[SF] Fly Free or Die AP - GM Ewok

Game Master EwokBanshee

There's no map, this is going to be more of a theater of the mind situation. This is still primarily skill challenge, unless you have some profound movement capabilities to catch up with those snipers before they disappear.

Melissa begins mentally coding the fix that Guess? identified in her head, and is confident they pair of them can convince the pyrotechnic team of the benefits of the plan. You look down the track, seeing the bank turn a few hundred feet away. The area around the bank turn is deserted, as if the workers have been ordered to avoid it. You can easily see why: the compacted scrap, which has been crushed into a flat surface elsewhere along the track, pulses and wobbles here as if some giant creature from beneath is trying to burst through. You can't quite tell what the problem is from this distance. What you can tell is that the distance between here and there is about 250 feet of empty space in clear view of those snipers.

From your position in cover, you peek to see that the snipers are still there, at least 500 feet away. Behind you is the safety of Ratrod's garage, where the track employees are hastily sprinting. Thanks to the hairpin turn, there's only about 100 feet of empty space between you and cover. Or, if you're in the flying mood perhaps you could make it out of the track, over the busy street, and onto the building before the mysterious snipers could escape.

Alright, you've beaten this skill challenge and there's one remaining. You have a few different avenues of dealing with this whole sniper situation as well.

Akh running with a hurry and thruster jets would be

60 foot move C4= 240 feet running
60 foot move action from hurry= 300 feet round 1
240 feet round 2.

Or we can just paint him yellow and he can pretend to be a speed bump.

a dragonkin with thruster heels and a haste circuit is flying from the spike on absolom station to Jatambe park. Meanwhile a squox on a sugar bender is running....

"Doesn't seem smart to keep working on this while we're being shot at. I'll go take a look at what they're doing, maybe distract them a bit, while you see what's causing all that waving about over there." Akh activates his thruster heels and flies at full speed toward the source of the shots, ending his movement behind some kind of cover - hopefully something more sturdy than a street sign.

With thruster heels and taking the run action, Akh can go 240 ft in the first round. Ideally he can stop somewhere out of line of sight of the snipers at the end of round 1.

I'll happily take a hurry for another 60 ft

Del lets out a little shriek of surprise as the shot strikes Jaraduk.

Instinctively, she waves her arms and focuses, pulling in a bit of sugar and food dye and gelatin from across other realities and mixing them around her in a burst of cooking magic. Now surrounded in a translucent spherical barrier of gummy candy, Del hurries down the track toward the bank. People often tried to kill her, and she wasn't about to endanger Ratrod or his employees if she was the snipers next target...

Witchwarping! Del is surrounded by a translucent 10-ft radius sphere of protection that moves with her. It provides soft cover and concealment to Del and anyone else inside it with her. Atmosphere, gravity, and temperature are also tolerable for any creature inside. Then she moves 30 feet toward the bank.

Question: Is the track between here and the bank a straight shot or curved? She has an instant vehicle she can pull out, but it's only faster than running if the track is straight so she can take the race action. Otherwise she's hoofing it. (If the track ahead IS straight, she'll activate her instant vehicle instead of moving, causing a rickety looking exploration buggy to appear on the track. No, it doesn't look like it could survive a hit from a sniper rifle...

It's wide enough and straight enough that it is straight for your purposes!

The group watches as Akh sets off like a rocket. As he ends his parabolic arc and lands in cover, the rest of the group shares Guess?'s scope. They see both assassins start up their own jetpacks and drop off the other side of the building's roof. Unfortunately, I imagine you won't be able to catch up and/or find them with the 300 feet between you. (But I'm open to creative solutions!)

Probably good enough that Akh's rush spooks them away. Should give a few rounds to make the adjustments we need to for Ratrod.

Akh peeks from out of cover, then flies to the next nearest piece of cover he can find at more conventional speeds, looking for any sign the snipers are just taking new angles.

Perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (2) + 13 = 15

Guess?, about to take a shot at the snipers, observes Akh rocketing quickly towards the assassins. "Oh my gob. That's impressive!

"I guess they're gone for good at this point."

