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You've earned a vacation! That's what your wealthy patron told you after you completed the latest dangerous task they assigned you, and after the myriad perils you faced during that mission, you were inclined to agree. You've been cruising through the Drift for the past six days on your way to New Elysium, eager for some high-class, all-expenses paid rest and relaxation paid for by Paradise Resorts. It's only a matter of hours now before you reach your destination...
Within the sactum of his private quarters, Damonkayo meditates, as he does most mornings. The spacious room is well-appointed but spartan, with a minimalist kitchenette in one corner, a small collection of trophies along the back wall, and a hammock neatly tucked into another corner. Nearly the entire starboard-side wall is taken up by an expansive picture window, showing the riotous, shifting clouds of the Drift.
Damonkayo sits in the center of the room, eyes closed. The vesk is clearly showing his age - his scales are faded and cracked, wrinkles chart his face, and a menagerie of scars line his snout, arms, and chest. In front of him hovers a tiny star, red and turbulent with age. As it churns with power and energy, it throws soft shadows across the room.
After a few moments, a gentle 'ping' sounds over the intercom, and Damonkayo grins softly. Rising to his feet, the miniature star floats to sit over his left shoulder as he dons his protective gear and affixes two squat, bulky longarms to holsters over each shoulder so that they hang vertically, like sentinels. His outerwear consists of thin armor plates finished in a deep, dusty matte red accented by the exhaust burns of thruster ports mounted on his back, chest, and calves. The suit's hood, decorated in a cacophony of lenses and filters, is left dangling between the guns.
Leaving his room, Damonkayo walks quietly to the galley, where he is the first to appear. The sizable area, once a viewing deck, is home to a larger-than-life oil painting of a condescending elven woman. Damonkayo nods to the painting with a quiet, "Morning, Ma'am," before turning his attentions to crafting a pot of coffee.
"Finally. Someone made coffee besides me," Stefani grouses as she enters the galley. She has an open box of crackers in one hand and reaches in to pull one out and pop it into her mouth.
She's wearing a stained white tank-top and utility pants. Her boots clomp on the decking as she nimbly moves her sizable frame between the chairs to reach the counter where the coffee maker mutters away.
She pours herself a cup and takes a sip as she runs the fingers of one hand through her tousled red mop. She takes a seat next to the Vesk, leaving her box on the counter.
"So, what are your plans once we get there?" she says, turning her hazel eyes on the large Solarian.
The grizzled vesk inhales the vapors from the warm liquid in front of him for a moment before answering. An unfortunate scar twists his face into a semi-permenant scowl, but Stefani has known Damonkayo long enough to pay it no mind.
"Hot tub. Alcohol. Once I've grown bored of those, I'll see what else this fancy-pants resort has to offer. You?" He very casually swipes one of her crackers with a flick of the clawtips, nibbling at with surprising precision.
"All of the above," Stefani answers with a grin. "And add in a handsome pool boy that I'll ride until I can't stand him anymore." She stretches her arms out, displaying the seemingly random patches of ink that decorate her arms. "Then I'll find a different one." One calloused hand brushes through her hair again. "Do you know if they allow weapons at this place?"
According to some correspondence you did prior to leaving for the resort, you know that you won’t be expected to turn over any of your gear, though you will be asked to safely stow most of your armaments in your guest accommodations. The Diaspora can be a dangerous place, and while the resort has its own security detail, having competent fighters such as you around might put some of the other guests at ease. However, carrying large and obvious weapons and wearing heavy armor is generally frowned on and considered tacky.
"Do you know if they allow weapons at this place?"
Damonkayo shrugs dismissively. "Either way, it doesn't really matter. If we end up in a bind, I'll just flash my baby blues and everything will blow over." The grizzled vesk's bloodshot yellow eyes twinkle as he brushes the crumbs off his clawtips over his left shoulder, where an unseen force carries them around the miniature red star for a few tumultuous moments before they crash into the plasma arcs surrounding it. "I'm actually looking forward to stickin' em in a closet for a week. Get some weight off my old spine."
”Morning!” Xio greets the others cheerfully, flouncing into the galley in their latest preferred form: a human woman of average height, deathly pale, with inky black hair. She wears a translucent, shimmering robe, open in front, over supple armor even blacker than her hair.
She pours herself a cup of coffee, stirring in three generous spoonfuls of sugar, and leans back against the counter across from the others. ”I’m so ready for a vacation,” she practically moans.
