Creating Gameplay thread
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It has felt like a long trip for all of you. You all boarded the Okimoro at your various ports of call, and its final destination is almost here.
At some point, for each of you, you got ahold of Duravor Kreel, a Starfinder agent. He has accepted your request to join the Starfinders. The last step is heading to Absolom station itself, and meeting with the Dwarf. Each of you has your reasons for joining up. Be it adventure, escaping, or just an excuse to travel the stars. Whatever the reason you are almost there.
The old passenger transport seems to creak as its engine's hum can be felt through the floor. There are not many passengers on this last leg of the trip. You find yourself buckled in next to 4 other like minded people. The captain seemed to know why you were boarding and placed you all together. In your corner of the passenger seating you find a Lashunta, Android, (a very dark skinned) Elf , a Halfling, and a Human.
Tylur stretched his long legs as best he could in the cramped transport. All too aware that his big frame often challenged the design features of most commercial craft, he did his best to leave room for his fellow traveling companions. Luckily, the halfling girl sitting across from him didn't seem to need the extra leg room.
"," he offered, ""
He shifted his pack around on the floor and retrieved a nutri-bar from one of the outer pockets. He'd made the mistake of skipping breakfast and his boosted metabolism was making him pay for it. Feeding himself a healthy bite, the big soldier looked around the cabin as he chewed it down, noting the android, lashunta, and...elf?
The latter's dark skin seemed unusual and Tylur couldn't say he'd ever heard of elves being anything other than pale, thin, and aloof. This one certainly had an exotic look about him. Perhaps he and the lashunta were traveling companions from Castrovel?
The android, on the other hand, was more familiar. Tylur had seen a few of those on Akiton and especially in the Diaspora. They'd been second-class citizens at one point, but he didn't view them that way. They were people like anyone else...with hopes and dreams, good and bad. Better to judge folks on how they carried themselves than any misplaced stereotypes.
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Iridar, fidgeted. he'd flown a similar ship to this one his whole life... Of course it hadn't been people he transported. His pack sat between his legs, the but end of his rifle sticking out the top. Although he was dressed rather plainly, it was clear that even his clothes where exotic. They where made with a different weave in mind, matching the flow and florish typical to drow Equipment, although they where old and didn't hold any if the regality drow normally prefered.
Iridar reached into his bag and pulled out his datapad, a personal computer he had out together himself. It wasn't very advanced, but had a few games he occasionally used to entertain himself with. He didn't pay any head to those he sat near, Just waiting for the trip to end...
On his datapad a game flashed to life, a flight simulator with great graphics and details.
Those who saw the drow would most likely mistake him for a strange elf. He actually had really dark skin, even for a drow who's skin typically was violet in shade. His was nearly ebony. And although he was shorter than normal elves, he had their grace and flow all down.
His game flashed as he took out some virtual enemies, Their ships blown to virtual dust.
But why? Zam thought, her eyes puffy with tears as she stared longingly at the silver zephao falkrys caged before them, its silver plumage glistening and sparkling in the morning light. Her father had placed its cage on the grass here in a quiet corner of the city park.
You know the answer to that, Zamasea De. Her father thought back. I told you when we brought the bird home that, once her wing healed, we’d release her back into the park. That day has come.
Zam didn’t like that answer at all, especially since he had used her full name. She knew what that meant—there would be no arguing, no reasoning with him, and his mind was made. And when her father made a decision about something, it was final.
But she had grown fond of the falkrys, had given her a name (Toshi), had looked forward to seeing her each day, perched within the metal cage in the common room of their family’s unit. She had come to think of her as a pet, as part of the family, and had been operating on the assumption that her father would forget his promise to the bird, and allow Zam to keep her as a pet. At the very least, she imagined that Toshi had grown fond of her, too, and wouldn’t want to leave them.
Zamasea. Some people keep birds in cages for their beauty and decoration. But these creatures do not belong to us. Falkrys are wild creatures. And some creatures do not belong in cages. They belong to the wild. Without a further thought, he opened the cage door and shooed Toshi out of the cage. The she-falkrys fluttered out onto the grass and, with a few furtive brushes of her wings, immediately took flight toward the treeline.
Zam knew he was right. But that knowledge did not ease the pain in her chest as she stared after her friend, flying where she could not follow.
I will find you again, she thought with determination. I will learn to fly, too, and I will find you again.