Guess? stands up and stows his rifle, not having taken a single shot.

Akh doesn't see the snipers relocating, but he doesn't see much to be honest. The group moves to the final task, at the banked turn that continues to pulse and shift. You guess that it isn't supposed to be that way for the race...

engineering check: 1d20 + 17 + 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 17 + (4) + 1 = 33

"I'm gonna try to fluffy ooze my way through that crap Like.. well a ysoki in a spare parts pile. and turn if off. If the junks too far packed in, Guess figure out whats down hill from here that isn't going to irradiate anyone and jaraduk move... lets say that pannel."

escape artist: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (5) + 16 = 21 + compression

perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (18) + 15 = 33 + scent?

Sniff... sniffs... ""That grenade smells like money..Jaraduk present for you... "" Duct tape the pin in before throwing it out with the rest of the trash she's trying to toss out of the way.

engineering: 1d20 + 17 + 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 17 + (2) + 1 = 34

"I think this is the LEAST likely part of the track to explode.... "

Guess? attempts to disable the grenade pointed out by Melissa:
Engineering: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (6) + 19 = 25

In case, Melissa's attempt to direct the fluids to a safe site fails, Guess? begins looking for an alternate venting location.

Physical Science: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

Too bad Guess? couldn't ride on Akh to chase after those snipers. That might have been an amusing scene!

If we don't have a "someone rides Akh in a cavalry charge" before the end of this campaign, we've done something wrong :D

Akh stays on lookout, content to let the others handle the track repairs and improvements.

Grenade? That looks more like a trap. Need some help there?

Engineering, aid: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (4) + 13 = 17

Examining then buckling and shifting track, Del pokes around and mutters to herself. "What if we... No, that won't work.... Oh! What about... No, that won't work either... We could... Hmmm..."

As she hums and haws and does absolutely nothing useful, the others get to work. Eventually, realizing he's not helping she decides to keep watch with Akh. Surely she'd be good at that!

(She was not.)

Melissa, with the help of Guess? and Jaraduk, disables the grenade trap. With deft fingers, they are able to return the casing and salvage a Frag Grenade, Mk 4. You notice that the grenade is from the EJ Corp BOOM! WOW! product line.

Melissa dives into the cracks between the concrete. Ok, so you can squeeze down to 7 inches, right? She's able to wriggle through the larger of the split pieces but soon reaches some smaller divisions. Sniffing around in the dark claustrophobic tunnel, she shifts a rock and is rewarded with a spray of chemicals! The pressurized danger spurts into the tunnel, threatening to overwhelm Melissa.

Acid/Bludg Damage: 10d12 ⇒ (2, 10, 11, 10, 12, 11, 1, 7, 5, 7) = 76 Pass a DC 18 Reflex save for half damage. On failure, you are also sickened for 1d4 hours.

Substituting the ability to Burrow with her naturally flexible form should get Melissa to the location, but she's going to need some external assistance to find the outlet. Essentially you'll need a successful Medium Escape Artist check by Melissa and a successful Medium Physical Science check by an outside person (Guess?). Once located, Melissa will need to beat a Hard Engineering or Piloting check to route the chemicals out. The alternative is the external route, which is a Hard Physical Science followed by a Hard Athletics. All of these can be attempted many times, but there are punishments for failed checks.

Meanwhile, Akh and Del stand back, very helpfully staying out of the way.

As a backup to that Hard Athletics check, Akh can come back and just disintegrate the portion of the structure that needs to be wrenched apart, thanks to his new entropic glove. Not sure if that would deal too much damage to the overall track though.

Looking at the grenade, Guess? remarks excitedly, "Hey, I remember that grenade product line! They even had an ad with a catchy tune. Remember? Well, how could you forget... it was on mandatory play time for all EJ cargo haulers 23 hours a day those couple of months!"

