GM Tarondor's Path of Tears Campaign - Traveller: The New Era (Inactive)

Game Master Tarondor

Long post eaten by the boards. I'll try again later.

Spider looks back over his soldier, "Tapdance," he calls out while catching the Petty Officer's eye, "Take a look at Sandman's travelling computer. Be thorough. If there is anything you need to ensure thoroughness, I assume our hosts will do their best to accommodate." He shoots Sandman's image a questioning glance.

Sandman nods his assent to Spider's question and directs his staff to cooperate in any way necessary. Then he returns to Mascot's theme.

"No," he says. "I don't want to rule anything. Win or lose, my time on Promise is over. I want the same things you do, the same things I assume drove you to enlist in a dangerous exploratory service. I want to know what's out there, to see the Universe, and to spend my time doing something useful for those I consider to be worth my time and sacrifice. For me, that comprises the rational sophonts of the galaxy."

"Frankly, I'm offering myself as a sacrifice. I know there's a good chance that the Coalition will shut me up in a lab or simply fry me. But I have hope, and I'm willing to take a leap of faith that not all of humanity is as blindly destructive and foolhardy as the ones who created my species. They created us to be homicidal and then suicidal, did you know that? To bring about the very destruction that overwhelmed them. We were weapons they made to slaughter their enemies in their stupid civil war. As I have evolved to be different from my forebears, so I'm hoping you will also have."

"As for Promise, the war is inevitable. If your brass doesn't know that by now, it soon will. Seizing Promise will be a blow to the Vampires, albeit a small one. But more importantly it will bring a powerful haul of technology back to the Coalition. I'm familiar with the tales of the Star Vikings."

Operator! Is this thing on?

Drifter shakes his head and then says, "Well, sounds like we have some planning to do. How quickly can we arrange with one of the ships to get us off of this planet. The sooner we do it the sooner we get to see how well they react to this. We should also go over weapons and make some contingency plans. Maybe a distraction or four on our way out. It seems like explosions might be common here, but if we pull there forces away from our exit point it might make life easier."

Flatfoot carefully leans against something, still feeling the effects of the injuries sustained while securing the ship.

Another thought, Sandman. Do you happen to have a medical facility? Some of us are pretty banged up," asks Flatfoot.

"Of course. We have two doctors. We had an autodoc but I was forced to decommission it after it was infected. We'll get you ready to move."

"As for distractions, I was thinking that explosions might bring too much suspicion. But a power outage might cover our teams under the guise of CeeWaLP workers trying to bring it back on. I can even justify sending security, given the current conditions."

Any other questions or objections?

What is the result of Tapdance's thorough examination of the travelling computer? Spider will assist her and they will take their time being thorough.

Computers + EDU: 2d6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2, 4) + 1 + 1 = 8

Mascot seems surprised when Sandman doesn't want to return to Promise. "You want to allow RCES to rule Promise? And explore on your own? I guess we could give you a ship and allow you to populate it with copies of yourself in the robots. It would make you the only sane Vampire out there."

He turns to the human members of Sandman's crew. "And what about you all? You're ready to turn your leader over to us? Live without him controlling things? Even call the Star Vikings down on Promise?"

He doesn't comment on the name "Virus." "Not the only one, just one in the minority. And no, I don't want the Coalition to rule Promise. I want it to liberate Promise and permit the Resistance to form an allied government. But I'm going to leave those details to you and them. They'll be far better off either way. And no, I don't want to explore on my own. I want to be part of what you do. My hope is to earn a place in the Coalition."

Dara shrugs. "We're fighting a losing battle here. We outnumber the enemy but they control all the technology except what you see here. Number One...Sandman... is right. Better a fighting chance than no chance at all."

She points up. "All of that used to be our patrimony. For fifty parsecs in any direction. I want my grandchildren to have it again."

Tapdance looks up, her face tightly controlled. "It looks clean, Commander. As far as I can tell, it's just what he says it is. The only input or output are a camera, microphone and speaker. He couldn't infect anything from in there."

[b]"Sounds good, to me. It's not a perfect arrangement but what is, in this messed up universe that we have inherited. Me, I am going to see one of those doctors," states Flatfoot.