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┐└ ┴ ┬local day┐Fourthday┐└Absalom Stat┴ ┐└ ┴ 317 A.G. ┐└ ┴ ┬ood Morni┐└n, Zamasea. Orbital radius┐└ alom Station┐└ ┴ ┬ ┐└ ┴ ┬
Zam jumps at her comm’s notification, half asleep in her childhood memory. That one had seemed particularly apt under the circumstances. She glances at the unit strapped to her wrist and blinks twice, clearing its screen. She gives her wrist a little shake, wondering if non-thermal radiation from the station’s interfering with its reception. She raises her seat and sits up, stretching her arms up over her head before running a hand through her shockingly blue hair.
”It has,” she agrees with Tylur, a smile on her face. She makes a conscious effort to speak. She had been practicing vocalization of thoughts for weeks now, even encouraging her parents to do the same around their home-unit, until all of their throats, unused to such exertion, were sore. But she knew she couldn’t expect most people she encountered off of Castrovel to hear her thoughts.
She looks around again at her traveling companions—Tylur, Iridar, Sybil, and Dee. The flashing from Iridar’s computer flashes, and she can see the reflection in his eyes. His skin is so unusual—quite pretty in a way, its exotic allure very…becoming. She wonders if he’s that color all over, and is instantly grateful not to be surrounded by mind-readers. Not wanting him to think (or realize) she’s staring at him, she looks back to Sybil and Tylur. ”I wonder what Duravor Kreel is like in the flesh…” she muses for the hundredth time. ”Do you think we’ll have some time to explore the station, or will he give us our assignments straight off? Wouldn’t it be cool if we get the same? I still owe you a thrashing at cards.”
Despite her acute excitement about joining the Society, she can’t deny she’s nervous about not knowing anyone. Making friends hasn’t ever been a problem for her, but that’s the thing about the unknown—it’s hard to manage one’s expectations. At least she’s got this crew, for as long as they’re together, anyway.
"Do you think we’ll have some time to explore the station, or will he give us our assignments straight off? Wouldn’t it be cool if we get the same? I still owe you a thrashing at cards."
"The invitation said we'd meet Duravor when we disembark. I assume that means the docking bay, but I suppose he could be just inside whatever passes for Customs or a Welcome Center on Absalom." Tylur replied, "Probably not a whole lot of time to look around if he's got other duties besides collecting us. And we gotta gain acceptance into the Society before they give us a mission...sorry, I mean 'assignment'...I'm still trying to shake off the military vocabulary. Either way, we can all keep in touch. See what shakes out. Life's got a funny way of dictating things sometimes. So, it's better to be flexible. Careful planning rarely survives contact with the enemy...or anything else."
"That's what makes me such a good card player," he adds with a smile and a wink. "Well, that and a whole lot of downtime when I was on base and in between missions."
The accommodations were pretty much what DeeV8 was used to. Standing a little over 5’7” in height, her 2nd skin armor color of ebony and dark purples. Unlike some of her brethren who chose non-gender designation, Dee decided to take the female designation as she had been specifically designed for by her creators, The Nocturnum Mega Corporation.
Owned by Greater House of Lestaad, DeeV8 was created as infiltrator agents as the first wave of any combat situation. However, Plexin 1 of the AAF had liberated her from years of torment. Always wanting to better her self-awareness, Dee decided to join the Starfinders and leave the AAF behind. Sure she still kept in contact with her close friend, but her days as a member of his rebel cell were over.
Tall and slender, she been crafted to represent an elf, a cruel joke as it represented the enemy of her tormentors. Her hair silvery and shoulder in length. The woman’s eyes glowed a soft violet, matching the circuitry tattoos that spread across her alabaster skin. Sitting as straight as perfect posture would dictate, the elf-droid simply looked out the port side window out into the vastness of space.
Not saying much, she periodically took in her surroundings seeming rather overly alert from time to time. Dee had noticed the drow as soon as he stepped onto the shuttle. The excitement of meeting her first contact with the Starfinder Society outweighing any fear she might have experienced at the sight of what was once her tormentor’s race. Back on Apostae, DeeV8 was an outlaw.
Always siding on the side of precaution, she kept her hand close to the holster of her pistol without of course making it too obvious. Dee then caught the human male looking her direction after making a comment to the halfling woman he was sitting close to. Giving him a smile, her attention then shifted to the beautiful Lashunta with stark blue hair.