Talking to Melissa on comms while she's crawling around, "By the way, you DID turn on the suit's environmental protections before you took a chemical spray to the face.... Right? Silly engineer! kekeke"

Physical Science: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

Guess? does his best to locate an appropriate weak spot where Melissa can emerge out of the track's toxic chemical sewage-like system. And broadcasts the GPS location to Melissa's HUD.

reflex save: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

Melissa has a filtered rebreather for 5 acid resistance... ok she has it for the +2 poison save but right now its 5 acid resistance. = 33 damage

Medium escape artist check escape artist: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (15) + 16 = 31

Hard Engineering check engineering: 1d20 + 17 + 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 17 + (5) + 1 = 31

Fluffy little ooze math: at 7.5 inches she's just moving at half speed, below that she needs the escape artist check. If her head fits, she sits.

Static "Guess I think I'm here i need you to use the " static "principle to let me know when I'm on the " static static "side of the pool and " static "bagels "

Oh the previous physical science roll was for a chemical pool outlet, not ysoki exit route.

Guess? radios back to Melissa, "Roger that. Using tried and true, top-of-the-line goblinoid engineering principles to let you know when you're on the soft, cuddly side of the pool and yoda bagels!"

Thanks to her dexterity and equipment, Melissa is able to allow most of the chemical wash to slip past her in the tight crevice. She looks past the burst and finds the pocket of chemicals! The rocks around the pressurized bubble shift from the forces within. Guess? identifies the best outlet for the chemicals, and Melissa utilizes her pump to reroute the flow! Green smoking acids begin to seep from the bulging ground and the rest of the crew back away quickly. A few minutes later the ground begins to settle back into place in the banked turn of the racetrack. Just afterwards, Melissa pops back out!

Status
Melissa SP 22/55 HP 57/57 RP 10/10
Akh SP 99/99 HP 67/67 RP 8/8
Guess? SP 54/54 HP 47/47 RP 10/10
Del SP: 45/45, HP: 49/49, RP: 5/5
Jaraduk SP 53/72, HP 69/69, RP 10/10

You return the the track owner. Ratrod throws his hands into the air in celebration. "Ask and ye shall receive! I asked Grandmother Rat for some competent help, and so she sends some very skilled vagrants in need." The ysoki digs around in a trunk behind him, pulling out a ratfolk belt "for your help fixing the track. And since you made that hairpin curve so much cooler..." He whips out a horrifying and impressive rifle that seems to be more tanks and tubes than weapon. "Made this for myself out of one of our own flamethrower nozzles. Consider it an extra token of my gratitude." He hands over the hellhound-class blaze rifle with pride. "But of course, the real treasure is the Rust Bug." Ratrod keeps the Rust Bug in a nearby vault, but he warns that he hasn’t checked on it in years, and he doesn’t know its current condition. He gives you the security code to open the vault. “Once you get that thing flyin’,” he says, “Me and the gang will work our magic on it. You’ll see!”

Ok! Where now? You have the Click Clack Club, which Dizzy suggested might be able to offer you some help. You also have this Vault, where your new starship is located. You also have these mysterious assassins as well as the crew of the Wintermourn wandering around the station.

Maybe we get that help first, and then go find the Wintermourn crew for a shakedown!

Still traveling, so brief post here.

Guess? would like to do a bit of info gathering on those EJ assassins and agrees to head to the Click Clack club next.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (12) + 21 = 33

Akh returns to the others "Well, that was easy. Too easy maybe. The snipers gave up quite quickly."

"We should probably go and check the Vault and this ship first and find out what we're dealing with. Maybe it's the Rust Bug because it's full of rust monsters and we need a professional exterminator if we're to fly it."

Guess? can confirm Akh's fears. The Evgeniya-Jaimisson Corporation does indeed employ a small army of corporate spies. Or, as they're called in the employee register, "External Monitoring and Closure Experts". It might be a bit of a jump just from a trapped grenade that anyone could buy at your local (albeit high end) supermarket... but these snipers could be EJ Corp spies. That could explain their hit and run, strike from afar, observance strategy.

Two votes for Click Clack Club, and one for the Vault! I'll give it a little bit longer then move us forward.

"I really think we should see the Rust Bug. If it needs repairs, we need to find out what it needs as soon as possible..."

you return the the track owner. Ratrod throws his hands into the air in celebration. "Ask and ye shall receive! I asked Grandmother Rat for some competent help, and so she sends some very skilled vagrants in need."

