SPACE JESUS: MASS EFFECT FAWTL

Game Master Freehold DM

Theros watches the Sergeant leave, then checks his gear one last time, Might not have needed it for the VR, but I guess it's time..., then grabs a last muffin and a tube of the biotic-fuel.

With practiced ease, Grace suits up in her battered suit of non-standard-issue combat armor, taking extra time to make sure her rifle is in good working order before securing it on its hardpoint. Shooting a backward glance at Theron as he readies his armor and painfully-familiar microsteel blade, Grace heads toward the rendezvous point, ready for the team to disembark. As their shuttle warms up for departure, she speaks quietly to Dern.

"When we get back... I've already burned through everything I brought to read twice over. Do you think I could take a look some of that fan fiction you mentioned?"

She flashes Dern a quick grin as she double-checks her loadout of thermal clips.

If it were possible for salarians to blush, Dern would likely do so. ”Why, Sergeant, I suppose I could show you where to find them. There are some likeminded communities of folk out there from all over the galaxy. The exchange of ideas is... stimulating.”

Dern looks down to assure that all of his gear is in a proper state of readiness, although he has already done so at least four times.

When the party boards the shuttle, Hestia pops her head into the cockpit to greet Gir. "I wish you were going with us, but there's nobody I trust more to get us out if necessary."

She flops into a seat, fastens her restraints loosely, and curls up on her side, apparently asleep.

Gir gives a quiet nod and moves the shuttle into first space and then atmosphere. The trip planetside is quite smooth, Gir seems to have a way with the piloting systems, it's almost as if the AI never left. You touch down at Port Hanshan and Gir states he will be here when it is time to leave.

Noveria seems just as corporate as ever- through the modish glass-and-titanium architecture that goes through asari, turian, human, and even volus influences before ultimately decides upon neither, one can see all manner of well dressed professionals going about their day in a manner that suggests leisure but is in truth efficiency. And none are more efficient than the Elanus Risk Control Security forces who are the literal gatekeepers, staring down the party as they walk down the corridor from the spaceport.

A particularly muscular turian in an already intimidating ERCS uniform steps out from his fellows and calls for the party to halt, meeting you halfway between the port and the security checkpoint. The trio of heavily armed women behind him lend an aire of authority to his request.

Theron watches them come, then whispers, "Well, that looks like a less than ideal start to things... Want me to try to disappear into another group, Sarge?"

Hestia rolls her eyes at the ERCS squad and leans against the nearest wall, waiting for Grace to get them cleared through. She makes no effort to hide an expression that says she smells something bad when regarding the turian, especially since she doubts the creature can read her face. With a deeply bored and put-upon sigh, she activates her Omnitool and ticks through the news of the day.

A particularly muscular turian in an already intimidating ERCS uniform steps out from his fellows and calls for the party to halt, meeting you halfway between the port and the security checkpoint. The trio of heavily armed women behind him lend an aire of authority to his request.

Theron watches them come, then whispers, "Well, that looks like a less than ideal start to things... Want me to try to disappear into another group, Sarge?"

As the group approaches the security detail, Grace whispers to Theron, making sure to look the man in the eye.

"No, we'll handle this. Make sure you stay well within sight."

Addressing the turian, Grace keeps her expression friendly, and makes a point of keeping her hands at her sides, fully in view of the security detail and away from her rifle. As she speaks, she gestures to her companions in turn.

"Afternoon, officers. I'm Sergeant Wright, Citadel Defence Force. With me are Specialist Dern, and Officers Iskios and Harper. I hope we're not keeping you from anything important, we're just here on a bit of business."

Attempting to SMOOTH OVER the situation, Grace flashes the turian officer a warm smile.

"By the way, is there any chance you could point the way to the closest duty-free shop? We've been aboard ship for weeks, and we're clean out for refreshments. Illium Gold Label elasa and Jim Beam Black, to be specific."

She shrugs.

"Since we're here, is there anything I can help you with?"

Rapport: 4d3 - 8 + 5 ⇒ (3, 3, 2, 2) - 8 + 5 = 7

Theron blinks at the statement, then nods, "Understood.".

He takes a moment and forces himself to relax as the officer approaches, despite his instincts telling him to dodge and hide. Centered, he allows himself a wry smile, I guess we'll see if the good Sergeant is capable of subtlety... Though I thought that's was why they asked me to join this little team.

Who is that masked DM? wrote:

A particularly muscular turian in an already intimidating ERCS uniform steps out from his fellows and calls for the party to halt, meeting you halfway between the port and the security checkpoint. The trio of heavily armed women behind him lend an aire of authority to his request.

Theron Iskios wrote:

Theron watches them come, then whispers, "Well, that looks like a less than ideal start to things... Want me to try to disappear into another group, Sarge?"

As the group approaches the security detail, Grace whispers to Theron, making sure to look the man in the eye.

"No, we'll handle this. Make sure you stay well within sight."

Addressing the turian, Grace keeps her expression friendly, and makes a point of keeping her hands at her sides, fully in view of the security detail and away from her rifle. As she speaks, she gestures to her companions in turn.