“If you believe that two hours, thirty-five minutes and fifteen seconds has been too long? I guess one could see why you two would reveal displeasure of such long period of travel.” Her voice was melodic, almost seemed elvish despite her violet circuitry tattoos that glowed softly across her cheeks. “However, I’d hate to be the ‘bearer of bad news’, but I believe we still have thirty-five minutes and fifty-five seconds remaining until we reach our destination.” Dee smiled an overly dramatic smile.
“I’ve have retrieved some information from the Infosphere about Mr. Duravor Kreel. He is a dwarf of some renown within the Starfinders. However, it was all I was able to retrieve considering the short amount of time I possessed before the shuttle departed.” Processing the information she had gathered before getting on board the shuttle.
“There isn’t much difference in definition between mission and assignment.” She pondered on the analogies Tylur had made. Tattoo of the crescent moon she wore on her forehead wrinkling slightly in thought. “One is assigned a mission as a mission could be assigned to an individual. So I believe you don’t have to apologize for the statement Tylur. I’d consider both are acceptable statements.” Her features slacked, appearing sympathetic as she could. Despite the beauty she held, her demeanor seemed slightly mechanical...as any android would.
"That's what makes me such a good card player. Well, that and a whole lot of downtime when I was on base and in between missions."
Zam laughs. The sound of a bubbling brook. "Well I wish you'd told me that before I'd wagered twenty-five credits! Now you've got to teach me your tricks, and then I'll win it back." Her eyes light up. "Or... You can buy my our first meal on the Station. Don't listen to what people say about Station food being completely nitro-freeze dried. My parents' friends have been, and they said there's all sorts of good stuff to be had."
“If you believe that two hours, thirty-five minutes and fifteen seconds has been too long? I guess one could see why you two would reveal displeasure of such long period of travel. However, I’d hate to be the ‘bearer of bad news’, but I believe we still have thirty-five minutes and fifty-five seconds remaining until we reach our destination.”
Zam smirks at her friend. She'd known androids on Castrovel, but this is the first time she's spent an appreciable amount of time with one. She hadn't been sure what to expect, precisely, but Dee had defied any preconceptions she might have had. The android is, how to put it...witty, and Zam still isn't sure if the humor is pre-programmed or learned. She's not sure about a lot when it comes to androids, frankly, but Dee makes her excited to learn me.
"Dee... This may be a stupid question but... Do you ever get bored? Sitting so perfectly still for so long, and just as we're about to arrive. I can barely sit still, and you seem so cool."
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Iridar curses in elven, the sound of an explosion coming from his datapad.
He sighs and looks to the others, his silver eyes flashing lightly with the readout from his Exocortex. The computer sends him information on the others, their build, height, and rough estimate of weight. He sighs, "The sooner I get off this rust-bucket, the better... I've never been to Absolon, but that's mostly because there was never any good business there..." the "elf" stands and stretches. "But I hear the society gives grants to it's members for starships... As long as they work for them at least." He moves to face the others, I suppose since we're all applying together, with the same representative, were likely to be posted together as well. Well! Here's my first ruling: I get the ship, Alright? You all can have your own positions and such, after all if it's a big ship likely we'll need a mechanic, and someone to run the guns. But I get to fly it, Alright?
Doesn't act threatening as he gives his demands, hardly, he just seems a bit possessive... Or rather obsessive.
The woman's belongings are sitting beside her a small backpack with a small laser rifle strapped to the outside. The halfling is wrapped in a dark brown cloak that she has about her like a blanket. She tosses her blonde hair to one side as she seems to have been in her own daydream or just 'somewhere' else. The small woman takes in a deep breath and looks about her for the the first time since the other had seated themselves around her. She smiles warmly to everyone as she looks about at each, "Merry meet to you all. I am Sybil."
"My apologies for not answering you, it is no problem at all." she says to Tylur with a nod.
She sets her eyes upon the dark skinned elf and thinks nothing of the fact with the aliens she has seen or heard of, what's the big deal of a dark elf. One of her brow's raises at his demand though, "You don't say? That is rather presumptuous, don'tcha think? Who is to say this fine gentleman here," she points to Tylur, "Is not some super flyboy? Or perhaps the lovely Android beside me here has been programed to be your better?"