Melissa gives a SQUEEEEK at getting a ratfolk belt from ratrod himself! She can already do that on her own but it would be handy for the two tall noodles in the party. He'll have to be able to move faster than a jet pack powered rat to avoid a thank you hug. (and a slight sliming from that acid built up under the track. he really needs SOME environmental containment...)

"I think it would be faster **gargle** to go to the club than to convince captain guess? **gargle**not to go to the club and get a drink after the morning we've had." Melissa says while giving herself and her new armor a thorough hosing off

Three for the club and two for the vault? Sounds like the club first.

Akh concedes "People do say the CCC has some interesting food for non-standard digestive systems. Maybe its time for a snack, and then we check the vault."

After giving Ratrod a mild chemical burn and accepting your loot, you head to the Click-Clack Club. Graffiti art covers the outer walls of this factory-like structure with a pyramid of cartoonish pictures and bubble letters ascending toward a glowing green sign that reads Click-Clack Club in iridescent letters. A torrent of flashing lights and mechanical sounds emanates from the glass doors, and dozens of conflicting vidscreens and holograms dance along the interior walls. The air outside carries a pungent mix of gin and motor oil. The bouncer, a heavily augmented half-orc with a scrawled name tag, Dramok stops you. "ID's." Seeing you hesitation, the half-orc flexes and grunts. "Nobody gets in without being checked. House rule." Not having prepared any forgeries, you hope that Dizzy's advice was good and hand over your authentic identification information. Dramok raises a tattooed eyebrow when looking these over. "Yeah, I thought I recognizes you from one of the lists. Luck for you, we don't care about that one. Have a good time, Burnies." He shoves open the door and turns to the next group. "Oie, I told you. No optical attack lasers allowed. Your disguise ain't fooling me, Crash."

Music assaults your senses as you enter the darkened interior of the CCC. The club interior teems with a crowd of competitive anacites, fresh off a successful transport and eager to play some of C3’s famous VR games before returning to their regular jobs on Aballon. There are other Station regulars at various spots, but the anacites just dominate the space. The club has such a large overflow that even the managers are taking on shifts; a rhyphorian works the bar, and a dragonkin monitors the VR parlor, where a massive UV overhead light replicates sunlight for all the anacites. Going off Dizzy's tip, you approach Tsalu the dragonkin. The owner-operator looks harried, with many customers and staff vying for his attention at once. “Yes,” he says, “Dizzy told me about you. I’m not sure I can help. As you can see,” he says, gesturing to the swarm of anacites crowding the club, “we’ve got a situation here and I’m short-handed.”

1d20 ⇒ 8

Alright! If you want help from the Club owners, you're going to need to get their attention. Preferably, in a positive way. Just straight Diplomacy isn't going to work without another more attention grabbing action. There's a few different methods you can try here. Some are impressive and will win the owner over on their own, others would just grab Tsalu's attention long enough for a Diplomacy check. Let's see what you come up with!

Three for the club and two for the vault? Sounds like the club first.

Akh concedes "People do say the CCC has some interesting food for non-standard digestive systems. Maybe its time for a snack, and then we check the vault."

Looking over the bar, you see a massive menu. One small corner of it is titled Pact Worlds Fare. The rest appears to be created specifically for more exotic diets - the bulk of which would be especially delectable to an android, SRO, anacite, or other mechanical lifeform.

Akh beelines the counter in the CCC where you order the more exotic culinary specialties. He's familiar enough with the place to know exactly what he likes - or at least, what he liked to get back when he still worked alongside Sinjin. Now, it leaves him feeling a little strange. Even after all this time, the Sinjin arrayed against the party and the Sinjin in his memories seem like entirely different people.

While he's distracted by these thoughts, be picks up a liquid nitrogen and magnetized iron float with arsenic flavor crystals and extra chocolate syrup. He absentmindedly licks the treat as he floats back over to the group.

"What's wrong with the situation here Tsalu? They're enjoying themselves."

