Game thread here.
The minor politician safely ensconced in the council meeting, Harukai has the opportunity for a rare afternoon off, as the boisterous discussion was likely to last for many hours yet, and they had retreated to an executive session where even attendants such as he were not allowed. A quick trip to the refresher on the way out of the governmental building allows the trim but muscular bodyguard to transition seamlessly from his formal wear to his hot weather outfit, a much more reasonable choice in this hostile climate.
Still, Harukai was used to heat, used to cold, used to deprivation of many kinds, and it has made him tough. Having spent his credits from the last 3 jobs to purchase the reconfigurable clothing, Harukai considered it a worthwhile investment as he stepped out into the blast furnace that was his home world of Athas. Wishing he could go to one of the many nearby eateries that caters to the diplomatic clientele, Harukai's empty pockets guide him instead to the local well, where he drinks the available warm water and considers what to do until he gets paid and can afford to eat another meal.
Chiaiese looked out at the blasted red landscape from the relatively cool observation deck of the Diplomatic wing of Athas' Intersolar Federation building. Dust was inescapable, as the desert penetrated every attempt by the Athasans to keep it out. Looking down at the film of red underfoot, she wondered if the native population had simply stopped trying, to the extent that they no longer concerned themselves with perception.
The climate controls inside the Diplomatic wing, which one might reasonably assume would provide sufficient atmospheric blends as well as humidity, failed completely to nourish her skin, and the Damaya was hitting her supply of moisturizer harder than she expected. She felt the plant's grit, both literally and figuratively, and it made her wonder how her mother had navigated so many similarly frustrating environments in her exemplary career. But her mother only needed to present her best face and act in the primary interest of the Lady. Chiaiese' role was more... nuanced.
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Anton meekly sporked up the yellow-flavored soykrill he got from the standing AutoMEALZ! kiosk around the corner. He missed his favorite flavor, gwrplo, but it was more expensive, and he pinched credits by habit.
His gig fixing comps at the Sweet Doomed Angel--a mixture of dance club and workshop, where the richer patrons could drink and enjoy their time until their unit was repaired--wasn't so bad. It was better than scrounging on the street, and gave him access to as many parts as Viv could handle.
"Sure you don't want some?" Anton asked the serenely hovering drone as he waved a bite of the almost-flavorless meal at her.
*boop* she stated curtly, saying what she thought of the low-cost meal.
"Suit yourself. More for me. We should get back soon. Try to stay out of the way and kill as few patrons as possible, alright?"
*beep boop boop bop* she replied, making her feelings eminently clear...to anyone who spoke Binary.
That’s it, right there… Keying the wristcomp quickly, Erlich bypassed the protocols, tensing as he breached one, then another… no… four firewalls now without executing their countermeasures. Almost there. Got it a corner of his mouth upturned as he exhaled slowly, downloading the data and implanting a custom no-trace auto-execute he toyed with in his off time before backing out of the Corp’s testing program and unjacking from the terminal.
”Very nice, Mr. Carnibarr. This makes the final pass, does it not?” The proctor looked over her datapad, noting details and keying a mark, “Physical, Psychological, Fieldcraft, Pilot Training, and now, ‘The Final Hack,’”
Erlich startled a bit at the last, nervously eyeing the exam proctor. ”Yes, I know. We all do. Vulgar idiom you recruits use, but accurate. You’ve made excellent progress the last two years, not our best, but definite potential. I’ve forwarded your marks to Corps Operations. They will assign you. It’s up to them, and you, now. Athas needs operatives like you to even the playing field for us in this galaxy.
Erlich arose, again startled. It as the first time he was called anything but “recruit.” He tensed and reciting by rote, ”Yes Ma’am, I will do my best, make the Corps and Athas proud.” Dismissed, he exited the testing chamber, taking his longcoat and adjusting his belt for comfort. Lessee, Operations, sub-basement 2, as if on cue, his wrist comp chimed a notice to report within the hour. Wonder what they have for me…
Stel Ur Draxa She really is a squat and ungainly thing. Still, one of the Diplomatic Corps most reliable vessels. This would be it. First time out of atmosphere. First time off planet. A distant sandstorm still raged far to the east of Ur Draxa, slowly heading south, not towards the city. Another two months the first of the season will come raging through here. Not going to miss those.
