak and hat, both lined in crimson, complete the look.

Elizabeth, after a brief argument with Francois about her "headphones" (No! I can't take them off!) is sent through the Stylotron and...

Not sure what to stick Elizabeth in. Next person to post gets to decide what she is wearing to dinner.

Dressed and ready for dinner, you and Francois are lead to the dining room, where Anthu Zuckerman and a few others you don't know are waiting. After Francois' entirely too long, dramatic, and flamboyant speech and introductions, you find yourselves alone with one person you know and several you don't.

Unless you're Elizabeth, then everyone is unknown to you.


Rock Bottom:

Sela just nods, still trying to catch her breath. As you lunge for the gunbag, more gunfire goes off.

Suit 1 Shoot (Needs a +4 or better): 4d3 - 8 + 1 ⇒ (3, 1, 2, 3) - 8 + 1 = 2
Suit 2 Shoot (Needs a +4 or better): 4d3 - 8 + 1 ⇒ (3, 3, 2, 3) - 8 + 1 = 4
Suit 3 Shoot (Needs a +4 or better): 4d3 - 8 + 1 ⇒ (1, 1, 2, 1) - 8 + 1 = -2

Okay. Anja, you take one stress, but you get to the bag. What happened? Did you get winged? Run into something? Trip?

Meanwhile, Sela drags herself across the floor to the air vent and tries to rip it off.

Physique (Needs a +4 this round): 4d3 - 8 + 2 ⇒ (2, 2, 2, 3) - 8 + 2 = 3

With a grunt and the popping of cheap bolts, the vent is free, exposing the air ducts and data runs. Now you have a Handy Escape Route

What do you do?


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Rock Bottom:

If the sudden lights of muzzle flashes and sounds of gunshots aren't enough to convince Anja that these men are serious about killing Sela (and her, by proximity), a sudden, ripping pain across her shoulder-blade sends the point driving home. For a moment, she freezes behind the bag, checking to make sure nothing's too badly damaged. Then, she grabs the duffel-bag, makes another leap for safety, and heads for the Handy Escape Route.

Time to go, Sela!" Anja tosses the other woman the bag before scooping up her own and ducks into the air ducts.

Dark Archive

Viv: HP: 20/20 | +5/d6 x2 | AC: 15| Human Robotiscist Mech 2 | HP 16/16 SP: 12/12 RP: 5/5 | EAC: 13 KAC: 14 | Init: +7 | Perc: +5 | F: +3 R: +6 W: +0 | Atk:+4/d6

Gettin' paid:
Anton keeps wanting to adjust his junk, but realizes that in mixed company (Val excepted) it might not be the best idea. He just keeps shifting his hips a little to try and compensate.

Almost the same thing for the shirt. He comes close to just ripping the thing off, but then his hand graces the cloak which is soft as ermine fur. The hat seems to be some kind ancient tri-corner thing, but it's not hot on his head, and he swears he can -hear- the thing scream to be taken off in a sweeping bow.

When he first sees Aurora, he instinctively reaches up a hand and starts "Well, hello there. I'm Anton, Captain of the S--" but then something in his brain kicks in and he isn't really able to finish the sentence as he realizes this is not some acctractive lady he's never met before, but Aurora, just Aurora. He just mutters, "mmMMmBwuahhh" and leaves it at that.

Elizabeth comes out (after some hesitation) in a night-black spandex cat suit punctuated with swirls of crimson, so it looks like she's on fire when she walks. The outfit is accentuated with a bright orange feathered boa, and a too-small purse of assaultingly bright blue.
The suit is obviously designed to enhance someone who knows what the word "slink" means. So while accurate on a strategic sense, on a tactical sense Anton bites his lip until it bleeds to keep from laughing. He's oddly intimidated and aroused in a way not entirely comfortable, so he turns and offers Aurora his arm simply to take his mind off it.

At dinner he reflexively makes introductions all around and makes a point to shake the hand of everyone in the room, just out of habit.