Melissa will try Providing some entertainment/Distraction to the crowd online trying to get them to chill out a bit with a bit of music. Probably something with a lot of mathematical progression given the crowd.
She sets up on Akhs tail while he's munching on SiO2 tail soup
1d20 + 14 ⇒ (7) + 14 = 21

"Until this crowd thins out a bit, there's no way we're gunna get any of Tsalu's attention"

Seeing that the vast majority of the crowd is trying to get in on the VR games, Guess? decides to make short work of the anacites by defeating them at the games quickly. This will allow the club to collect fees, turnover players fast, and clear out some of the patrons, reducing the overcrowding.

Guess? draws attention to himself, "HELLOOOOOOO VR ENTHUSIASTS!!! You've been blessed tonight! Why? Because you're in the presence of VR greatness! Namely... ME! I will take on all challengers and I will DEFEAT you! You think you're good? HA! You're delusional! None y'all stand a chance against Beaumont!

"COME! Prove me wrong! I DARE YOU!!"

Profession (vidgamer): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
Profession (vidgamer), Desna luck reroll: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

Del looks at Akh's culinary choices with wide eyes and stammers for a bit. "Wow, that sure is... Doesn't look very... I mean... It looks like you'll enjoy it..."

Del cranes her neck, trying to sneak a peek into the kitchen. "Are you in need of a hand? I'm a trained chef, you know. In fact, I ran a successful bakery for a time..."

Del's going to try to lend a hand in the kitchen or, barring that, with waiting tables or serving drinks.
Profession Chef: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (6) + 20 = 26
Alternate Outcome Reroll: Profession Chef: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (19) + 20 = 39

Tsalu doesn't recognize Akh, his old regular from years past, through the disguise. He does laugh with a sour humor. "What's wrong? Too much of a good thing! These crowds are too much! Paying customers can't enjoy the VR because there's people in their space, trying to get in on the action. And look at all those folks trying to get a drink and unable to get through the mess!" He shakes his head. "Somehow we may actually make less money tonight, with double our normal customers..."

While the anacites are not impressed by Melissa's DJ skills, muttering comments about how the harmonies and song blends are "Elementary." But Guess? and Del are able to clean up both of the primary areas of the club. Guess? is able to burn through the line of waiting VR enthusiasts, making sure each has a chance to pay, play, and get crushed. They all head to the bar, where Del has whipped up a whole array of motor oil based heuer d'oeuvres. The anacites and other customers pick up the small plates and spread throughout the establishment instead of congregating around the bar.

Able to take a breath, Tsalu's shoulders relax for the first time this evening. "Alright, so y'all got the Burn, huh? Dizzy mentioned something about that. I suppose you want to get off Station, or have somewhere to lay low while you get out from under this thing. Might be we can help there..." The dragonkin eyes his buddy still swamped at the bar. "Tell you what. If you can help us manage the bar through this busy night, my partner and I will see what we can do. In the meantime, mind making yourself useful?” It seems the owners expect your group to help out around the club. You take a look around and see some opportunities:

-Athletics to unload deliveries at the club’s rear and carry supplies to and from the bar.
-Engineering to keep the club’s overused VR machines and other facilities in working order.
-Diplomacy to head off a conflict among some belligerent and intoxicated SROs.
-Intimidate to help Dramok with security at the front door when an anacite predator drone with a fake ID tries to enter.
-Perception to guide an inebriated anacite ambassador named Syntax to a safe place where they can sober up before they make a mess.
-Any Profession skill relevant to running a bar, VR parlor, or gambling den.

Everyone please give me a skill check for one of these situations! I'll give you a free +2 Aid bonus if you want to include a good roleplay/description/interaction along with it.

I could... set off a riot grenade and clear the whole place. That would get their attention. No? Bad idea?

----

Oh, sure. Or we could just tend bar. Yeah fine.

Athletics: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (11) + 19 = 30 So what you're saying is that you've got a truckload of beernuts in back, and these anacites need them pronto? K.