He glanced about on the launch deck absently as workers scurried at the tasks prepping the vessel. Still early. Two more hours. The entourage hasn’t even reached the ‘drome. Initial preflight in an hour, plenty of time to settle in before that. squinting at the storm one last time, Erlich shuddered to shake his dusty flightsuit, shouldered his bag and left the hatchway, out into the heat and briskly boarding his new home for the next two cycles.
The ship looks sound. It was built using a crysteel vat (crystaline steel) and is air tight and ready to go. The nozzles on the back were hardly there. It looks like the ship still uses reaction mass to get around. Something new was built perhaps?
Yes, I'm waiting for all players to make a first post.
Okay, I think this is everyone.
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'Head down, eyes down'
Merrik kept repeating himself as the large and wealthy dragon moved about the stock of gladiators. He continues to walk past Merrik, who was the only human in the lot. On his second pass, it looks back at Merrik's Master, 'laughs' "I know you must be messing with me to include this human. You know they are not even worth the air they breath."
Merrik's Master replies, "Sometimes, life has a weird sense of humor and has given this one...certain abilities outside of the norm. He is not one to ignore."
The Lord laughs in the Master's face, flames licking outside his jowls, "I then challenge this notion." He point's at Master, "And you will not deny me. Bremedy! Turn this slug to dust."
A youngling red steps forward into the ring, a wide open crevasse with jagged rocks and deep pits forming a non-welcoming environment for creatures smaller than the dragons that live in the area. Merrik strides out and draws his hammer and shield then leaps with surprising agility onto a rock point.
With a roar and a gout of flame from the Lord, the match begins. Using the same agility, Merrik leaps up onto the young red before it could react. After a slam from his hammer, a ripple of energy surged through his shield. With a quick movement, the shield slid its way through the dragon's neck and it's head fell into the chasm, disappearing from sight. Before the body fell, Merrik makes a mighty leap from the and dropped heroically onto the ringside. Returning his equipment to it's restful state, he stand in his standard slave pose.
Utter shock is the only word that could be use to describe the scene of dragons. The Master begins laughing, "Now that you have forced my hand, he is no longer on the market. If you wish to press that issue, I would be happy to make this flesh bag behead another of your assets..."
The lord growls as his eyes light up but quickly turns, motioning for his gladiators, in formation, to leave. Master continues to laugh as he instructs his fighters to leave, commanding Merrik to approach him, "It is good to see that my actions are not wasted and now it's time for the fruit of my labors bare some return. I have something for you, my boy. Something that will make me well known throughout Bahamut."
That works, splendid!
Alright, think that's everyone.
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Yeah. This is an electric universe game. So, to get started, all of you are in a space port located in Tyr. The spaceport looks like Mos Eisley from Star Wars. People bustling about, some in space suits. There are a myrad of races here. Starting from the familiar to the fanciful. Except there are no jawas and there are definitely no storm troopers. You are hoping to get started. Fortunately, all of you have a small sized fortune where with you could buy your own ship.
On Athas, life is brutal. Water is worth it's weight in gold, and the land of Tyr had been liberated in the past.
Just one big ship together.
Erlich starts the discussion, "Most commonly available craft in our price range do not have the engines, shields and armaments we would desire, but do have the basics which we need. It is asking too much with the funds available, but as soon as we can afford it, it is vital to add or convert a portion to a proper Medbay. If we are venturing out, we need a well stocked recovery unit - unexpected dangers, you know."
"I am not that well-versed in technology, although I think I could learn any weapons system quickly enough to be a fair shot," says Harukai (volunteering to be the gunner). "Do we want a larger, basic model that has lots of room to upgrade, or a smaller, more capable model that will serve the immediate needs better?" he asks.
There is a kiosk that shows the various types of models. Including the shuttle and explorer types.
Chiaiese reviews the datapad from the observation platform. She types in the encrypted passcode and reviews the next set of orders from the Camerarius. Damn. Well, no one claimed this would be easy, or clean. With customary attention to detail, she crafts her new personae, exchanging the diplomatic visage for something more - versatile.
An hour later she arrives at the spaceport in Tyr and finds a small group already assembled there. She quickly determines the first order of business is to acquire a ship, and notes with dismay at the paltry resource pool from which to work. But her father's wisdom in such matters is a great asset, and with a few taps at the inventory, she identifies a few good options.
A Light Freighter catches her eye, and she turns to the group.
Chiaiese combs one hand through her hair and displays a well-practiced smile. "We have all arrived at this task together, I presume. My name is Chiaiese. So good to make your acquaintance. Now then, we have a couple options for a ship, and they are modest, but this one may do to get us started."
