SPACE JESUS: MASS EFFECT FAWTL

Game Master Freehold DM

Hestia watches Theron intently as he speaks, then gives a short nod. "Understood. I hope it comes to nothing. Stay loose in there, though."

She is terse, focused, and impassive, and clearly has her game face on for this little jaunt.

It is unclear whether Dern is a "morning person" - he seemingly exhibits the same nervous energy at all times of day. With a "down to business" air, he quickly readies himself and sets out to ensure he is punctual to the meeting.

It is unclear whether Dern is a "morning person" - he seemingly exhibits the same nervous energy at all times of day. With a "down to business" air, he quickly readies himself and sets out to ensure he is punctual to the meeting.

Grace is absolutely not a morning person, especially given the troubled sleep she's had the last few night cycles onboard ship. Still, years of light sleeping ensures that she's up ahead of schedule. Giving each of the team members a nod as she moves through the crew quarters, Grace makes her way to the commissary for a much-needed cup of tea before heading to the briefing.

Theron nods, "Always. Especially when I don't have a Krogan Warband to watch my six."

"If you had one, that might be useful."

Hestia follows Grace to the chow hall and follows the example of getting something hot and caffeinated, figuring that if her CO does it, she can't get chewed out for it.

She arrives at the meeting on time. The sooner we get done with this, the sooner we can eat breakfast.

Theron chuckles grimly, "Not since the coma, no," then watches his squadmates head down the hall to the mess. I guess the 'before breakfast' part was considered optional by some?, he sighs as he heads to the meeting.

Hestia shoots Theron a quizzical glance before hurrying behind Grace.

In the briefing room, she throws herself into a chair and sips coffee through the hole in the lid, relishing the sensation of synapses bathing in caffeine and glucose. When those synapses start firing, she turns to Dern.

"I assume you researched today's planet. Did you find any new or exciting intel?"

A realization hits her, and she addresses Theron before Dern can answer. "So, first place we stopped, we captured an old Cerberus hermit playing with droids and doggies. When we got him to sick bay, he, uh... melted. Before he went, he gave us this address. It's here." She twitches her head planet-ward and transmits the address file to Theron in case he hadn't received it in his introductory briefing from the captain.

Theron blinks, "Melted? Like... what? Some sort of nano-tech ate him from within? Or like something inside him burned out?"

He looks at the address, trying to recall if he'd ever heard it before.

Theron blinks, "Melted? Like... what? Some sort of nano-tech ate him from within? Or like something inside him burned out?"

He looks at the address, trying to recall if he'd ever heard it before.

"Grey goo, the tech guys said. Yeah, some nano- thing." Hestia waves a hand, dismissing non-biotic powers.

Theron shudders, "Hate to think that could be inside someone, just waiting to be activated...." I have to think that my prolonged medical stay on Terra would have found it?

Hestia stares at Theron for a second, a vague look of nausea on her face. "Yeah... uh, good pep talk."

Theron chuckles grimly, "Just think of how useful it'll be to finish dismantling the people who would do those things."

Dern looks as if this is suddenly a novel idea. "Hacking self-destructive nanotechnology?" He hastily makes an entry into the storage of his omnitool. "Either a new avenue for research, or a great premise for some fan fiction."

Satisfied, he turns back to the matter at hand. "I looked up what I could regarding our destination..."

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

Hestia buries her nose in her coffee mug and ups her caffeine intake as she listens to her companions.

They're all crazy except Grace and me. And I'm not real sure about Grace.

Satisfied, he turns back to the matter at hand. "I looked up what I could regarding our destination..."

"What exactly did you find? I'm not a fan of being as in the dark as we are right now, and we're going to need all the help we can get."

"Either a new avenue for research, or a great premise for some fan fiction."

A moment after her previous comment, Grace seems to freeze in place for a split second as she looks at Dern, an odd expression on her face.

"Wait... did you just say fan fiction?"

”It is a creative outlet,” Dern shrugs.

Waiting for the results of the Academics roll to figure out if I know anything to share about our destination.

Dern looks as if this is suddenly a novel idea. "Hacking self-destructive nanotechnology?" He hastily makes an entry into the storage of his omnitool. "Either a new avenue for research, or a great premise for some fan fiction."

Satisfied, he turns back to the matter at hand. "I looked up what I could regarding our destination..."

[dice=Academics]4d3-8+2

”It can be difficult to discern fact from fiction when it comes to news out of Noveria. The latest conspiracy theories are that a vast megacorporation controls all of the corps operating on the planet. That would sound ludicrous, but certainly wouldn’t be the strangest thing to come out of Noveria.”

Theron shakes his head, "It would, but we're also talking about Cerberus... Setting up a dozen front companies would be exactly the sort of thing they'd do -- and not tell the employees, to make sure they all compete for contracts and business."

Hestia hmms into her coffee, frowning thoughtfully.

"And employees. 'Hire' the good ones into the strongest companies, then fold the weak companies to avoid having to cut deadwood periodically. Cut companies, not staff. Easier that way, and maybe less fallout in the future. But there are more megacorporations than just Cerberus. Some of the larger gangs might even attempt something like that, to have legitimate income."