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Rock Bottom:

Sela wastes no time talking and is through the vent and into the ducts right behind you. She fumbles in her bag for something and pulls it out a moment later as the two of you make your way down the duct. She tosses it behind her and pulls you down another duct that splits off. A few seconds later there's a loud boom and the whuff of overpressure. Something in the shoddily maintained infrastructure still works, though and a heavy blast door slams down behind you.

"That should give us time to slip away," Sela pants. "Questions after that."

A few hours later, in the bowels of the Gamma sector of the station, the two of you come to an exhausted stop in a small alcove that looks like it's been used by a squatter, or several dozen.

"Should be safe now. Hoped I'd never have to crawl in ductwork, and now that's the only reason we're alive," Sela says as she slumps against the wall.

Getting Paid:

Paraphrasing here, since I'm trying to get you guys back to the ship.

The dinner is, as expected, delicious, though Elizabeth is distinctly unhappy and uncomfortable throughout the whole event. Thankfully, she's well mannered enough that it's not half as noticeable as Aurora's constant corrections of Val's account of the events in the Garaxia System. After dessert, and a near miss with Aurora and the after-dinner wine, Anthur congratulates the four of you and finishes transferring the payment to your account, which is now showing a tremendous balance of 0.0001 credits. Looking at the transaction history, you see a big transaction with Alta Station Drydock Services LTD. and a smaller one with Texa-Shell Energy.

Something tells you, Anton, that you need to have a chat with your engineer.


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

Ally that time anton gets a message reading, "Next job secured. Meet in hangar. Will be prepping the partitions loading"


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Rock Bottom:

Anja spends the hours moving through the ductwork fuming silently, glaring daggers at the other woman's back. By the time they arrive in the little alcove, the blood's dried against her shoulder, forming a crust that cracks every time she has to climb up or down another ladder. Accordingly, she spends the first few minutes of their downtime ignoring Sela and tending to her shoulder, as much to cool down a bit as to check for damage.

"What are you into, Sela? Guns? Strangers in suits shooting at us? Tell me what I've been dragged into, and how it's going to get me off this station."


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Rock Bottom:

Because I don't want you to have to deal with a Cliffhanger for the next few days

"Here. This'll 'elp," Sela says as she tosses an ointment tube at you. It does help with the pain, though it stings like crazy the first few seconds.

You're back to full. No stress, well, at least physical stress.

Anja wrote:
"What are you into, Sela? Guns? Strangers in suits shooting at us? Tell me what I've been dragged into, and how it's going to get me off this station."

"I'm in the same boat as you, Anja. I don't know why they're shooting at us, though if I had to guess it's some politician with more power than sense," Sela replies, her fatigue clear in her voice. "As for the guns, well, call them my severance package from my last job. I was in one of the special forces commando units, until my CO stranded me here after an op."

She rummages around the bag and pulls out a pistol. "ever handled one of these before?"


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Okay, I'm back. I'll be pushing things Monday night. Also, go ahead and refresh your Fate Points if you are below your refresh.


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Sorry, no post tonight. Will try to have on tomorrow.


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Everyone not named Anja:

Within an hour of arriving at the Angel's berth, you are loaded and ready to travel into the black. Your destination, a ramshackle station with no name, save Rock Bottom.

I'm assuming that Sirus fills everyone in. Feel free to pester him with questions. :)


Anja:

Anja wrote:
"What are you into, Sela? Guns? Strangers in suits shooting at us? Tell me what I've been dragged into, and how it's going to get me off this station."

"I'm in the same boat as you, Anja. I don't know why they're shooting at us, though if I had to guess it's some politician with more power than sense," Sela replies, her fatigue clear in her voice. "As for the guns, well, call them my severance package from my last job. I was in one of the special forces commando units, until my CO stranded me here after an op."

She rummages around the bag and pulls out a pistol. "Ever handled one of these before?"

