Brought back to the here and now by the cool shock of system alert messages, Sona Identifies the elf caster, human assailant, and the dwarf demolitionist and makes the obvious call.
A hot beam of laser-fire opens a hole in the dwarven demolitionist before Sona ducks behind a convenient chest-high storage crate through a rain of blaster bolts.
She manages to ricochet one such bolt with a chromium wristband, catching the human with a grazing shot in the shoulder.
Sona takes a moment behind the crate to assess her system status and check on BunkR.
>Absolutely delightful
>Be sure to take detailed stereoscopes
>You may want to revisit the experience later
>>> OH NO SONA, IT SIMPLY WOULD NOT DO TO EXPERIENCE THIS MORE THAN ONCE <<<
>>> I SIMPLY NEED TO MURDER MORE MEATBAGS <<<
>>> THAT WILL DO NICELY <<<
Bone'ead was never the brightest crayon in the box, so when he watches the fireball fly at him he instinctively raises his Tree-Club to try and smash it away!
As the ship lurched from another explosion, Bastians quarters rattled again, the sound a mixture of groaning bulkheads and the clattering choir of a multitude of empty bottles. Passed out drunk as usual, he was starting to slowly come to, the peaceful void of drunken sleep slowly giving way to nightmares.
It was happening again! He felt his heart in his throat, his breath ragged as he huddled behind whatever scrap of cover he could find. Around him everything was dark, the blackness of the night sky flickering with the light of weapons fire, like some surreal and deadly rave. He clutched his rifle tightly, its deadly potential his only solace as he sat alone in the mud. All around him were the screams of the dying, most of them distant but some so close he was tempted to cover his ears. He looked down at his medics satchel sat in front of him, the logo on it taunting him. His tears ran more freely as he stared at it, confronted with the duty he had run from, which he was even now neglecting. The distant panicked calls for a medic rang clearer than any other sound, growing louder until they drowned out everything else.
Then it happened, as it always did. Everything exploded into a rolling red inferno of fire and smoke, throwing him through the air, a trail of blood following him as he arched though the night sky. Hitting the ground hard, he barely held onto consciousness. Looking around in a haze, he tried to obey his instincts which screamed for him to run, but somehow his attempts to move only resulted in feeble crawling. Rolling onto his back he looked down, seeing the cause of his failure to stand. Two bloodied stumps stared back at him, one slightly longer than the other, but both mangled beyond any hope of recovery.
With an anguished roar he flew out of his bed, punching wildly at the air and losing his balance. Flailing wildly, he grabbed a shelf, tearing it with him as he fell, landing hard on the floor in a shower of bottles and whatever else he had stored on the shelf. Groaning, he rolled onto his back. Looking down, his blurry vision focused on his legs. For a moment, he saw an after image from his dream, bloodied stumps, before reality cemented itself and replaced them with his robotic prosthetics. "Ugh, I need a drink." He groaned, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back onto the floor. He lay there a moment in silence, about to drift back to sleep when his cabin was once more rattled by an impact on the outer hull. "Wha? Whats going on?" He mumbled, getting shakily to his feet and shambling towards the intercom. "Hey, captain, whats going on? Not taking another shortcut through an asteroid field are you?" He half yelled, an accusing tone to his voice as he remembered that particular incident. The volume of his own voice caused him to wince and rub his temple with a groan.
The dwarf cries out in pain as Sona's bolt pierces his armor. He is hurt, but he isn't dead. Like a professional, he returns to setting charges. The elf stares in amazement as the ogre bats aside the fireball, scorching the trunk. Sona dives out of the way just in time to avoid the last of the flames. At this point the humans both turn to fire at Rotgut, while the elf's gloves begin to crackle with electricity. He yells, Kill that beast!
Rotgut, you had their interest. Now you have their attention.
What do you do?
Brute force not working? Your not using enough of it! Bone'ead notes the setting of the charges from the dwarf and changes tactics, roaring and swinging his club in outrage at the audacity of this stunted one...
Rotgut charges the dwarf, heedless of the blaster and electric bolts pelting his hide.
The poor dwarf, fully engaged in planting the charges, doesn't even see the tree trunk as it turns him into a paste.
Unfortunately, the detonator survives, floating effortlessly to the elf's hand. Good enough! Get clear!
The elf and the two humans rush towards the entrance where Sona and BoT are in cover.
What do you do?