"Yep, a vacation sounds good," Stefani says, agreeing with Xio. "It'll give me an excuse to take a shower," she adds with a smirk.
She raises one arm slightly and leans her head down to take a sample sniff. "About time too."
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”Morning!”
"Xio, I presume?" Damonkayo knows well who Xio is, but he really loves this joke.
She raises one arm slightly and leans her head down to take a sample sniff. "About time too."
"Tribute to the Conqueror, I lost my sense of smell years ago."
Meanwhile, in a nearby crew cabin, a humanoid form floats serenely above a bed near a spacious window showing the drift outside the swift craft. One might think the figure dead, perhaps a victim of a loss of cabin atmosphere. But in fact, such an event would not harm the android; she is alive and well and hard at work. The work is going on in the space between her consciousness and her compact computer tucked into a pocket in her Second Skin. Her hands shift at times, giving tactile instructions to shift computer files, which she can "see" in a kind of head's up display in front of her face.
Dr. Shabad Freebairn is deep in her preferred world of information where she is trying to uncover a mystery. She is a professional paranormal investigator and ever since solving the case of the Duchess of Marshallamar and her Lost Portfolio, Shabad has been casting about for a new paranormal mystery to solve. She is on her way to a gala resort opening where she has been invited to enjoy the facilities in return for giving the residents a series of lectures regaling them of her past adventures hunting for ghosts and other paranormal events.
She has decided that since she will be spending a bit of time at the new resort, she'd see if there is perhaps something at the resort that qualified as a paranormal anomaly. She does not expect that the resort owners, Paradise Resorts, would publicize such things, so she is sifting though data files relating to the construction of the resort and this has led her to research the history of the asteroid on which it was constructed. She has discovered a number of odd discrepancies between construction site records and medical records of people who were miners on the asteroid and others who worked on constructing the resort.
In the middle of cross referencing some of these anomalies, a voice speaks in her head (her computer's alarm system). She has programmed it to notify her when three or more of the other crew members are together in one room of the ship. Shabad has worked out a program that picks up shifts in the life support system output that only occur when a number of people are together in one room. The scientist knows she has a tendency to keep to herself but she is trying to do better at social skills. So she has the computer alert her to casual get-togethers so she can join them and get to know her fellow adventurers better and to let them get to know her.
She gives a series of commands her computer which then radios the commands to the environmental controls of the fancy crew quarters, once housing a Pact World ambassador. Lights come up, gravity returns to normal over the bed, and the android settles on the bed and then gets up to get dressed. In the dim light, she might be mistaken for a human female, but in normal light, the tell-tale marks of an android can be seen on her neck and forearms. She is five and a half feet tall with blonde hair in a short utility cut. Her eyes have mechanical elements built into them which reflect light, giving her face an exotic look. She pulls on a pair of jeans and covers her torso with a stylish white shirt. She finishes her casual ensemble with a laser pistol in a holster belted around her waist and covered by the fabric of the shirt. She only takes the pistol because the others recommended never leaving essential armor and weapons where they can't be had quickly in a moment of emergency.
She runs a comb through her hair, walks out of the luxurious room, and heads for the galley where the others are gathering. She strolls over to the coffee machine to pour herself a cup. "Good ..." she pauses to check her internal clock made visible by her computer as a digital scroll at the top of her field of view. "... morning everyone. How are you?" Her words came out sounding ever so slightly mechanical, her preferred way of letting people know she is an android, much the way certain accents let people know one is from a particular part of town or a particular planet.
”Hey Doc,” Xio greets Shabad with a grin, revealing more gleaming white teeth than a person should probably have.
Going back to addressing everyone, she begins to list off everything she wants to do at the resort. ”So first, I’m thinking an exfoliating mudbath, then a facial and a hot body wrap, and—oh, do they have any of those weird little fish that eat the dead skin off your feet?"
She sighs, and holds her pale arms out in front of her as if to examine them. "All this running around in space isn't good for my complexion.”
It’s difficult to tell if she’s joking, but at least in her current form, her skin is inhumanly smooth and unmarred.
"I don't know if I could handle those little fish," Stefani responds with a laugh. "I'm ticklish and I'd probably step on them. But the rest of that sounds really good."
She turns to smile at Doctor Freebairn. "Morning Doc," she says with a raised coffee cup. Her artificial eyes gleam in the ship's lighting.