"Afternoon, officers. I'm Sergeant Wright, Citadel Defence Force. With me are Specialist Dern, and Officers Iskios and Harper. I hope we're not keeping you from anything important, we're just here on a bit of business."

Attempting to SMOOTH OVER the situation, Grace flashes the turian officer a warm smile.

"By the way, is there any chance you could point the way to the closest duty-free shop? We've been aboard ship for weeks, and we're clean out for refreshments. Illium Gold Label elasa and Jim Beam Black, to be specific."

She shrugs.

"Since we're here, is there anything I can help you with?"

[dice="Rapport]4d3-8+5

The turian offers a professional smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, but seems genuinely amused. "This is Noveria, Sergeant, no such thing as "duty free" here, BUT, if you hand your weapons over to my own officers, I can show you to a bar that has a few connections to Illium. Maybe even find you some of that Gold Label, hmm?"

You can't help but notice there is one ECRS guard for each of you.

Theron tries not to wince, And that would be why we don't rush headlong into customs and guards, as a general practice.. He sighs and says, "I thought we could legally carry here. Seems we were misinformed. Do you mind if we put them back on the shuttle - just so we don't need to bother anyone when we leave."

"I'm sure there's no law against interfering with a RITS team, right?" Hestia remarks, still fiddling with her Omnitool. "Maybe they don't care if their relay works. What's the worst that could happen? They'd be cut off until another team could somehow get out here. That won't compromise the flow of goods and services. Not at all."

"I'm sure there's no law against interfering with a RITS team, right?" Hestia remarks, still fiddling with her Omnitool. "Maybe they don't care if their relay works. What's the worst that could happen? They'd be cut off until another team could somehow get out here. That won't compromise the flow of goods and services. Not at all."

SOMETHING moves behind the turian's eyes- fear, perhaps?- but he smoothly rolls into, "Officer, we have nothing but the utmost respect for Relay Inspection Teams. However after The Spectre Incident, we are quite serious about non ECRS personnel walking around armed. We can have you return your weapons to your ship, or we can escort you as you go about your duties. The choice is yours.

"How about deputizing us as long as we're here? We're already in service. We take your oath as auxiliaries, get a little badge, and keep our weapons. That way, we can get our job done safely and not pull you away from your important duties. Everybody wins." Hestia smirks. "And isn't that what good business is all about?"

"How about deputizing us as long as we're here? We're already in service. We take your oath as auxiliaries, get a little badge, and keep our weapons. That way, we can get our job done safely and not pull you away from your important duties. Everybody wins." Hestia smirks. "And isn't that what good business is all about?"

The turian flashes a smile. "A deputy, huh? Hm. That's something. I would be the...sharif? Is that it?"

Dern appears genuinely surprised that that idea gained any traction at all.

Hestia finally looks up from her Omnitool, also surprised that the turian might be considering the idea and somewhat suspicious that she's being played.

"Ayup, Sheriff, that's right. We're not here to cause you heartburn, we're here to see that the wheels of commerce turn smoothly. We ran into a pack of bad dogs at our last site, so we know that unexpected things happen. Nobody's fault. We just want to get the job done and go, Sheriff." Hestia returns the turian's smile.

Theron watches carefully, forcing a friendly, helpful expression onto his face, rather than an apprehensive one.

The turian smiles and asks for a moment to speak to his superiors. He steps behind the ladies and his omnitool glows. It's not easy to make out what he is saying without an Alertness check.

Hestia slips up next to Grace and whispers, "If they kick up a fuss, feel free to yell at me for insubordination and make nice with the aliens. I'll sulk."

In the meantime, she strains to overhear the turian.

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

Alertness: 1 + 4d3 - 8 ⇒ 1 + (2, 1, 3, 1) - 8 = 0

Hestia slips up next to Grace and whispers, "If they kick up a fuss, feel free to yell at me for insubordination and make nice with the aliens. I'll sulk."

In the meantime, she strains to overhear the turian.

Grace leans in toward the shorter woman and whispers a reply.

"Nah, this is on me. Thought I might be able to smooth things over, but I guess I'm a bit of a fish out of water here. If it comes down to it, though, we'll figure something out. Either way, thanks for having my back. I mean it."

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

Sorry. It's been an exciting few days. I'll do everyone's successes as a group.

"Yes, RITS. Will our insurance carry them if they're deputized? Okay, I think I can get one of them to sign the forms, probably the sargent...

Hestia sends a message to the others via her Omnitool so they can't be overheard.

If this works, you guys are gonna owe me beers.

I never knew I wanted to be a deputy on Novaria, but suddenly I very much do.

If I can keep my sword, I'll get you a whole keg.

The ladies part like a curtain for the turian, and he walks over to the party with a series of forms on his omnitool for someone to sign, although his eyes flick towards Grace during his stroll over.

"If you'll just sign here, you will be considered a temporary part of our agency, with all the rights and responsibilities that involves."

Grace steps forward.

"Sure thing, I appreciate your being so understanding under the circumstances. And like I said, let me know if there's anything we can do to help."