So Anja, have you used a pistol before?


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Rock Bottom:

"Not in a long time. Back on Uller IV, the 'patriotic duty of all comrades' was a year of 'military service', but it was mostly just the girl scouts, really."

Anja takes the pistol, checks to make sure the safety's on, and then holds it by the grip in something close to a Weaver stance. After she's satisfied it'll do, she looks in the duffel herself, finding a spare magazine and shoving both it and the gun into one of her pockets. "I'm still not staying on this station. We'll try the docking bay again tomorrow. Until then, I'm going to get some rest."


The Sweet Doomed Angel:

Valerie's first port of call is to the captain's quarters, specifically Anton's wardrobe, eager to get out of the dress and into something for comfortable. After leaving the offending garment on a hanger - it was rather nice, she had to admit, even if wearing it was akin to torture - she helps herself to a shirt and the loosest pair of pants she can find, which are still less-than-flattering, but better than nothing.

"So, Sirus," she says to the engineer as the crew prepares for the next trip, "Mind reminding us exactly why we're flying out to this particularly charming destination?"


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The Sweet Doomed Angel:

Elizabeth is right there with Val, stripping out of the ridiculous catsuit as fast as the clingy fabric will allow.

"I. Bloody. Hate. That. Robot!"

A few minutes later, with Val's help, she's dressed in a t-shirt, an open flannel shirt, and a pair of cargo pants that are just a little tight on her hips.

"It's orbiting a gas giant called Pea Soup by the locals. According to the manifest, we're taking some gas mining equipment, unless this is like your last job."

Looking around at the others, she adds, "Anton's notions of computer security would have hackers laughing themselves silly. His journal's in plain text for crying out loud!"

Rock Bottom:

You find that there's another pistol, which Sela is in the process of grabbing herself, a shotgun, and what looks like combat rifle. There's also another two grenades and what must be the next best thing to fifteen kilos of ammunition.

"Alright, I'll keep watch for a bit, but if you don't mind, can you keep a lookout in a few hours? I'm beat too and I'm going to need to sleep some time," Sela says as you get comfortable.


Fate Points: 1

Angel:

”Plain text is silly” Aurora nods in agreement. She’s parked herself on the floor even though she’s still wearing her dress from dinner. ”The best thing to do is to write everything in a code only you know, on a handheld that you keep hidden and rigged to blow up if someone tries to bypass its security measures. I tried to explain that to the Captain but he said it was a security risk. He has some things backwards”

Val:

Aurora has sent you a two page paper discussing the theory that Anton and Elizabeth are beginning an ‘inevitable courtship phase’. Her main source for this argument is The Perils of Pamela, one of your more… risque books. She claims that the crew’s rescue of Elizabeth, combined with a dinner in which Anton had to wear a puffy shirt, will escalate into a marriage between the two ‘within four to six months’. She’s asking for your feedback since you are the ‘Courtship Expert’.


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

the Angel:

Money, of course. Sirus reaponds to Valerie just before ramming a moveable bulkhead into place with his shoulder. We do this run and the berthing and airdock fees will be waved while we're getting retrofitted and repaired. Those fees are worth as much as the run. Plus were getting standard fare to boot!

Dark Archive

Viv: HP: 20/20 | +5/d6 x2 | AC: 15| Human Robotiscist Mech 2 | HP 16/16 SP: 12/12 RP: 5/5 | EAC: 13 KAC: 14 | Init: +7 | Perc: +5 | F: +3 R: +6 W: +0 | Atk:+4/d6

Sweet Doomed Angel:
Anton had held back a bit returning form the dinner, quite unconsciously. However, he had to admit to himself that, with the latest update, applied to the latest in technological advancements, that, yes, indeed, those birds do look angrier.

He gets to his room just in time to see Val and Liz'beth leave wearing his favorite shirt and his favorite goin'-out pants. Silently admiring the view, he had to admit to himself that if he didn't know she was a robot, he'd admit that the pants looked a good deal better on her than on him.