Shabad pours a cup of coffee, taking it black, and sets it on the table before taking a seat, listening to the ongoing conversation. "Making plans for your time at the resort, sounds like," Shabad says. She decides she should reciprocate by stating her plans. Then she realizes she has not thought about what she will do at the resort beyond her plans to investigate something mysterious and interesting. She reflects that this is what she normally does while a vacation is supposed to be a change of pace.
"I'm just looking forward to doing whatever strikes my fancy," she injects into the conversation. "I expect they have various activities keyed to android physiology, but I honestly haven't looked into what that might be. But surprises are fun. Of course, it will be something of a working holiday for me, since I'll be doing a few lectures to entertain the paranormal dilettantes and a few book signings."
Stefani laughs again.
"You need to relax more, Doc," she says. "I think you need to get your boink on. Find someone that suits your fancy and get sweaty with 'em."
She walks over and refills her cup.
"It really clears your head."
Xio points at Stefani and bobs her head in profuse agreement. "Yeah, that. After the fish, I'm gonna be doing lots of that."
Shabad smiles at Stefani's suggestion, but knows such an experience would be the opposite of head clearing. Shabad has shied away from intimacy precisely because when she has found herself nearing such an encounter, her head fills with all manner of perplexities as to how she should behave, what the other person wants, needs, expects, thinks, feels... it overwhelms her and she flees from the situation rather than struggle with the uncertainty.
All she says is, "Technically, I don't sweat, so that might be difficult. But there are lots of things I can do to clear my head, so ..." She leaves the thought dangling, not sure whether it is better for others to think she is a player or to be honest and risk judgment.
"Anything new in the lecture notes, Doc? I can't sit in the hot tub forever," sparing a deprecating glance at the (apparent) humans, he adds "and I've sweat enough for two lifetimes, one way or the other."
"Just our most recent encounter on Marshallamar II. I'll leave out the part where that ghost set off your jetpack and you ended up in the lagoon." Shabad breaks a slight smile and sips her coffee.
"Actually, I've been doing a bit of research on Paradise Resort and this asteroid they built their new resort on. Used to be a mining operation there and, well, I've dug up indications that multiple miners and also workers on the resort grounds have been afflicted with some kind of medical condition. The details have been redacted from official records, but ... well, call me a kook, I think the place might be haunted. That'll give me something to poke around about. Anyone join me if you fancy a little bit of a working vacation."
I plan on working as little as possible," Xio purrs, teasing gently. "You should try it sometime."
She ties her robe closed, and in an instant, her armor is replaced by a transparent white sundress, layered over a black bikini that seems to be held in place entirely by magic. The whole effect leaves very little to the imagination. "Lay by the pool with me and do nothing for a few hours."
Xio points at Stefani and bobs her head in profuse agreement. "Yeah, that. After the fish, I'm gonna be doing lots of that."
Stefani holds up her hand for a 'High-Five' with Xio before turning back to the Doctor.
"You think every place we go is haunted, Doc," she says. "But I'll be your wing-woman for a bit. Maybe I can point you in the right direction."
She gives Xio a wink.
"In any case, I think a shower is calling my name." She rinses out her cup and puts it in the rack. She then makes her way out of the galley to attend to the needs of neglected hygiene.
"Just our most recent encounter on Marshallamar II. I'll leave out the part where that ghost set off your jetpack and you ended up in the lagoon." Shabad breaks a slight smile and sips her coffee.
"Tactical retreat. It was a tactical retreat." Damonkayo's face remains (mostly) neutral as his sips his coffee.
"You think every place we go is haunted, Doc," she says. "But I'll be your wing-woman for a bit. Maybe I can point you in the right direction."
"Speaking of wing-women - has anyone seen Recorva this morning?"
Waking up on the floor of her room where she had made a comfortable nest of blankets and pillows the night before. Standing up and stretching, she extenders her wings out to their full span. Looking at the time, she quickly throws on a short-sleeved tshirt and a pair of sweatpants, making sure to carefully maneuver her wings through their slits in the back. Barefoot, she walks towards the galley to get breakfast and coffee. Listening to the conversation as she approaches, she sends a mental note to Rain to head to the Engineering room to begin readying everything for the upcoming Drift exit.