The woman shrugs and without letting the elf answer just yet continues, "Not to mention that it is rather rude. If you had asked we might all just have said, hey why not." She gives a shrug, "But what is done is done, perhaps something to consider for next time."
She than looks to Zamasea as if Iridar's comments had any real affect on her, "Like anywhere, Absalom Station is rather dependent on how many credits you have. Sure you have the shelters and the like, but if you got the credits, you can eat pretty much anything you want."
A voice is projected though the room, "Well, looks like we are going to be docking soon. We are passing through the Armada, and we are set to land at Docking Bay 94 in a few minutes. Please gather your things... And for any of you new to Absalom station, take a look at the Armada out the windows."
Outside the various windows of the transport you can see a vast and shifting swarm of ships, orbiting the station. It is a sight to see for anyone who hasn't see that many ships in one place before.
You can see what looks like ship swarms, joining and breaking apart to a strange mathematically organized pattern. Large ships with flashing billboards and docking lights. Even large warships of all makes and models imaginable.
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Iridar cracks his knuckles. Well, I'm sorry that my sensibilities where harsh on your delicate feelings, next time I'll be sure to say something that won't be offensive to such a soft skinned group of individuals. the drow says sarcastically. And even if she was programmed to be my better, I am a much better programmer. he grabs his bag. Now, I wouldn't be surprised if every security robot in the sector stops us, just to make sure I'm not an evil soldier bent on sabotaging the station... he sighs. Bad enough that drow are hated on our own world...
"Dee... This may be a stupid question but... Do you ever get bored? Sitting so perfectly still for so long, and just as we're about to arrive. I can barely sit still, and you seem so cool."
“No questions are ever stupid my dearest Zam.”Dee winked, a moment losing any notion of her previous frosty demeanor. “The notion of the universe that lay ahead of us is filled with mystery and adventure.” She faced the window looking out into space to see the Armada that quickly came to view. “But, despite the excitement I feel, wasting energy on the anticipation of something that I know will be happening no matter how much excitement boils out into action seems rather a waste of resource.” The elf-droid turn to smile at Zam once more, this time robotic in nature. “Plus, one would enjoy watching your excitement as it would appear to be infectious indeed.”
"The sooner I get off this rust-bucket, the better... I've never been to Absolon, but that's mostly because there was never any good business there..."
Dee listens to the Drow, noting on his statement about Absolon Station. “One would disagree of that particular statement. I believe some have categorized the station as a plethora of ripe opportunity. If course you belong to the right House or Corporation.” She knew what he was, and so far he hadn’t shown her anything to be alarmed for. Perhaps there was more to this Drow than DeeV8 would assume. Whatever the case, she’d keep a close eye on him.
"Is not some super flyboy? Or perhaps the lovely Android beside me here has been programed to be your better?"
”Lovely Android...why thank you Sybil. My designation is DeeV8...but you can call me Dee if you wish.” A soft smile escaped her perfectly statuesque features. The Android had been built to represent everything that was female Elven. However the crescent moon tattoo she held on her forehead, and the swirls of violet lighting scattered about her alabaster skin revealed her as what she truly was.
”As for my piloting skills, I would say they are adequate in completing the task assigned if needed.” She had flown plenty of shuttles during her time with the Rebel Cell.
Now, I wouldn't be surprised if every security robot in the sector stops us, just to make sure I'm not an evil soldier bent on sabotaging the station... he sighs. Bad enough that drow are hated on our own world...
”I believe you may have some resistance entering the station, however if that was a problem one would assume Mr. Kreel would have notified the authorities of the nature of one of it’s recruits. If the good dwarf has given you the benefit of the doubt, I believe I can do the same this day forward.”
Unlike her former compatriots, Dee wasn't totally prejudicing to those who had enslaved her before her awakening. “Ah excellent, unfortunately, I miscalculated our arrival time, but I would say that particular estimate would be ‘boots on the ground’ instead of the shuttle docking into the station itself.”[/b]
"You got that right, sister," Tylur acknowledged Dee, "Even when they let you dock, they gotta inspect for all kinds of things to make sure we aren't carrying contraband, contagions, or who knows what else. We'll probably be stuck in here for another half-hour, at least. And then there's baggage claim, assuming any of you checked your bags. I do my best to travel light. If I can't carry it, I tend to leave it behind. Let's me get movin' faster that way."