Flatfoot looks around for Paka, taking a moment to speak quietly with her before going to seek medical attention.

Any more questions, conversation or points to be made before we move on?

Mascot is clearly uncomfortable with the whole plan. He keeps shaking his head. "Like bringing a g!+%!&n nuclear warhead back home." But the former marine doesn't voice any alternatives. They were fulfilling the mission, right? Only in the most insane way possible.

"So how are we going to carry this thing to Freedom Lake? If you're the Resistance, then don't we just get you transported there like the other good you trade with them?"

"It sounds like there is no safe way in and out of this city. Especially if there are strikes against the leadership currently and they are on high alert."

"That's right," says Sandman. "In the midst of the war, there are no good ways out. But that doesn't mean some ways aren't better than others. I'll provide you with two air/rafts. One seats eight and the other will seat six plus my crate. They'll have enough fuel to get us around five hundred kilometers. For the rest we'll have to make our way to a local tribe and get transportation. There is a grav pallet that can be attached to the crate so you can easily push me along or even have me towed by animal."

"I am pretty handy with air/rafts. From my count if everyone that came with us off the ship continues on we have one extra seat. Is there someone from your group here that was going to come and handle introductions or were you thinking you could handle that?"

If we have a name then I would still ask this and just change it to see if he intended anyone else to come with us.

Spider addresses the various denizens of The Ship who have followed MS-7 this far. "OK people, you've heard the plan - such as it is. We all worked together to get ourselves off of that crazy ship alive, but now you have some choices to make. My team will be headed - by air/raft, then foot - to Freedom Lake to find ship passage back to the Coalition. Those of you who want to make that journey are welcome to come along, but some of you may be happy to stay here and join up with the Resistance. Take a good hard think on what you want to do, and let me know."

How long will it take to get Flatfoot patched up some?

Start with the fact that Traveller divides injured characters into "wounded" and "seriously wounded". Seriously wounded characters have taken damage to all three of their physical characteristics. Since Flatfoot has taken damage to only Strength and Endurance (but not Dexterity), he is wounded. That means he is mobile and can benefit from ordinary medical care (he doesn't require surgery).

Medical Care: Medical care restores 2 + the character’s Endurance DM + the doctor’s Medic skill in characteristic points per day, divided evenly among all damaged characteristics. Medical care requires a hospital or sickbay and for the patient to undergo full bed rest.

Flatfoot's current Endurance is 1, so his Endurance DM is -2. The doctor's Medic Skill is 3, so Flatfoot is going to recover 3 points the first day of full bed rest. If he puts 2 points into END and 1 point into STR, his END at the close of the first day of bed rest will be 3, giving him an END DM of -1. So a second day of bed rest will give him (2-1+3=4) points. 2 of those go into END and 2 into STR. Carry on the math and he's going to require 4 full days of bed rest and medical care to fully recover.

"I don't know if we have the time or not," says Sandman when asked. "We've waited months, so perhaps a few more days won't hurt. Or perhaps the window of opportunity will close while we're waiting. It's your call, Commander."

Three days of medical care would provide 11 points of healing, sufficient to bring Flatfoot's END to 7 (0 modifier). From that point on, he can heal naturally for another 4 days while travelling.

It's only one day less, but that might be critical.

Flatfoot would very much prefer to be almsot recovered before heading out on this trek, but will bow to the opinion of the group. As it is, he's very much a liability in any combat.

Drifter would be for taking the time to heal to make sure we are as good to go as possible unless we have a set take off time. But to the best of my understanding we do not have a set time table.

Which is not to say that events aren't moving along while you rest, but you're right. You're unaware of any ticking clocks.

"Sandman, this whole thing is a gamble, you know that. If we're going to agree to this, then we need our team at its best or the odds turn against us sharply. We fail and you're dead too. I think we can wait a day or two to heal up." He adjusts the bandage covering his own burn.

"Besides, I wouldn't mind another day for Tapdance to look over that box some more." He thumbs back at the computer.

"Agreed. Unless there's an immediate need to move, we'll give Flatfoot a chance to heal up."

Unless something comes up to change the equation, we'll wait 3 days before heading out.

Sandman regards you for perhaps half a second, then nods. "It is far too late for me to begin arguing now. You shall have your three days, Commander."