Kray! Ya bum, it be pirates! Git t' engineerin'! We be close to clear, but boarders be attemptin' a mite bit o' sabotage!
The ship jerks again, knocking Kray through another pile of bottles.
Enraged by the pain of the electricity and blaster bolts pelting him, Bone'ead roars in defiance! The pulp of the dwarf still dripping from his club, He begins smashing his club down wildly at the set charges in a wild attempt to disable them.
A compartment opens along Sona's shin and a small utility handle snaps magnetically from its holster into her right hand. The oscillators under her chassis begin winding up again, still recovering from her rapid discharge. This time, as the energy wells up, light begins to bend around Sona's left hand as the kinetic displacement module begins to glow.
Brandishing the utility handle, a jagged band of chromatic light issues forth as the engineer activates her arc beam separator. Functionally similar to the invaders' beam weapons, Sona's is manufactured for heavy duty use, separating scrap metal into sizable chunks. The "blade" is longer, wider, and creeping with the excess static of an unfocused beam like an old-fashioned lumber saw. If the invaders close the distance she will be ready.
From her position of cover, Sona assesses the battle, assisted by a combination of previous footage and wireless triangulation. She takes special care to track the electromagnetic signature of the explosive. Once her force palm is charged, she needs to blast it somewhere safe and out of reach. The contingency of failure due to magical interference already being analyzed for use in future magic nullification operations. A better gauge of the time remaining would aid in risk/cost analysis as well.
What is about to happen?
"Again!?" Kray replied into the coms, rubbing his temple again, this time due to his astonishment at what he had just heard. "What is it about this heap of scrap that attracts these vultures, cant they see we dont have anything worth taking?"
Not waiting for a reply, he stomped to his small personal workbench. Looking it over quickly, he scooped a few choice items into his large pant pockets, then picked up his shotgun and threw a belt of shells over one shoulder. Finally, he looked at himself in his small mirror, shaking his head at what he saw. "Might scare em off with my dashing good looks." He said to himself, lighting a half smoked cigar and chewing on it a few times.
Another rattling of the hull and the not too distant sounds of weapons fire reminded him to get a move on, and he bolted out into the hallway, loading armor piercing shells into his weapon "Boarders, so probably armored, better use something that makes a big hole." Bastian preferred ballistic weapons to lasers. True, sometimes they jammed, and there were plenty of things lasers were better at, but there was something immensely satisfying about seeing some punks strolling around in laser resistant gear and the surprised look on his face when it completely failed to protect him from receiving a gaping new chest cavity. The good honest bucking in his hands when he fired and the ease of use were just an added bonus.
Sona, time seems to slow as your processors kick into overdrive. You see the elf and humans in mid flight, attempting to put as much distance as possible between themselves, and the ogre/explosives. The elf's thumb is poised over the remote detonator. At the same time you analyze the ogre, trunk raised to crush the explosives. You predict that the likely result will be the deactivation of the detonation pins, rendering them inert. However, you also predict that the flailing ogre will destroy the power couplings in the process, disabling the engines.
Sona sorely regretted overclocking the ORACLE module. She also regretted not loading her repair protocol. Still, if the captain was having difficulty performing evasive maneuvers before, he would have much more dificulty with the engines dead. Sona stands from her position behind the crates and aims for the treetrunk club and pushes-
-attempting to catch it short of the engines. Destroying or knocking the explosives away are still an objective, but first and foremost, save the engines.
2BR, your flamethrower appears to have no effect. One soldier opens fire with a chain gun, the other hits the intruder alarm.
What do you do?
Kray, you rush towards engineering, only to turn a corner to find three soldiers in power armor running in your direction. The tallest, with unique markings on its armor, appears to have a remote detonator in its hand, but is otherwise unarmed.
The slightly shorter two do not have weapons drawn. They are sprinting at full speed towards you.
What do you do?
Sona, with your intervention, Ratgut scatters the explosives away from the power couplings, while doing only minimal damage. The engines are unaffected. Unfortunately, the explosives have not been disarmed, and now litter your engineering bay.
The mercenaries have passed you, and are sprinting down the corridor behind you. BoT has seriously wounded one of the humans, but they are all still on the move.
What do you do?
Sona, report! What in t' seven hells be goin' on down thar?
Bone'ead looks in confusion at the explosives, then back at his club, before noticing the fleeing enemies
No run from Bone'ead! You only die tired!