"Hey, Zam...if you want to grab dinner later, that'd be cool. We might even find a restaurant at one of the casinos and we can check out the card tables. Not necessarily to play, of course. There's gotta be more card sharks on this station than anywhere else in the system. I know better than to try my luck on them...or the house. The house always wins."
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"That's why you don't gamble on the house" he says, "You get the suckers to gamble on you." he slides his datapad away and pulls his bag over his shoulder. "Now, Without Further ado, Absolon station" he looks out the window, recognizing alot of the ship models, mostly the smaller ships, the faster ones as well. "Let's make today a good day."
"Yea, sure..." Zam ignores the burgeoning argument between Iridar and Sybil, her eyes glued out the window as she marvels at the sheer number and variety of ships. A vibrant Hivonyx Titan Hauler, leagues away but still the largest thing in the sky, dominates the view.
"I wonder which one will be ours..."
She turns back to the others. "Honestly, stop worrying. Dee is right, with Kreel involved, I'm sure we'll sail right through. And then we can figure out that meal!"
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Iridar nods. "Yeah, I can't tell you how much I'd really like a steak... Any kind really, I'm not picky on what I eat honestly." as the drow talks more of his accent comes through. He talks mostly like a human would, but occasionally the inflections common to drow come through.
Iridar impatiently tapps his feet, his hard boot clanking on the metal floor. "Look, I'll say it now, I don't care what you are.. I know it's common for people to believe drow are snobbish purist who believe they are the true race, and they are. But I'm not like the rest of them. My father was a gun smuggler, he dealed with every which kind if race, and by proxy so did I... Everyone has their skum, from the lowest goblins to the highest elves, everyone thinks they are the best, but they aren't... We're more alike than we think." he chuckled. "after all, put a Vesk behind the controls of a Starfighter and he's no stronger than a Goblin"
Final docking procedures get started. The massive space station starts to take up more and more of the viewport. There is a small shift in gravity, almost too subtle to notice, as the station gravity takes over from the ship's.
The Cabin attendant comes into the room, "Well, we are here! Please gather all of your things and head out the main dock. Please do not forget any luggage, as we will confiscate it if left behind. Once in the station you will need to go through security. Some of you have had done most of the work ahead of time, so it should not take too long. Welcome to Absalom station!"
You are all ushered out the transport out to the station. The brightly lit docks of Absalom Station are abuzz with activity as travelers bustle by, preparing to board or disembarking from starships bound to or from any dozens of worlds. Brash and swaggering starpilots, scurrying ysoki mechanics, and expectant colonists mingle with enigmatic kasatha mystics, hard-faced astroid miners, imposing vest mercenaries, and more, creating a microcosm of the abundance and variety of life in the Pact Worlds. New arrivals meet friends, loved ones, or business contacts, and are whisked away into the humming activity of daily life on the vast space station. Beyond them, ground crews tend to the docked ships, and dockworkers in mechanized cargo lifters load and unload freight and baggage. A sharp tang of ozone hangs in the air - a byproduct of the electrical discharges from the docking ships - but underneath, the station's atmosphere has a slightly used aroma. The docking bay's deck plates thrum under your feet, through whether it's front the passage of innumerable feet of the vibrations of the station's power conduits and air recycling systems is impossible to say.
"Looks pretty busy," Tylur notes aloud, "There's a dwarf over there scanning the crowd like he's trying to identify someone. That's probably our guy, judging by the Starfinder badge he's wearing."
"Look, I'll say it now, I don't care what you are.. I know it's common for people to believe drow are snobbish purist who believe they are the true race, and they are. But I'm not like the rest of them. My father was a gun smuggler, he dealed with every which kind if race, and by proxy so did I... Everyone has their skum, from the lowest goblins to the highest elves, everyone thinks they are the best, but they aren't... We're more alike than we think. After all, put a Vesk behind the controls of a Starfighter and he's no stronger than a Goblin"
"That must have been an exciting way to live! Zipping from one port to another, meeting all sorts of races and characters. The only interplanetary trip I've taken prior to this was a school-sponsored field study on Akiton, and even that was via portal. شاید شما می توانید طناب را به من آموزش دهید؟"
"Anyway, the fact that you're here says a lot about about you. I'd imagine all of us defy stereotypes in one way or another." She thinks for a minute, struggling to think of a way that's she's decidedly un-Lashuntan...