Melissa grumbles at the harsh (if accurate) criticism and is absolutely not pretending its the anacites internal guts as she kicks open the VR machine and start biting wires

engineering: 1d20 + 17 + 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 17 + (6) + 1 = 31

Intimidate: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (3) + 13 = 16

Akh floats along as the others tackle the crowd of anacites inside, but when Tsalu asks for some help keeping troublesome guests out, Akh says "Oh, that I can do." before heading for the front door. He floats this way and that while outside, patrolling the entrance, while occasionally espousing the virtues of well seasoned noodles to visitors and passersby. However when an anacite predator drone with a forged ID comes by and tries to enter, he hits the anacite with "Don't make me turn you into noodles!" Its not exactly his most intimidating line.

Guess? grabs some paper and a pencil, then draws a series of machines with front panels missing, exposing the machines' bare wiring.

Approaching the drunk, belligerent SROs, Guess? holds up the NSFW (or NSF-SRO-W) drawings, getting their attention and attracting some low brow guffaws.

"Let's make love, not war, amirite?!? C'mon lemme help y'all make new friends!"

Guess?, using his social skills, pairs up the SRO's, matchmaker style, into couples. The goal being to get them interested in talking, flirting with their new friend, rather than proceed down the angry group mob path towards starting a fight.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (19) + 21 = 40

Welllll I definitely meant to get a few posts in, but this weekend just flew by. Sorry, y'all!

The bar is abuzz with activity as your crew goes to work. You haven't worked this hard since you were at EJ! (Though this has to be the safest job you've every had...) Akh chases an unfazed predator into the club, while Jaraduk (literally) flexes his muscles behind the bar. Melissa gets a VR machine working just as the line of anacites were about to disperse, and Guess? successfully distracts some SROs with some drawings that would not be allowed in Popular Mechanics. As you all go about your business, a complexity arises... That complexity takes the form of two anacite laborers.

Speaking with a rhotic accent, one with red accents slaps his partner in the chest. "Haul, look he-uh. These holy rollahs think that their fancy disguises would fool a smart pay-uh of loonies like ahs." The other anacite, flexing a new black modification around his midriff, chuckles. "Aye, Lift, you're right! This bunch looks like the fresh gawwwwwbage that took out Monit-ah 77B last year. Set 'im right under watah, they did!" They continue to harass and badger you as you attempt to work. Their continued insults, veiled threats, are quite distracting but don't throw you (much) from your tasks. However, their references to this 'Monitor 77B' brings you back to an early challenge to your group. Way back on Horse Eye Orbital Plate, Eline Reisora was accompanied by an invisible anacite bodyguard that Melissa was unable to save after a battle while "liberating" the Last Chance. Two and a half years ago!! When confronted, the anacites admit they want to avenge their fallen friend. "We challenge you-ze to a fight! In the Pot!" They point their long tool-arms in unison towards a sign. You follow the sign's direction, eyeing a 30-foot- deep octagonal combat pit in the club occasionally used for boxing matches or drone fights, outfitted with VR environs and a forcefield enclosure.

"Oh crap... he didn't make it? " Melissa looks slightly surprised and more than a little crestfallen. She was pretty sure Strek could have stopped the other hydraulic line easily and wonders what he was doing...

(flash back to Melissa's tail and rump sticking out of the Annacites chest calling for a spanner while hydraulics spray everywhere and Strek is drinking the executive slurm from the bar)

sense motive: 1d20 + 14 + 1d6 ⇒ (7) + 14 + (1) = 22

Melissa isn't going to stop working, but she will call back for del for a trio of drinks. "What is.. what was his favorite? So.. three things. One is sure, we can settle this with a good old fashioned Kneipenschlägerei* in the ring there. Two is that I'm really sorry he didn't make it. I tried reconnecting the hydraulic lines individually back to company specs... I SHOULD have just ran them all together until I had time to do it right. Three... and this is going to be important to you if you want to proceed, I've gotten a LOT better at that. And once I had the cash I made sure to keep a stock of things to make sure it didn't happen again. Four, the guy was enslaving androids with control collars, so I'm only going to get SLIGHTLY teary eyed that I couldn't save him."