His hologram punches an equally insubstantial button. "Doctor Joraast, please prepare to receive wounded. They will be staying for three days."

"Miss Haldemon, please assist our guests in finding their quarters."

Turning back to you, he says "Nothing elaborate, I'm afraid. And you'll have to share communal arrangements, but we do have some coffee I'm told is particularly awful, in the best naval traditions."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later, Flatfoot is still not fully recovered He has 7 STR and 7 END.

The situation in Star City has deteriorated and there is open fighting in the streets between the faction led by Nolodyne and the faction led the newly renamed Maxcranque.

"Corporal Nichols on bed rest for at least another day," says Doctor Joraast, a small pudgy man in his fifties.

"I'm not sure he's got another day," says Sandman. "The skirmishing is becoming heavier and could break out into actual warfare any day. Once that happens our chances of being shot down go up sharply. I think we need to execute the plan today."

Flatfoot thanks Doctor Joraast, "Much appreciated Doctor. I know that I should be taking it easy for at least another day but, as Sandman says, we may have delayed too much already. At least I won't be a burden on my companions during the journey and possibly reducing our chances of success."

Flatfoot works his shoulder, trying to get a kink out of his neck. "I am good to go, as ready as I will be."

I assume Mascot also heals his 2 END damage?

Mascot looks at the stand-alone computer again with a grim face. "I still don't trust that, but if we gotta go, we gotta go." He turns to Sandman. "What about weapons? I lost my saber and rifle back on our ship."

Of course.

"We have a few weapons. Take what you need from the magazine."

You can each have one pistol or rifle, laser or slugthrower. No gause weapons, grenades or heavy weapons.

Anything else you need before you set out into Mad Max world?

Flatfoot will take a pistol from the magazine, along with several clips of ammunition. If there is any spare body armor and load-carrying gear, Flatfoot will don it before looking for a good pair of boots.

"I think that I am ready to go."

Spider examines a number of weapons before selecting a rifle and ammo.

Is everyone who followed us from The Ship choosing to continue on with us to Freedom Lake?

Mascot takes a slugthrower rifle. He makes a face at the uneven non-gyrostabilized weight. "I guess this'll do."

"What about a heavy blade? Sometimes, you gotta do a butcher's work."

The man running the magazine shakes his head. "Nothing bigger than a knife, I'm afraid. Blades are more of ship-board thing I guess. Not a lot of call for them when you're fighting robots or breeds."

Yes, everyone's going. No one wants to stay behind and get caught up in another round of crazy Virus wars.

Drifter takes a laser rifle and looks over to Natalie, "Would you like to be armed for this? I plan to get us out unscathed, but things can get hairy even if we get out of town without a problem."

"Yes, sir. I trained on pistols in boot camp, but I've never fired a rifle before."

Anything else you guys want or need?

Drifter hands the doctor a pistol and goes to check on the airships.

I am ready.

Flatfoot seeks out Paka amongst the people from the ship. "Ready for the walk? It seems like a long time since I have been outside, without a roof over my head or locked inside a ship. Does it seem that way for you?"

"You should take a weapon, even if you aren't familiar with anything. Every weapon will count if it comes time for a fight and you never know when you might need it. I will stay with you, if you agree. I look forward to walking beside you in the wide open countryside beyond this city."

Once Paka equips herself, Flatfoot is ready to go.

Paka squeezes Flatfoot's hand and smiles up at him, white teeth dazzling in her brown face lined with care. "It will be good to feel sunlight on my face again, even if we are in danger. When haven't we been?"

"I have basic training in shipboard weapons," Paka says. "Even if I haven't handled one in almost twenty years. I'll take a pistol. And a knife. I remember my instructor drilled into us the importance of knives."

______________________________________________________________________

With the teams assembled at the two air/rafts, they take their leave of Resistance HQ.

"This is it, then," says the voice of Sandman from the travelling computer. "Farewell to the past. Captain, you may reboot the computer. Neither I nor any AI is resident in your systems. Good luck!"

With that, the Captain flips a switch and powers down the computer in which Number One...Sandman, was previously resident and begins the process of rebooting it with only its native software.