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Zam stands between Tylur and Dee, her pack over her slender shoulders, taking in the crowd. She's just about to activate her comm when Tylur spots the dwarf. "Yes! That's Duravor Kreel, I'm certain! Looks likes he's searching the crowd for us. Come on, let's go say hello." She takes an eager step toward him.
[quote: Tylur]"You got that right, sister…”
“Thank you Tylur I do appreciate your confidence in my estimation.” Dee smiled, the relief oddly washing over her features. Emotions were new to her, it was something that she was very much still learning. “I too would love to accompany the two of you if that is acceptable? I have yet to see casinos or venture into the station. My visits here were very much limited to the shuttle bays.” The thought of finally seeing the station made her violet eyes light up with excitement.
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"I believe you are correct," Dee responded motioning in the same direction Zam was. Following her closely behind, she seems a little apprehensive at first but follows the Lashunta down the boarding ramp and towards their contact.
"Yes! That's Duravor Kreel, I'm certain! Looks likes he's searching the crowd for us. Come on, let's go say hello."
"Alright." Tylur shoulders his pack and prepares to use his big frame to blaze a trail through the crowd toward the dwarf. He looks down at Sybil and makes sure he keeps her in sight so they don't get separated. "If you need any help, I can carry your bag for you, little lady," he offers the halfling, "Might be easier to navigate...and dodge some of the bigger folks who ain't watchin' where they're going...if you're not too loaded down."
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Iridar spots the dwarf, lifting his bag and huffing he turns to Zam and nods. Really, it's not that hard, when people see me they think I'm not someone to play games with, and I could use that to my advantage, being a scary dude... But you don't have that, so it's gonna be a bit different.
He begins to move twards the dwarf with the rest of the group. He adjusts his Exocortex to stop scanning g the crowd, the exact height of every person there wasn't necessary.
He keeps an eye out for people drawing weapons, but if course his suspicions are not met, no-one seems to care a drow walked among them... Perhaps they where just busy.
The halfling has since stood up on her seat and is watching the 'armada' and the station as the ships begins docking. As the ship starts to slow she catches sight of the dwarf, Kreel, and thinks Finally.
But she takes in the wider crowd and something seems to be of... She calls out to the others, "Hold up guys... She calls after the the others who were seated with her and she continues, "Looks like there is something is amiss."
Anyone who is interested she points it out through the window, "There is a group there and there... They seem to be taking up what some would call defensive potions on the outside of the main crowd but in among the crates and machinery."
She hefts her backpack over her back and takes her rifle into a more accessible position but still safely stowed.
"What?" Zam's hand moves to her pistol. She isn't an expert shot exactly but, well, she'd been practicing those skills, too. "Tylur, what do you think?"
You all start to head down the walkway into the Dock proper. Just as Sybil expresses her concerns, Kreel sees the group and raises his hand to wave you over.
The air is suddenly filled with the sound of laser blasts. The 2 groups of humans that seemed to have found defensible positions start to shoot, seemily at eachother.
With the first blast, the entire dock erupts into chaos. Dock workers jump behind transport barrels , families drop to the floor, and some smoke fills the room.
Round 1 - Surprise round
All Gang Members
Sybil, Zamasea, DeeV8, Tylur, Iridar <- Sybil can go because she saw it happen. Everyone else has to skip this round.
Shots fill the air. One shot seems to be aimed straight at Kreel, striking him right in the chest, the Dwarf drops to the floor
Bolts of energy flash across the docking bay. Most shots seem to be aimed at the group opposite the one shooting. 2 Shots go stray striking 2 of your group.
1: Shot Kreel
2: Shot Sybil
5: Shot Tylur
A bolt of fire shot from one of the humans on the left strikes one of the others on the right right in the upper chest. His clothes catch fire.
As the halfling manages to dodge any hurtful effects of the blast these two factions seem to have gotten her attetion and quickly. "First order of business, get some damn cover and fast!"
Sybil runs forward into the Dock down up against some large cargo containers.
Fire keeps flashing across this large room. The human on the right, whos uniform was on fire, gets struck again. He seems to drop to the floor, clothes still burning.
Another blast strikes one of humans on the left side of the dock, hitting his side.
A few more bolts go stray, one striking Iridar, who is still standing on the ramp, right in the left leg.
Round 1
All Gang Members
Sybil, Zamasea, DeeV8, Tylur, Iridar <- Everyone can go. Don't worry about the order.