*german/dwarven for bar brawl

Oh sure, the ONE robot we don't make sure to save...

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (7) + 16 = 23

Guess?'s goblin greed senses tingle as he exclaims telepathically, "There's money to be made!!"

Guess? immediately approaches the dragonkin owner Tsalu and begins to parley, "Grudge match! Lots of betting and tons of money to be made for the club! If we agree to the match, we want 50% of the club's earnings on the match.

"So any money you make is pure profit. 50% of pure profit is... Pure profit! Agree to this and we'll agree to fight. Whaddaya say? It's win-win!"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (4) + 21 = 25
Diplomacy, free trader reroll: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (3) + 21 = 24
Diplomacy, spot of luck reroll: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (9) + 21 = 30

"Those are very funny voice modulations." Akh floats over to the anacites, giving up on the predator drone. "A fight sounds fine to me. I hope you know 77B was abetting a giant evil corporation that wants to grind the whole galaxy into UPBs. Probably."

"Oh crap... he didn't make it? " Melissa looks slightly surprised and more than a little crestfallen.

I actually reread the thread several times to make sure before I posted that... I think that's exactly what happened! Unfortunately for Melissa (and for Monitor 77B) the rest of the crew is not quite as first aid oriented as she is. Also, excellent "dwarven" word choice there.

"No. No. Well... ok, sure." Somehow, through a decent amount of skill and a touch of luck, Guess? manages to convince Tsalu to rope you into "The House" for the fight. By the time those two are done with their brief negotiation, the rest of the crowd has heard that you're fighting over an anacite that repressed androids. Unsurprisingly, in a mech-bar filled to the brim with anacites, that just about set off a civil war. Confident that you're (barely) preventing the downfall of the entire Station, you head towards the ring. On the way, Lift gently punches Akh on the shoulder. "Funny? Modulat-ahs cost a pretty cred! S-ah-pposed to make ah-s sound tough!" Haul, the other anacite, calls out to Melissa as your approach the ring. "You may have gotten bett-ah at putting folks back together, but we've gotten bett-ah at taking folks apah-t!" He flexes his metallic muscles ominously. He burps drunkenly, then adds, "I appreciate the th-ah-ght though. From the vids, it looked l-ah-k you were torturin' him or somethin'. Glad to hear you tried your best." He sways in place, somber, before the roar of the crowd behind you in the hallway brings him back to the moment. "Doesn't mean I can't bring honor to his name as I Kneipenschläge your face!"

*I do solemnly apologize for my horrific New Jersey accent for these two... It just felt right!

You separate from the anacites, filing into an elevator that brings you thirty feet down into "The Pot". The VR projectors built into the Pot’s walls project shifting holographic environments, making it difficult to see anyone more than ten feet away. Lift and Haul arrive on the other side, ready to rumble. The rhyphorian owner, Barnaba, takes to the microphone. His tenor voice drops a few octaves as he yells into the vintage microphone. "On the north side, we have two very drunk and very vengeful anacites on the side of justice - ready to salvage their dead comrade's honor!" A good portion of the crowd cheers for the pair. "And on the south side, a mob of ruthless killers!" He cocks his head to the side, listening to a whisper from his partner. "-I mean... a band of misunderstood ragamuffins eager to make their way in this world!" The remainder of the crowd begins to chant a popular Android Abolitionist Front slogan. With the room heating up, the bell rings! "ANNNNNNNND FIGHT!"

Everyone but Melissa is up! Also... Whoops! I missed a tableau of the CCC and Tsalu's portrait. Check out Slides 2 & 3 for that goodness.

As the fight starts, ALL of you feel weakened! Like your body is giving out, having a more difficult time moving...Everyone loses 7 hitpoints!

Whooaaa... I feel wobbly. You guys? I think I need to take a sick day...

Jaraduk shakes his head violently, hoping to throw off the physical malady.

But it's no good. He steps forward and throws a web grenade at the anacite on the right.