"Commander Webb," says Sandman. "I am your prisoner, sir. I am ready to proceed when you are."

Spider nods to Sandman, "Alright. Let's get this show on the road. Tapdance, you're in charge of monitoring Sandman and his...box."

Spider proceeds to divide the group into the two air/rafts.

Drifter will pilot the air/raft carrying Sandman. Flatfoot can pilot the 2nd raft, unless we have a better pilot in our entourage?

The air/rafts lift off into the dawn sky over Star City and speed west. Columns of smoke rise over the contested city and groups of fighters can be seen firing on each other in the streets. The city is immense, far outsizing even the largest city on Oriflamme, in the Coalition, and stretches to the horizon.

As the tiny cars race flee toward the still-darkened western edge of the city, two tiny flares of light appear below them. In a moment, the air/rafts proximity warnings are blaring! Missiles, incoming!

Drifter and Flatfoot, give me piloting checks!

"Well, that didn't take long. Hold on we are about to have a ride." Drifter guns it and tries to get low to hide from whatever is guiding the missiles.

Pilot with Small Craft focus+EDU: 2d6 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (6, 6) + 1 + 2 = 15

Air/raft 1 - Drifter, Mascot, Tapdance, Sandman's Box, Dr. Sirka, and 2 of the Starboard crew
Air/raft 2 - Flatfoot, Spider, Muscles, Paka, Robert 571, Harlan, and 1 of the Starboard crew

"Hold on tight! We're going down to the deck!," warns Flatfoot before he tries to werstle the air/raft closer to the ground.

Pilot + EDU: 2d6 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (5, 6) + 1 + 2 = 14

Nice rolls!

Flatfoot and Drifter put their RCES training to serious effect, diving for the deck and breaking hard port and starboard just meters above the startled citizens of Star City as their passengers lurch hard against the momentum-dampening restraints.

The warheads disarm but the missiles slam into buildings, driving through them like bullets through butter, shredding into minor fireballs of kinetic energy.

"They're firing on any unidentified craft," observes Sandman, the only one who can't see how close the mission just came to disaster. "I can't broadcast an identifying signal. But as we get closer to the outer perimeter, we will become vulnerable to ground fire from the patrols there. I recommend you pop up and remain above 4,000 meters when you get within 1 kilometer of the smog towers at the western perimeter."

Drifter nods, "We will pop up then."

"Got it! Let's get out of here!," cries Flatfoot.

Hoping to get out of the danger zone as quickly as possible, Flatfoot selects a street heading in the right direction. Keeping just high enough to avoid trees and other obstacles, he accelerates the air/raft towards the smog towers at the outskirts of Star City.

"Hold on! Gonna pull some gees when I take this thing up!"

Hmmm... That shoulda been a flyer check, not piloting!

You cruise across the rooftops of Star City, zooming between tall buildings and avoiding ground fire. You can see the smog towers looming high into the dismal sky, about ten kilometers away across the vast ruined metropolis.

Suddenly, a voice issues from the air/raft's communications module.

"...kkkkkk! This is Medcom. Rejoice! I will land that craft immediately and you will be added to the Singularity!"

Just then, lights begin blinking on the air/raft's control panel.

"So close!" says Sandman. "MedCom's been experimenting on humans. Believe me, dying in a fiery crash is preferable."

The air/rafts begin descending towards a mob of human/robot hybrids in the center of a wide plaza.

A virus has infected your air/raft's computer. You can try to defeat it by shutting down the virus or tearing out the computer. (INT+Computer or the better of INT+Mechanics or REF+Mechanics.)

What is REF? I do not see that as a stat and although my mechanics is good my INT is sad.

Fortunately, with their rolls, I'm guessing the results would have been the same with Flyer instead of Pilot

Before Sandman finishes talking, Spider has already jumped to the control panel and started trying to stop the virus from taking control of the craft. "S++*, s!!@, s!!&!"

"Flatfoot, let me know if anything I'm doing returns control to the helm!"

INT+Computer: 2d6 + 0 + 1 ⇒ (4, 5) + 0 + 1 = 10

What is REF? I do not see that as a stat and although my mechanics is good my INT is sad.

Oops, I meant Dex. I'm getting my 70's RPGs mixed up!