"Son of a..." Tylur grunts with the burn of the laser blast and stumbles after Sybil in an effort to protect her. Along the way, he frees his pulsecaster rifle from where it's strapped over his shoulder, gripping it in one hand as he hustles. He drops his pack behind the large cargo container, and then sets up a defensive position against one set of attackers while trusting Sybil to do the same against the other. Sighting a target, he squeezes off a quick shot.
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The drow sees the lazers, and drops his pack, drawing his own lazer-rifle and readying himself. He designates a target and his systems immediately go to work, sending him a full readout and display, he takes aim and fires
However the drow is caught up in the heat of the moment, and unlike his computer he didn't react very fast, his rifle fires the Lazer flying far over his Target's head. He curses and readies himself for the next shot, or to avoid one if needed.
Dee heard Sybil’s observations, looking exactly where she pointed out to. Undoing the strap of her pistol holster, pulling out her Azimuth Laser Pistol.
“I believe you are correct, there is a high probability that we may be caught in the crossfire.” The elf-droid had been in the heat of the action countless of times during her rebel cell missions. So this wasn’t her first time, nor will it ever be her last.
“This one suggests perhaps taking cover would be the appropriate action at this time Zam.” Dee replied, but before she could do anything Kreel was shot.
“By Weydan...Kreel has been hit.”
As bolts came in their direction, Dee saw Tylur and Sybil take a few shots of their own. “That is an appropriate suggestion.” The Android replied, finding any sort of cover.
Raising her hand, her circuitry tattoos glowing brightly as she gathered magical energy. purplish digital runes appeared before her as Dee hurled her Daze spell towards her closest target.
Zam gasps as first Kreel, then Tylur and Sybil, then Iridar take fire. She races after Dee, her pack bouncing awkwardly on her back, and dives behind a shipping crate to find cover. She draws her laser pistol, hands trembling slightly, and tries to figure out who the bad guys are.
AS Sbyil draws her own way from behind the protection of the crate she attempts to discern who these people fight are with no little luck in her recollection of the Stations ever changing factions.
She picks out the side with more individuals, the one that Tylur attempted to hit looks like a nice one and squeezes the trigger. The shot goes wide of her intended target.
,
Tylur rushes forward near the left side of the dock, finding some cover behind a large container. Taking a shot at the closest target. Waiting the split second to find an opening over the cover it has, zapping it for a bit of energy. You can see it course through its body as he jerks a bit.
The closest target to DeeV8 grabs his head, and seems to be struggling to stand.
You get the impression that these are two gangs. From what you can tell the shot that targeted Kreel came from the right side of the dock. It looked planned and targeted. The humans on the left seem to be focused purely on the other gang on the right.
This may very well be some type of turf war, but it looks like the gang on the right came to kill Kreel, while the gang of the left was focused on shooting the gang on the right.
Laser fire continues. A stray shot hits the barrel Zam is standing behind, just singing a bit of her hair, luckily missing her antenna.
The gang member dazed by Zam is still grabbing his head, unable to continue the strike.
The gang member at the top left part of the dock gets struck by a bolt coming from the right side. This guy is not looking good.
Round 2
A1 , A2, A3
, B1 , B2, B3
Sybil, Zamasea, DeeV8, Tylur, Iridar <- Everyone can go. Don't worry about the order.
Tylur pops up to take another shot at his target (), trying to further disorient him in preparation for closing on his position.
Regardless of his success, the big soldier edges around his crates and hurries toward the barrels his opponent is using for cover, keeping low until he too can duck down on the opposite side.
Happy to see her target dazed, Dee begins to cast another spell. Swirls appearing into the air, the violet digital script materializes from her spell shooting out towards her dazed target.
Zam's blue brow crinkles as she frowns in concentration trying to "read" the gang fight. From the looks of it, Kreel had been the intended target for one of these gangs, while the other has come to engage in some kind of...turf war? She's out of touch with her street slang, but she thinks she grasps the basic concept.
Who'd want to kill Kreel? Whether the dwarf is alive or dead remains to be seen, as there's no easy way to get to him with all the cross-fire.
"Nice, Dee!" she calls, as Dee manages to daze one of the gangmembers. To her left, Tylur seems likely to draw the attention of three shooters to his north. She takes aim at one at whom she seems to have an open shoot, trying to cover him. She pulls the trigger of her azimuth laser pistol, a bolt of red-hot energy shrieks across the vast room, but strikes the crate near her target.