Sometime after breakfast and conversation, you have your meeting with Lieutenant Vaws. She seems in a slightly less worse mood than usual today, which is interesting. After everyone is in her office, she begins her briefing.

"Okay, before you touch down on Noveria, we need to go over the standard preamble. Do not, for any reason, sign anything, be photographed in front of anything, be recorded endorsing anything, agree to any private tours of anywhere, accept prototypes of anything, shop in any private stores or boutiques, or adopt any children that are considered to be legally employed by anywhere, or any animals that are considered to be the mascots of any agencies."

She actually proffers a datapad that has a boilerplate agreement not to do anything she listed.

["Look, I know we are all professionals here, but this is Noveria we are talking about. We need to cover our asses, as it were."

”Reasonable enough,” Dern concedes. ”I make it a general principle not to adopt children during ops.” He readily provides his electronic signature.

"That's disappointing. I always look forward to shopping on Noveria. It's my favorite planet in the galaxy." Hestia takes the datapad and adds her own sig, then passes it along.

Theron says, "Look, in my line of work, avoiding being photographed is a strong preference, but I'm a little wary of signing something that states I'm responsible for the behaviour of others with cameras.. and I'm not going to start hunting down tourists or tradesmen who may have snapped something with us in frame. Unless this is strictly about publicity shots, in which case, no problem."

"Look, I know we are all professionals here, but this is Noveria we are talking about. We need to cover our asses, as it were."

Grace nods her agreement.

"No arguments from me, ma'am, I understand. Reminds me of when I was stationed on Illium. Back before the War. When it was... well, not like it is now..."

She glances down at the deck, a slightly uncomfortable expression crossing her face for a second as she hands back the datapad, but when she looks back up, she appears once again calm and collected.

"Sorry about that, ma'am. Anything else we'll need to worry about while we're planetside?"

"I was hoping to punch some tourist photographers," Hestia mutters.

Theron says, "Look, in my line of work, avoiding being photographed is a strong preference, but I'm a little wary of signing something that states I'm responsible for the behaviour of others with cameras.. and I'm not going to start hunting down tourists or tradesmen who may have snapped something with us in frame. Unless this is strictly about publicity shots, in which case, no problem."

Certainly, this only covers photos that could make it look like Relay Inspection Teams are endorsing a product or service. That said, keeping a low profile is encouraged, which I doubt you will have a problem with."

You are unsure if her smirk is due to her scar or that she knows more about you than she lets on.

Who is that masked DM? wrote:

"Look, I know we are all professionals here, but this is Noveria we are talking about. We need to cover our asses, as it were."

Grace nods her agreement.

"No arguments from me, ma'am, I understand. Reminds me of when I was stationed on Illium. Back before the War. When it was... well, not like it is now..."

She glances down at the deck, a slightly uncomfortable expression crossing her face for a second as she hands back the datapad, but when she looks back up, she appears once again calm and collected.

"Sorry about that, ma'am. Anything else we'll need to worry about while we're planetside?"

Nothing else. As I said, we're all professionals here. Just watch your six and don't do anything I wouldn't do. I understand you will not be using the autopilot for this mission, which is understandable. Specialist Gir will be responsible for drop off and pickup.

Grace nods and salutes.

"Understood, ma'am. Permission to be dismissed?"

Grace nods and salutes.

"Understood, ma'am. Permission to be dismissed?"

She stands sharply at attention and dismisses all of you. It seems the mission is underway.

Theron nods at the confirmation, his face a mask though his eyes indicating he's pleased. He stands in response to the Lieutenant, then nods at the dismissal.

Right, now let's see how things go...

He asks, "Sarge, any pre-orders, or will we assess the tactical situation on the ground?"

Hestia looks with dismay at the bottom of her empty coffee. "Can we discuss this over breakfast?"

”Ooh, I hope they have waffles!” Dern says with enthusiasm.

Theron chuckles, "As long as we have our priorities."

Hestia rises and stretches. "I'm a growing young biotic. We require a lot of energy. Yummy waffle energy!" And she hustles to the mess for fuel before anyone can drag her to the shuttle.

"Unfortunately, Noveria is civilized. I'd rather explore ruins like in the last place. More people, more noise, more potential enemies, more potential collateral damage if the situation goes south," she muses before stuffing her face with waffles.

Sitting down with his waffles, he opens a small sealed container and spreads the vile-looking contents atop them. ”Jellied roe. Breakfast of champions,” he comments before tucking in greedily.

”I share your concern, Miss Harper,” he says between mouthfuls. ”I have much wider latitude with my artillery in uninhabited spaces. This mission will certainly pose unique challenges.”

Hestia looks with dismay at the bottom of her empty coffee. "Can we discuss this over breakfast?"

Grace nods, giving Hestia a small smile.

"Alright, everyone, let's take fifteen and hit the galley before we head to the armory."

”I share your concern, Miss Harper,” he says between mouthfuls. ”I have much wider latitude with my artillery in uninhabited spaces. This mission will certainly pose unique challenges.”

"Absolutely. We'll all have to be on our best behavior, and can't afford to let our guard down under any circumstances. Also, remember what I said last time about setting off explosives around fragile walls and the like. Or... anywhere, really."