He bellows as he gives chase!
You will be happy to hear that two of the armed infiltrators have been neutralized, and engines are still very much not destroyed. Once we have this mess of high explosives disabled and cleaned up, the engineering bay should be secured. Infiltrators appear to be planting explosive charges throughout the ship. All human personnel should be made aware that handheld detonators are in play.
Having worked from most important information to least, Sona continues to spout serial numbers and details about the hardware she has seen so far. She expects the captain will cut her off once he's had his fill. Anything interesting Sona recalls she recites to the captain. She makes no implication of orders for the captain to follow.
As she speaks, Sona begins to clean the emptied room, starting with any explosives that are still blinking. She is not only scratching a mental itch by tidying her work quarters, but hoping that doing so might reveal some tactical information. If she can get the explosives deactivated, she will move on to the engineering console to assess the ship's status. She does none of this quickly.
2BR sprays the highly flammable gas over the enemies, but the lack of oxygen prevents any fires from catching.
He is taking heavy fire from the chain gun.
But he is a BunkR BustR. He's designed to be taking heavy fire.
> D-d-divert p-power from weapons to sh-shh-shi-
>>> NEVER MIND THAT LET ME GET THESE HANDS IN THAT THROAT <<<
The crunching blades spin up, dealing an additional 2 damage.
Sona, your analysis of the attack suggests, with a 2% margin of error, that the mercenaries are attempting to disable the ship in order to confiscate the cargo. You predict that another squad will be in or on the way to the cargo hold, which is one level above engineering.
2BR, your target raises an arm to shield from your attack. You grind through the armor, and the arm, and a satisfying spray of blood coats your chassis. However, the armor's vacuum safety protocols immediately seal the breach. The soldier uses his other arm to send a large EMP charge through your chassis.
Meanwhile, his comrade turns back from the alarm system, and brings a chain sword down on your left arm.
Take best of 2d8+1 damage, mitigated by armor.
Your enemies press the attack.
What do you do?
The Cap'n listens to most of your report, until you mention explosives. Despite the inertial dampeners, you can feel this ship making a sharp 180 degree turn. You also hear your forward batteries begin to fire.
Scurvy sons of t' thrice cursed sea! Nobody sabotages my Sixes!
Sona begins packing the launch tube with deactivated explosives...
2BR doesn't give a rats ass for that chainsword. His forcefield keeps most of it away, and what creeps through is grinding against his chassis more-or-less uselessly.
The EMP on the other hands is wrecking havoc in his systems. His minimal internal shielding struggles to get him through it.
[
Inside 2BR's systems, the antivirus suddenly realises that the 'EMP' is in fact an out-of-date version of itself, quietly trying to go about it's business. It meekly subsides, leaving enough processing power to
>>> STEAL THE CHAINSWORD AND IMPALE IT'S OWNER WITH IT WHOOPS SPOILERS <<<
As you impale his comrade, the soldier you previously disarmed strikes you again with an EMP blast, hoping to overload your circuits.
Take 1d8+1 damage.
Both of the soldiers are severely wounded, but are unwilling, or perhaps unable, to disengage. Desperate, they charge as one, attempting to carry you out through the hull breach. Behind them, blast doors seal over the exit from this room.
Over the shipwide comms you hear: Intruder in Life Support Control. Life Support failing. Helmets mandatory. Seal Section 8.
The message repeats. You are either ejected from the room by the two soldiers, or knocked onto your back.
He's out of there, chainsword in hand.
Out in the vacuum, 2BR crawls swiftly across to another random location along the ship hull. Naturally, he does what he does best.
The hull is wide open in seconds, and a very expensive mess. 2BR extrudes a few sensors, and sticks his head inside the hole.
2BR, after a quick look around you determine that the function of the room you have discovered is ... actually, you tell us what you have found.
Regardless of the room's purpose, a soldier appears to have noticed your imminent entrance, and hidden along the hull to your aft side. As you peer in your head is hit with a shotgun blast. The shower of shrapnel doesn't penetrate your armor, but you have lost communications with Sona.
Streaming past 2BR's head is a random collection of sanitary waste napkins, cleansing liquids, dirty water and various... fluids. 2BR seems to have found the bathroom. Not exactly the highest in regards to strategic value, but theres nothing quite like surprise attack in the loo to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies.