"Blast!" she curses, looking around for an easier target. Spontaneously, she runs from behind her crate, northeast to another series of shipping containers.
What are you doing? What are you doing?
Tylur does a quick shot to the enemy behind the boxes near him, then swifly moves out from cover and hides against some boxes, making sure he is within range attack up close next round.
DeeV8 shoots 3 bolts of electric blue orbs out, each one taking a slightly different trajectory toward the enemy. They meet the gang member with a splash of blue light. The gang member drops to the floor.
Current Map: Link
Round 2
A1 Badly Injured, A2, A3 Injured by Tylur, B1 Dead, B2, B3 Dead
Sybil, Zamasea, DeeV8, Tylur, Iridar <- Here
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Iridar looks around quickly, looking for something to use as cover. He moves twards the boxes on his left and makes position behind them
He then takes aim at his target again, firing his rifle this time his aiming system comes into much better use. It calculates the target's movement and Iridar fires at the oportune moment
A long red beam of light projects from Iridar's rifle and lands square in his target's chest, dropping him to the ground.
Sybil seeing the magic missiles fly out from DeeV8 she turns to the gang member to the north of her, the only remaining gang member on that side. Focusing on her inner power she projects Shooting Stars out and directed to the target.
Shots continue to fly around the Cargo bay. DeeV8, standing out in the open gets hit by a blast. The last gang member on the right, being hit by the Shooting Stars, looks around and sees Zam behind the boxes and shoots, narrowly hitting her beyond the cover.
As Tylur approaches the last remaining gang member on the left hears him mumble "Dang Kings, just die already"
Round 3
A2, A3 Injured by Tylur, B2
Sybil, Zamasea, DeeV8, Tylur, Iridar <- Here
Current Map Picture: Link
Zam lines up her next shot, resting her elbow on the crate to steady her aim. But she's made herself an easy target. A lesson she'll remember going forward.
She gasps as a searing pain explodes through her left shoulder where the laser strikes her. Naturally, her shot misses, flying far awry of her intended target as she clutches the wound and falls back behind her crate.
And now she doesn't even make the effort to speak, instead telepathically transmitting to her allies the location of the gangster who shot her.
Over there, behind the crates!
Zam, trembling from the shock of being shot, nods. Right. Her antennae vibrate almost imperceptibly as she reaches out and finds the minds of the gang members.
You're outnumbered and your friends are down. But there's a way out of this. Surrender, drop your weapons, and I'll try to convince the big man with the gun not to hurt you.
She touches her shoulder. Even if you deserve it.
Trusting his comrades to handle the right side of the docking bay, Tylur tries to mentally respond to Zam's telepathy. He has no idea if lashuntas are capable of hearing his thoughts, but he recalled a telepath on Akiton doing something similar for one of his old units.
"I'll hold things down over here," he thinks, "See if you guys can keep the others pinned down and I'll be right there."
As Tylur approaches the last remaining gang member on the left hears him mumble, "Dang Kings, just die already..."
Using the attacker's voice to move in on his position, Tylur stays low as he circles the barrels he's using for cover. Leaning around the corner, he fires his rifle once again and then ducks down again.
"You've threatened enough lives today!" Tylur calls out over the sounds of battle echoing across the docking bay, "Station security will be here any minute! If they don't put you down, I will! So, drop your weapon! Now!"
“Thank you for the emotional support it is highly appreciated in our current endeavor.” The elf droid’s became stern but still managed to give Zam a playful sly wink. However miss judging her cover angle, Dee was hit in the shoulder. Shrugging it off, she hears the Lashunta’s telepathic communication.
“Perhaps a suggestion of capture?” Dee calls out for anyone to hear. Moving into cover next to Zam , the Android hopes that the cover is adequate. ”Are you able to provide for said suggestion?” Dee hoped that Zam understood what she was asking.
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Irirdar opens one of the boxes in front of him, but rather than taking what's inside he simply uses the lid to create a larger cover. he then takes aim once more,looking to shoot at the next closest target, although he couldnt target them with his readout to get full advantage. although it seems his reliance on the system is his downfall as he barely fires in their general direction, missing by a long shot.
The small woman is hoping to end this quickly as she wants to check on Kreel. She takes a peek around the side of the barrel she is behind and raises up her rifle to take a shot at one of the apparent gang members far across the way...