Poking her head in through the doorway, Recorva greets everyone with a nod and a simple, "Good morning, everyone." Working her way through the galley, running a hand through her tousled hair and straightening her rumpled clothing. Pouring out her own cup of the coffee, she begins preparing a tray of toast for everyone. As she does so, she turns her head to look over at Dr. Freebairn. "I heard you mentioning something about this potentially being a working vacation. Depending on what I can find to entertain myself there, I might just take you up on that. There is only so much time of unproductiveness that I can stand." As she says the last couple of words, her right hand unconsciously begins to move up and grip at her left shoulder. Noticing what she is doing, she suddenly brings her arm down and clenches the hand into a fist. Closing her eyes and letting out a breath, her hand releases as the toaster gives a faint Ding! Pulling out the tray, she holds it out towards the others. "Toast, anyone?"
"If you're pursuing your passion, it's not work. Anyway, I'm just at the start of finding more about the situation. But I'll keep you all in the loop if I find anything. Morning Recorva. I hope you slept well."
When toast is offered, Shabad accepts and munches contentedly.
Soon after you finish breakfast, the ship's alarm pings to indicate you have reached your destination. You slip out of the Drift and into real space to find yourselves among the asteroids of the Disspora. New Elysium should be just a short distance away.
However, it isn't long before you intercept a distress call. “Shuttle Goal Runner to New Elysium security! We’re under attack! Request immediate assistance!”
The response is quick. “Acknowledged, Goal Runner. We’re on our way. Hang in there.”
“They’ll never get here in time, Buzzblades!” an unknown person with a gravelly voice interjects. “Give it up, and we’ll go easy on ya.” The transmission ends with laughter and hooting from what must be other ships in the area.
The signal is close to your location.
Shabad gathers her gear and watches from the bridge. When she hears the exchange on the radio, she frowns and says, "Buzzblades. Where have I heard that before?" She gives her computer a few mental commands and a cache of sporting events data turns up the answer. "Anyone follow the sport called brutaris? Kind of a bloodsport, as I recall. Buzzblades is one of the teams, last years champion of Absalom Station. Maybe they are here as part of the entertainment. Are we close enough to offer assistance?"
Shabad sits at the science officer's seat and prepares to do a scan of the area, unplugging her data jack from her computer and inserting it into the console's jack.
"Good morning, everyone... toast, anyone?"
"Hmph! Speak of a devil..." Damonkayo accepts the toast with a single appreciative nod before heading to the bridge. Although he's hardly needed for the transition to Material space, it would feel wrong to not be at his post during active operations.
"Anyone follow the sport called brutaris? Kind of a bloodsport, as I recall. Buzzblades is one of the teams, last years champion of Absalom Station. Maybe they are here as part of the entertainment. Are we close enough to offer assistance?"
The vesk grunts in mild surprise. "Brutaris team? Needs help? I'll warm up our soft skills." Beneath the Spirit of Lady Lonilai, an over-sized twin turret descends from its protective housing. As the tremendous capacitors begin gathering charge, they glow with a soft ambience, revealing the words Persistence and Diplomacy etched along each focusing barrel.
You steer the Spirit of Lady Lonilai through the asteroid field, quickly coming to the Goal Runner's aid. Three other small ships harry the shuttle, hooting and taunting over the communications channel. Low on shields and firepower, it's clear the Goal Runner can't hold out until the New Elysium security ships arrive. It's up to you to save the Buzzblades!
The gravelly voice you heard earlier crackles on your comms. "Ah, somebody else wants to play!" One of the small ships breaks off its attack on the Goal Runner, looping around and heading towards you!
As Shabad focuses the sensors on the approaching fighter, a series of read-outs appears on her screen:
DIASPORAN RAIDER
Tiny fighter
Speed 10; Maneuverability good (turn 1); Drift 2
AC 21; TL 20
HP 40 each; DT —; CT 8
Shields medium 100 (currently 86; forward 21, port 22,starboard 22, aft 21)
Attack (Forward) high explosive missile launcher (4d8)
Power Core Arcus Heavy (130 PCU)
Complement 2
"Scans indicate the ship approaching is faster and more maneuverable than we are, but it has already taken damage and its armaments are going to have trouble getting through our shields. But there are three of them so assuming they are all similar, if they concentrate fire on one arc, they could do some damage."
"Sweet!" Stefani calls out. "We get to blow crap up!" she sheds her jacket and hops into one of the Gunner positions.
"You get the big prod this time, Damon, but I want to play with it next time. And not a single joke about penis envy."
She taps away at the controls to initialize the missile launchers and wiggles around in her seat to get comfortable.