Approaching his well-looted closet, he sighed taking off the fine suit, and accepted that, yes, the outfit with brown suspenders would do nicely...again.

He walks into the room and catches the last of the conversation. "But 'Rora you wanted to hook up a 2 kiloton ion bomb. Something about how the "enhanced danger" would then drive us to makes sure no one even tried to break in. Call it too much "collateral risk" if that makes you feel all warm an' sudsy."

"An Sirus, money is good, but so is -not- spending it. Please do at least give yer Cap'n a heads up before spending approximately all of the dollars."

He scans the gathered crew out of habit, looking at their faces seeing if there's any issue he should address. He catches himself 'accidentally' staring at Elizabeth filling out his pants and rips his eyes away. 'She's a robot gorram it. Same as a fashun store man-e-kin. 'Course, some o' those manikins -do- fill out quite nicely and the way the catsuit really showed off the taunt lines of her STOP IT.'

"Well, if there are no other issues, 'Rora please get up 'cause th' cleanin' bill for that get-up must be inconceivable, and Imma gonna lay in a course to orbit Pea Soup. Ship won't get there on it's own. Well, mostly it will, but still."

He goes to the cockpit and gets the proverbial show on the proverbial road.


The Sweet Doomed Angel:

"Tell you what, first thing I do when I'm getting paid is calling a stop to some rock with a few nice boutiques, and get some new duds," Val mutters, shaking her head. "We will be getting paid soon, right? I was expecting a little more than a bit of slinky satin from the last job." With the confidence with which she speaks, particularly of her pay, it's almost as if she's meant to be part of the crew rather than a tag-along.

Anton:

As Anton heads to the cockpit, she follows, catching him in one of the many small corridors and halls of the ship (the one with the leaky pipe and the clean rectangle where some godawful drawing had hung not too long ago by what had once been a form of adhesive but had likely been reduced to sheer stubbornness, and which she suspected now resided in Aurora's room). "She's not human upstairs, captain," she reminds him with perhaps a little more edge to her voice than is necessary. "Don't think I didn't catch you staring at her back there. As it is, 'Ora reckons the two of you are beginning an 'inevitable courtship phase' or something - left me a rather detailed paper on the subject - and who you choose to fool around with may be none of my business, true. But while her body's human, sure enough, what makes her tick sure ain't. Don't go leering at the poor girl." Her demeanor changing as she takes a step back, half-turning to head back to the common area, she looks almost apologetic - as apologetic as someone who's been bending and stretching the truth since she set foot on the Angel can look, anyway. "Sorry for stealin' your clothes again," she adds stiffly, staring at the wall. "You'll get 'em back eventually. Or I'll just keep taking 'em until you've only got those pants left. You wear 'em well."

With a smirk, she turns to head back down the hall. "Holler if you need me to 'make the talky' to anyone," she calls over her shoulder. "I've got some explaining to do to 'Ora..."

Aurora:

Val doesn't choose to make her presence known straight away, instead electing to stand in the doorway until Aurora notices (which could take some time). Once spotted, she fixes eye contact, in the manner usually reserved for marks. "So. Care explaining to me exactly why you think I'm the 'courtship expert', why you saw fit to send me that rather detailed paper, and, oh yes, how you know about The Perils of Pamela?" After a moment of long silence, her face contorting, she adds, "And, if you'd be so kind, whether you thought Pam should have been with the rancher or the tailor's son?"


Kassen Battle Maps | RotRL Battle Maps

Anja? You there?


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

the angel:

You can't eat money, captain. And these modifications will pay for themselves, promise.


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Could have sworn I posted! Damn forum-goblins...Here's a super-short one, just to keep things moving.

Rock Bottom:
Anja nods reluctantly at the other woman, staring skeptically at the arsenal in her bag before turning away. "Right. Sure, yeah. Wake me up when it's my turn, I guess." She finds a comfortable-ish spot away from the edge of the alcove and drifts off.