>>> HELLO THERE THIS IS MY NEW TOY WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY <<<
Stopping in surprise, Kray took one look at the detonator, realized what it was and pumped off a few shells. He aimed for the hand, knowing the detonator would get destroyed with it if he hit his mark.
Cursing loudly as another lurching of the ship caused his shot to go wide, ricocheting down the hall, he dove through the nearest door for cover. "Get em big guy!" He yelled at the ogre, hoping his dimwitted companion would keep their attention. Sticking his shotgun around the corner, he pulled the trigger repeatedly, hoping to stop the enemy advance.
Sona looks up from her work when the connection with Mr. BustR is lost. She accesses the enemy ship's communications console again.
>Kind sir:
>We have been infiltrated.
>Command codes are compromised.
>Temporary access code: Would you kindly.
>Initiating security protocol: Darknet.
>Would you kindly shut down all comm ports,
>and scramble shortwave if you can.
When the ship chirrups an affirmative response, she smiles. Sona now has all the explosive plastic lumped together and wrapped with copper wire. She's tinkering with one of the detonators, hoping to change the frequency of the signal required for detonation...
Bone'ead continues to chase the 3 enemies through the ship, and grunts in approval as the trio are delayed by the efforts of Bastian. Running in from behind he swing his club at the elf...
and shudders as his club connects once again!
2BR, the hapless soldier is felled instantly by your blade. She manages to take another shot before collapsing, but the bullets ricochet harmlessly. You find yourself in the women's bathroom. The blaring intruder alert and repeating message still indicate that the ship believes you are in life support control.
What is your next goal?
Kray, your wild shots miss the elf, but drop the human that BoT previously injured. Your efforts also force the now duo to stop long enough for Rotgut's trunk to slam the elf to the floor. He will not rise again.
Rotgut, the pesky little remaining human rolls under your trunk, onto his back, and begins firing into your torso. Take 1d8 damage.
Kray, you hear heavy foot steps come to a stop in the corridor behind you, then the unmistakeable sound of a grenade clinking its way down the corridor towards you and the ogre.
What do you both do?
Sona, the destroyer's comms are down. I'm curious to see what you plan with those explosives.
Bone'ead roars inpain as the bolts bite through his tough hide. He lumbers through the doorway Bastian has taken cover in and leans heavily against the wall
Bone'ead hungry. Think am need eat!
He reaches into his oversized pack and there is the sound of flesh tearing as he rips off a bit of the dead animal within, greedily stuffing his mouth as quickly as he can..
Sona takes the helmet off the bloody smear she shoveled into a neat pile in the corner, and mashes it down onto the top of the explosives. Any lights the helmet has, she turns on. Wiping the blood off her hands, she leaves a message on the plastic explosives. Taking a step back, she admires her work. At a distance, the explosives look like a man in the fetal position.
~Captain, I'm at the launch terminal. I need line of sight on their docking bay.~
Her target is an area in front of the docking bay, in range of tractor beams. If the bay is still open for boarding/evacuation, she'll aim for the interior. Sona takes her time, waiting for the data to align within a 16.67% margin of error.
The payload ejects from the launch tube, spinning gently end over end toward the destroyer. She's fishing for idiots. Normally someone in danger would sound a mayday, but comms are down. If she can manage to get the charges inside, that would be optimal. She enters the command word and waits to send.
>Ping 8.8.8.8_
Somewhere deep inside a Lodestar Destroyer, in pursuit of prime target, job number 7784922, client: AoS.
Lieutenant?
Yes, cadet?
I think we have a floater from the boarding party.
ID?
Not sure. With comms down and external sensors damaged, it's difficult to ID. It is one of ours. No clear life signs.
Employment Agreement Section 47, Paragraph B, cadet. The Combinat will attempt to recover your body if reasonable to do so. Bring him in.
Aye, Lieutenant.
A few moments later ... On a flight deck on a Lodestar Destroyer.
A soldier watches calmly as a body is brought onto the deck by tractor beam. The soldier trots over to ID the body. What the fu---
The blood is dabbed onto the body like a dot-matrix printer. The message is a full rendition of anti-piracy laws in numerous languages.
Sona waits for the docking bay doors to close before executing the signal.
~We should not have any more trouble from boarding parties, captain. I will continue cleaning up down here. Let me know if the boys downstairs need assistance.~
Sona, you inflict best of 2d8+2 on the destroyer, bypassing shields and armor.
10 ship damage.