"I love it when s&!@ goes boom!" she says with a laugh.
"You get the big prod this time, Damon, but I want to play with it next time. And not a single joke about penis envy."
"If it means I don't have to listen to you prattle on about cloacae, I'm all for it."
"I do not prattle." she barks back. "And as far as cloacae are concerned - can I just say, anal sex every single time? Ewww!"
Moving up into the piloting seat, Recorva quickly scans the tactical display in front of her. Activating the controls, she calls out to the rest of the crew "Hold on everyone! This might get a little bumpy." She then pushes the engines of the ship to maximum, pulling their ship off to one side. Knowing that their is an asteroid approaching along her chose path, she nimbly moves the ship just around it, before firing thrusters to angle the ship away from the next one. Turning back to the others, she says "There, we are out of that ones firing arc. Light 'em up!"
A second raider ship breaks away from the Goal Runner, swooping around to come at your ship head-on. The last one sticks to the shuttle as it tries to dodge, following it into the asteroid field.
"Fly, my pretties!" Stefani cackles as she looses a missile at one of the enemy ships.
Still clad in her poolside outfit, Xio hurries to the bridge, where she activates the comms and opens a channel to the first shuttle. "Hey a#~@+*#s! If I'm not relaxing on a pool chair in ten minutes, I'm holding you personally responsible."
Still clad in her poolside outfit, Xio hurries to the bridge, where she activates the comms and opens a channel to the first shuttle. "Hey a&*~*&#s! If I'm not relaxing on a pool chair in ten minutes, I'm holding you personally responsible."
"You tell 'em, Cap'n." As Damonkayo absent-mindedly supports Xio tirade, he focuses on bring the the main armament to bear, allocating the ship's computer to assist with targeting.
Damonkayo grunts in satisfaction as he watches the beam sunder the shields of the approaching ship before cutting a burning-hot arc through the starboard hull plates.
"East gate is down - repeat, east gate is down. If you're done talking about my ass, you might have some time to fly your little nuke into the gap I carved for you."
The ship heading towards you fires its particle beam, but Recorva steers your ship away from the blast.
The raider following the Goal Runner blasts its rear shields with its own beam, blowing them out completely! The shuttle fires back with a laser net, but the attack goes wide!
Damon scores a direct hit on the raider he targets, the linked beams nearly destroying it in one blast! Sparks fly from its weapons and sensors. Stefani sends a missile in to hopefully finish it off soon!
Your comm crackles again. "A lucky shot! You'll soon be feeling the burn from our beams, buckaroos!"
Another voice comes through, with the thick accent of a vesk. "This is Yazeloya of the Absalom Buzzblades! Thanks for the assist, comrades! Mind getting this skittermander off our tails?"
Shabad unplugs her datajack and crosses the bridge to the engineering station and begins to get the most out of the ship's engines, weapons, and shields. "Let me know if you want a scan, but for now I'm going to give you good people optimal results."
DC 20 (10 + 1.5*7=20.5, round down)
Shabad activates virtual systems view, giving her a virtual model of the ship and all systems floating in front of her. Her hands move to and fro as if conducting an orchestra, but she is working the systems faster than she could do touching buttons on the console.
"Recorva, I've boosted power in the engines by enriching the ion flow. Gunners, I've topped off the capacitors with some extra juice. And I've freed up some memory and processing power for any science officer tasks."
"Thanks, Doc. Now lets see if we can take some heat off of the Buzzblades tail!" Recorva then brings the The Spirit arcing around, keeping their distance from the Raiders while heading to assist the Goal Runner. As she does so, she dodges and jinks around randomly, attempting to preemptively avoid any incoming attacks.
The Goal Runner heads straight for you, the raider on its tail staying close in pursuit. The other two raiders move in on your port side, getting close to bring their weapons to bear!
"Drinks are on me if you finish them off, Damon!" Xio says over the comms, well aware of what motivates people around here.
Seeing that the damaged raider ship is within range of the nuclear missile (and within potential range of a second), Damonkayo makes a snap decision and targets the raider ship on the tail of the Goal Runner, trying to take the heat off of their beleaguered ally.
"Alright, missile-monger, get your bird turned around! I saved a nice, juicy target for you - send 'em to nuclear hell!"
The previous missile arcs around ...
... and slams into the closing ship.
"Leaving that one for me, Damon?" Stefani shouts out with bravado as she lines up the damage shipped for a targeting lock.