"A pleasure to meet you, Chiaiese. I am called Harukai," says the swarthy man in loose-fitting hot weather gear. "I finally saved up enough to get off planet--I hope the ship itself isn't a death trap," he thinks, scanning over the options himself.
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@Eltonj, are you planning to go more of a "gritty" approach to starships where you have to capture/scavenge starship systems and/or pay for upgrades, or more the automatic "ship-advances-with-tier" standard Starfinder approach?
I haven't decided yet. I usually run starfinder without space battles. But since you expect space battles . . .
Harukai's eye is drawn to one of the larger ships, an Explorer-Class starship named the "Sky Fire". He brings up the details on it and asks the group, "What about this one? It is in our price range, and it seems a sturdy ship."
Interested as well, Erlich weighs in, "I am somewhat familiar with the class. Briefed and seen displays, never flown, but eminently a fine choice. Let's give it a once over."
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Merrik shuffles with his eyes low. shield promptly in front of him. At the naming of 'Sky Fire' he actually looks up, to get fully sight of the ship. He breaks his composure a bit to be in awe of the prospect of flying in a ship without being chained to the hull.
Once Erlich starts speaking though, he resumes his usual disposition and quietly asks, "Shall I board and prepare your stations, masters?"
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"Heh, just Anton is fine," Anton interjects self-consciously at Merrik.
"Wow! I've never flown on something this nice! Do we get the whole ship, or does it need some work done?
Look at that, Viv! You ever seen a ship so nice 'afore?"
His faithful hover-drone hovers silently behind him, scanning the ship and recording her own data.
*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep* *boop* *boop* *beep* she states, rendering her judgement on how Martel-class WSP-7C Explorers stack up against Overlord-class dreadnoughts...but it's sort of a mute point.
Looking up with a chagrined expression, Harukai looks at Merrik and says, "Masters? I am no one's master. We go as equals or not at all."
Sighing, Harukai says, "This could be a long trip."
In a brighter tone, he continues, "How long will it take for us to complete the purchase and leave this place?" Assessing his comrades, he adds, "And does anyone have a lead on work for a starship and her crew, or perhaps an idea of where to go to find such work?"
Oblivious to the rhetoric, Erlich absentmindedly mutters "I look forward to long trip. Longer the better in fact."
Finally taking note of the droid what must be some ex-slave, Elrich chuckles to himself, and addresses Merrik, "Um, no. None of us have purchased you." Erich offers his arm in unguarded friendship, "Name is Erlich. Looking to get off planet and discover what impossible and new things are out there. Better than what corporations or government has for us down here."
Erlich will draw him in close, whispering seriously, "You may feel a bit uncomfortable and not knowing exactly what to do with yourself, we'll help until you get your bearings and realize you are you own being now - making your own destiny."
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Merrik glances up and actually catches the gaze of Erlich. Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Merrik perks up and clasps his forarm, offering a nod of understanding.
Merrik sweeps his gaze across the rest of the group as if for the first time and, again for the first time, not feel the sense of being a slave.
"I hear your words, friend Erlich. I was supposed to meet my new master here and I never mistake my orders. Seems that we may have a benefactor then, as it seems we have just been given this ship. Does anyone know who that might be? Only that I do not want to mistake my presence here."
Perception checks:
Being a bodyguard for hire himself, Harukai notices the hobgoblins immediately. He says to the others, ”Take a look...discretely...over there.” Harukai nods slightly in the direction of the newcomers, adding, ”Those three are from Eberron, and appear to have House Deneith sponsorship. They’ve come a long way chasing their quarry, I would guess.”
Chiaiese acknowledges that hobgoblins exist on this planet, and they are not a particularly attractive race. But they also present no immediate threat. She continues combing through the particulars of the Sky Fire while continuing to observe the surrounding scene passively.
Chiaiese acknowledges that hobgoblins exist on this planet, and they are not a particularly attractive race. But they also present no immediate threat. She continues combing through the particulars of the Sky Fire while continuing to observe the surrounding scene passively.
Culture, House Deneith: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
Satisfied with the particulars of the ship they just purchased, Chiaiese returns her attention to the hobgoblins. She approaches them, the sharp points of her heeled boots clicking on the dock.
"You three are a long way from home," she says ignoring her own circumstance in favor of the forward momentum of dialog. "What are you doing here?"
"None of your business, girl," huffs one of them.