Dark Archive

Viv: HP: 20/20 | +5/d6 x2 | AC: 15| Human Robotiscist Mech 2 | HP 16/16 SP: 12/12 RP: 5/5 | EAC: 13 KAC: 14 | Init: +7 | Perc: +5 | F: +3 R: +6 W: +0 | Atk:+4/d6

Val:
As Val turns away, Anton says to her, "That a fact? Alright, I'll try t' stare somewhere other than th' bot." Unrelatedly, he keeps staring at Val. "An' just so I can formally plan my wardrobe for th' next week, when this is over you an' me should have us a sit-down, talk about who would be gettin' in to, or out of, what an' how much."

If the nonsensical psycho-babble was followed by a wink-and-a-smile, it could only be described as "Schrodinger-esque."

He turns away disappears into the cockpit.

Angel:
"An' it can get kinda hard t' eat promises, so I hear. We'll roll th' dice on this one, but see to it that more eyes than two have at least seen th' plan before committing the whole bank account, m'kay?"

Barring anymore interruptions Anton drops into the pilot seat, cranks it all the way back, and after some loosely inputted flight plans, punches the accelerator.


Kassen Battle Maps | RotRL Battle Maps

The Angel:

At Aurora's mention of "proper" security measures, Elizabeth's eyes grow wide.

"Oooooookay?"

Never, and I mean NEVER, let Aurora anywhere near my head.

A few days later.

When you arrive at Rock Bottom, the station is a hive of activity, if the comm-net is anything to go by. Apparently there is a manhunt in progress, and for your safety, you are put into a parking orbit a few hundred kilometers from the station. Fortunately, it appears that this will not be affecting the unloading of the goods, since Rock Bottom lacks the facilities to unload the cargo in a shirtsleeve environment.

Anja:

The past few days have been nerve-wracking. Despite numerous attempts, you and Sela have had no luck even getting close to a shuttle heading off station.

Today, though, Sela has a plan.

"So, I've noticed that they aren't watching the suit storage and airlocks as closely as they are the shuttle and ship berths. Feel up for a space-walk?"


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Rock Bottom:
Anja's eyes narrow, a habit she's gotten into lately around Sela. "I'd rather put on the racing stripes dress again."

After another moment or two of thinking, she frowns, crosses her arms over her chest, and looks away. "Fine, but if my eyeballs get sucked out of my head, I hope those guys catch you. Where are the nearest suits?"


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

angel:
Sirus begins prepping the bays for depressurization and running routine checks of the transfer systems. Handing off cargo in vacuum like this wasn't uncommon, but it had to be precisely done. One wrong more and tons of mass could be sent spinning.
Would you mind contacting that lady while we wait, captain? No need to loiter, after all.


Kassen Battle Maps | RotRL Battle Maps

Okay, moving on.

Rock Bottom:

"Why? Life's more interesting with me around anyway," Sela replies with a grin."'Sides, your pretty eyes would freeze if your suit lost pressure."

The ex-commando pulls out a data-pad that the two of you pilfered from a sleeping engineer, right after the two of you put him to sleep. She taps a few keys, and then all the mirth drains from her face. She slumps, her head hanging low as she passes the data-pad to you.

"On the other side of the station."

Angel:

A few minutes later, you have Julian Turnelle on a "reasonably secure" com call.

"What is it? If you haven't noticed we're all a little busy here," a still attractive woman in her forties or fifties (or later if she's been on the receiving end of some life extension treatments) says rather impatiently.


Kassen Battle Maps | RotRL Battle Maps

Hello?


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

Sorry. Helping family move. I'll try to get an official summary of the goal up today, but the gist is we have a standard job shifting mining equipment as a means to her is to our new medic.