She keys her omni-tool to transfer the documents, then sends them back with her e-signature.

Beers, Hestia sends the other Omnitools, while trying to keep the look of sullen boredom on her face.

Theron nods his head in agreement with Grace's offer of help, but otherwise says nothing. Ok, maybe this is a better outcome than hiding in the crowd...

And with that, all of Noveria is open to you. The women and their turian superior kind of melt into the background. The question is- where to next? Directly seek out whom you are looking for, or perhaps take a note from the ERCS you have allied yourselves with and melt into the surroundings before moving on?

Hestia notes the change of status on her Omnitool with glum satisfaction. "Oh joy. Here we are on Noveria." She scowls at the device. "And I bet that since we're deputized, we can't even get bounties on wanted criminals."

She sighs and looks to Grace. "Now what, Sarge?"

Grace looks around at the team and their surroundings, appearing somewhat uncertain.

"Alright... from what I remember, if we want to get to Site: Phoebe, we'll have to find Reverend Building 5, Room 101 and look up someone called Dalton Young. I'll admit, though, information gathering isn't my strong suit, and we're all going to have to be extra careful coming up with a plan. What does everyone think?"

Theron shrugs, "We should probably try to get a first look - best to know all we can before we reach out to speak to this Mr. Young... and that might include figuring out the best possible time and place for that conversation."

"I do not know what to expect until we arrive. Let us see what awaits us," Dern says.

Hestia shoves herself off the wall with a shrug of her shoulder. "Right. S'go case the joint and see if someone's around to chat up."

Theron nods, "Works for me - especially like doing the legwork before exposing ourselves in contacting Mr. Young."

Hestia scans the nearbly buildings and crowd. "Dead normal. Don't know why I was freaked out about this place," she mutters, half to herself.

The Reverend Building area isn't too hard to find. A series of rather severe looking edifices that stick out from the uniformly Corp comfortable architecture of Noveria. There IS a strangely religious atmosphere here, the buildings do look like repurposed earth cathedrals in passing, although they have been wholly given over to worldly concerns as numerous medium sized businesses have purchased entire floors. Some of the upper floors are doubtless residences- the views are too spectacular for anything else. Passing by one you notice an unusual quirk- the smaller the number, the higher the address is- number 1 would be the penthouse, and number 101 would be the start of the private residences- whoever this guy is, he's living high on the proverbial hog.

Theron looks up and whistles, "Well, now, that might be a challenge. Though, one advantage of mixed-use buildings like this is that we might be able to gain preliminary access by targeting something other than our quarry."

"Isn't the usual method of gathering information to stop in a bar and buy drinks?" Hestia asks. "I've been trained more in blow-em-up tactics."

”I was never one for that sort of subterfuge myself. Probably why I never fit in with STG. Direct is usually best, I suppose blowing the facade off the building might attract unwanted attention.”

"Isn't the usual method of gathering information to stop in a bar and buy drinks?" Hestia asks. "I've been trained more in blow-em-up tactics."

"I'll admit, this is pretty far from my area of expertise. Normally, I'd just ask around, but here it's a different story."

Theron looks up and whistles, "Well, now, that might be a challenge. Though, one advantage of mixed-use buildings like this is that we might be able to gain preliminary access by targeting something other than our quarry."

Grace narrows her eyes, looking at Theron.

"I know I'm going to regret asking this, but... what did you have in mind?"

Theron says, "Depends on the goal -- intel, or access, I mean. But, if we're jumping ahead to getting in, the short version is to know what else is in the building, pick a business and use it for access. For instance, we're the new infotech specialist contractors here to do the infrastructure upgrade for the law firm on 6. Or we're here responding to the systems failure happening at the clerk's office on 8. All depends how well we can fake credentials, and/or create a problem that needs solving. In any case, now we're in the building and past the well-guarded lobby -- and the guards know we're supposed to be there. We then make sure that we're making noise where we should be -- looping security feed cameras, for instance -- and then sneak our way up from there."

He shrugs, "But, if we're just here to case the joint -- not a bad first idea -- then I'd say the best bet is to make a delivery to the lowest residential level. I'm sure someone's ordered something - and if not, I'm sure a database could be made to think so -- it'll let us see what the process is to go through security to the residential levels up above -- including the elevator, hallways, everything. Ideally, we'd record the delivery process, in case whomever's eyeballs miss something on the first pass. But, for the low cost of a pizza or small counter appliance, we leave with a host of good planning intel."

”The best person for such a delivery might be you, Theron. Perhaps I could link to you Omnitool and scan the automated security systems from your position inside.”

Hestia nods. "Sounds like a plan. And as a second prong of the plan, I can go lean on people in bars." She smacks a fist into her hand, lookiing menacing.

Theron nods, "I'm sure we can find ourselves a convenient uniform to help accomplish that."

Huh, I thought the Tripwire Sensibilities stunt would work here, but it's only if I'm about to trigger an alarm or trap -- not if I'm actively looking for them.

We'll need to use the local datagrid to get a name and address for our delivery - whaetever it might be

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

"Maybe a Planetary Express courier uniform?" Hestia suggests.