She pauses briefly, appearing to be giving some thought to the matter.

"By the way, Dern..."

Grace looks up from her own plate at the salarian, then points to his choice of breakfast spread.

"... would it be alright if I tried some of that? Feel free to say no, but it doesn't look half bad."

Dern’s eyes light up at the request. ”Of course! I find that humans typically find salarian fare off-putting, but they do not know what they are missing! This being an Alliance vessel, I had to arrange for a case of this to be available here. It’s better fresh, but the canned stuff will do in a pinch.”. He happily shares some with Grace and eagerly watches her, waiting for her reaction after the first bite.

Dern’s eyes light up at the request. ”Of course! I find that humans typically find salarian fare off-putting, but they do not know what they are missing! This being an Alliance vessel, I had to arrange for a case of this to be available here. It’s better fresh, but the canned stuff will do in a pinch.”. He happily shares some with Grace and eagerly watches her, waiting for her reaction after the first bite.

After taking a bite, Grace goes through an impressive series of expressions, ranging from quizzical to pensive.

"I... I don't hate this. Actually... it's alright. Reminds me a little of the time my dad tried making Roman garum from a 2,000-year-old recipe book he brought home from work. Maybe crossed with a little of that cheap jhel sauce you get in asari MREs. Minus the eezo aftertaste, of course."

She spreads the remainder of the small dollop over her breakfast and finishes it, apparently analyzing the strange flavor carefully. Finally, she looks at Dern inquisitively.

"How do you feel about Marmite?"

Theron watches carefully, It seems clear that whatever was happening with her was regulating her emotions, and she's just learning to deal with it now... He shakes his head, then chuckles, Or maybe the waffles just really are that good... and follows the others to the mess.

”I’m not familiar with this ‘marmite’,” Dern confesses, ”but I will try anything once!”

Hestia watches Grace try Salarian waffles with interest but no real emotion, though she looks somewhat baffled by the idea of 'dad bringing home a book from work.' She takes the time to polish off her own breakfast, then (after washing everything down with more coffee), tries to get back to planning.

"I agree with Dern who agrees with me. My biotics ain't exactly subtle. I'm sure that's a big surprise. Guess we need to play strict defense on this one, though I hate letting others get in the first shot."

Seeing that the others haven't wolfed down their entire breakfast in seconds, she hops up from her seat with a quick 'be right back' over her shoulder and trots back to the mess line. After a brief conversation, she takes two bottles from the attendant and returns to the table. One she clips to her belt, and the other she pushes toward Theron, using just her fingertips.

"Biotic energy supplement for mission days," she explains somewhat awkwardly, not looking at the newcomer. "Kept in the mess." She shrugs.

Theron arches an eyebrow, "That... might be very helpful. Thanks.", and stands, then holds for a moment, "Sarge? Did the mission brief talk about the legality of long blades? I'd really hate to leave the sword behind, but this isn't Omega and I don't want to attract attention either."

"Dress in costume and say you're advertising a play or fair or something," Hestia suggests seriously. "Something old-timey that a sword would go with."

Theron arches an eyebrow, "That... might be very helpful. Thanks.", and stands, then holds for a moment, "Sarge? Did the mission brief talk about the legality of long blades? I'd really hate to leave the sword behind, but this isn't Omega and I don't want to attract attention either."

"Dress in costume and say you're advertising a play or fair or something," Hestia suggests seriously. "Something old-timey that a sword would go with."

Grace gives a soft, good-natured laugh at Hestia's suggestion.

"You might be on to something there. Maybe we could all get kitted out with some proper brigandine and crossbows while we're at it. That way, at least we'd all match."

Her tone becoming more serious, she addresses Theron, not quite meeting his eyes, but keeping an even tone.

"From what I've been told, you shouldn't have to worry. For starters, we'll be attracting attention just being there. Out of all of us, speaking in terms of gear, I'd guess that my rifle would probably attract the most attention, honestly. Unless someone recognizes you. Either way, bring whatever you need."

She shrugs, then briefly turns to Dern, her demeanor still somewhat friendly, but definitely more neutral than before.

"I haven't got any on me, but if we ever stop at the Citadel, I'll see if I can buy you a jar. I think you might like it."

Collecting her tray and utensils, Grace deposits them on the small conveyor headed toward the sanitation unit, then addresses the group.

"Best if we finish up and get moving. Meet at the armory in five."

Giving a small nod, she turns and leaves the galley.

"Yes, Sarge," Hestia replies automatically, then finds a bio-station for a quick pit stop before meeting up with the team in the armory.

She dons her armor and shield generator, slips her knife in a pocket to hide it, and checks and double-checks her Predator pistol before strapping it on. Moving to the doorway to make room for the others to gear up, she taps her Omnitool, studies the data displayed there for a while, then banishes the display with a gesture.

She takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, then sighs it out, relaxing as she does, until she is still and poised, half-lidded eyes looking at nothing in particular as she waits for the more heavily armed and armored teammates to finish their preparation.

Dern goes to fetch his gear, and arrives at the armory ready to disembark.