Portrait FATE Points: 2
Skills:
+4: Investigate, +3: Lore, Notice, +2: Shoot, Decieve, Provoke, +1: Athletics, Drive, Will, Stealth

Rock Bottom:
Anja looks at the data pad for a few moments, then shakes her head. "Yeah, but see these fan stations? I know it doesn't look like we can get through them, but if they're the same model they used for the labs at university, there's a kill switch inside that'll shut them down. If we restart them once we're through, we shouldn't be detected."

She starts crawling down the ventilation shaft toward the suits, only to freeze again. "Of course, if they're *not* the same model, we could have problems." A few flicks of the data-pad and she's looking for schematics.

Investigate: 4d3 - 8 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (1, 1, 1, 3) - 8 + 4 + 2 = 4

I'm going to invoke the aspect Former Part-Time Bioengineering Student. She spent a lot of time working in and setting up well-ventilated labs, so she'd know a little about the type of systems that could be used. Maybe enough to know how to find the schematics. Spending a Fate Point for the +2.


Kassen Battle Maps | RotRL Battle Maps

I was starting to worry. :)
I can't really move this ahead since it depends on what you guys do.

Dark Archive

Viv: HP: 20/20 | +5/d6 x2 | AC: 15| Human Robotiscist Mech 2 | HP 16/16 SP: 12/12 RP: 5/5 | EAC: 13 KAC: 14 | Init: +7 | Perc: +5 | F: +3 R: +6 W: +0 | Atk:+4/d6

Heh. Sorry, looks like Sirus might be busy, so I'll just do my default plan: Start acting like I know WTH is going on and hope things go well.

What? Hoping ain't a plan? =)

Anton gets on the comm to answer the attractive young/old/ancient woman. "And a mighty fine ni howh to you as well, Ms. Turnelle. I think you'll be able to fit us in. We got a whole big hold full'a minin' parts an' equipment that I hear is needed around here.

Also, if our good friend James Ka'Shoon is sober an' wearing underwear, would you be able to tell him that some individuals in need of a shiny new doc are in town and not asking questions?"


Kassen Battle Maps | RotRL Battle Maps

Rock Bottom:

"Given our current record with problems, I'm praying to anyone that'll listen to let there be no problems," Sela replies.

Thankfully, the fans are indeed the same model.

Roll engineering please

The Angel:

Turnelle's expression turns sour at the mention of James Ka'Shoon.

"He's dead. Killed a few days ago," she answers.

Dark Archive

Viv: HP: 20/20 | +5/d6 x2 | AC: 15| Human Robotiscist Mech 2 | HP 16/16 SP: 12/12 RP: 5/5 | EAC: 13 KAC: 14 | Init: +7 | Perc: +5 | F: +3 R: +6 W: +0 | Atk:+4/d6

Angel:
Anton is a bit taken aback. He had counted on being able to pick a broke-and-grateful doc at this stop. It was a set-back, but there was still business to be done.

"Well I am powerful sorry to hear our dear and always level-headed friend James got himself perished. I'll be sure heft a cold one in his honor.

Since that won't be gettin' in th' way, how's about we offload this equipment then? Where ya want it?"

As soon as he's given off-load instructions, he starts to ease the ship into the designated area.


Wounds:5/12 Crit 0 | Fate 3/3 | Currently: fatigue0 | insanity 0 corr 15

Basically, this mission is a milk run to pick up our wayward bioengineering student and her creepy ex-special ops friend and maybe get a nifty tag on the Angel because of all the refits. I honestly can't remember much more. It's been a crazy month.


Kassen Battle Maps | RotRL Battle Maps

Angel:

"That equipment is bound for the mining platforms. I deal in information, not hardware, at any rate. If you are looking for a doctor, I know of someone that would be perfect for the job, assuming that you can get her off station and can repay the favor," Madame Turnelle informs Anton.

Anja, Aurora, Tavid, you still there?


Fate Points: 1

Still here, just playing catchup on everything in life. Anja posted that they're off the forums for a couple of weeks and to bot them as needed

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