[move] move 5ft NE, drawing web grenade ii
[standard] attack GREY's square
web grenade ii attack vs. GREY's square (AC5): 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (11) + 16 = 27
GREY mired rounds: 2d4 ⇒ (4, 4) = 8
Mire

At the time I thought Strek would aid and tip it over to the 15. hence the OOC post a few things down about " we should be good on both android abolition and only qualifying as assaulthobos". But him not lasting until help arrived, or a freaked out Melissa mistaking a transponder for his beeping CPU, Or strek glugging slurm instead.. Or Resoria deciding he'd failed her too many times are all reasonable possibilities....

Perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19

Springing forth, Akh flies like a giant noodly arrow at the red anacite brawler. "Nasty trick making us all feel woozy. That's not very noodly of you." He slices down with his claw as he gets into range.

Entropic Claw vs EAC: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (11) + 16 = 27 Damage (A, force): 3d6 + 13 ⇒ (2, 4, 5) + 13 = 24
Grab Attention vs DC15+1.5*CR: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (9) + 13 = 22 Grab attention is an intimidate check vs. the typical demoralize DC. On a success, target is off-target vs. targets other than Akh for 1 rd

If that connects, Akh digs in with his claw and releases a pulse of disintegrating energy.

Spending a reaction to activate the entropy gloves vs. a construct. This casts entropic grasp against them without provoking an AoO. I can't quite tell if this is intended to give a saving throw from the spell description, or if the saving throw is only when used in the mode that damages armor. If it needs a save, it'll be Fort DC16 Negates.

Entropic Grasp damage: 6d12 ⇒ (1, 11, 4, 1, 12, 7) = 36

Perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (12) + 16 = 28

"Gobammit! That guy who was handing out drinks. He poisoned us and I think he's associated with those snipers that fired on us at Ratrod's!"

Guess? fires at red!
24-atm extrusion rifle vs KAC: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31 (Manual sight reduces range and AC cover bonuses by 2 if character doesn't move)
Damage (B): 2d10 + 9 ⇒ (9, 5) + 9 = 23
Trick Attack Damage: 4d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 5, 4) = 15 and flat-footed to all, if trick attack succeeded
Targets CR10 and below are auto flat-footed vs trick attack

"Oh, it wasn't these two who poisoned us Guess? Hmm... maybe they're in on it too, and this is all a cover story." Akh ponders as he slashes.

Jaraduk gums up one side of the arena, miring one brawler with sticky webbing. Difficult terrain circle! Akh moves in on the other side. Though his demeanor doesn't manage to attract the attention of the anacite, his fist sure does! It practically explodes with the power of negative energy when it connects. The anacite's shoulder begins to crumble into a cloud of rust! While many living creatures have a difficult time reading the expressions of anacites, everyone in the room can see the horror written across Lift's face. He blubbers, stopping only when the entropic force fades away - leaving a two foot hole where robotic muscle and bone used to be.

Concealment: 1d100 ⇒ 14

Guess? struggles to see through the virtual reality projections of The Pot's walls. Enemies seem to jump out at him. He fires at an anacite's glowing red eyes, only to destroy a wall panel two feet off from his actual target. All shots outside ten feet are going to suffer Concealment! The anacite gathers his courage and swings long arms at Akh. "You're - you're not gonna do to us what you did to Monitor!" The laborer's strong arms move quickly. Akh is able to duck under one but the other collides with his center mass.

plasma cutter @ Akh: 1d20 + 18 - 4 ⇒ (8) + 18 - 4 = 22
F Damage: 3d8 + 12 ⇒ (5, 1, 1) + 12 = 19
plasma cutter @ Akh: 1d20 + 18 - 4 ⇒ (15) + 18 - 4 = 29
F Damage: 3d8 + 12 ⇒ (3, 1, 8) + 12 = 24

The second anacite wades through the webbing, barely making it within reach of Jaraduk. "Us make you wobbly? That was the bartender's drinks!" His throat makes a metallic gurgle, an anacite belch. His long arm swings, plasma cutter arcing, but his drunken aim is poor. Jaraduk is able to juke back out of the way easily.

plasma cutter @ Jaraduk: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (4) + 18 = 22
F Damage: 3d8 + 12 ⇒ (3, 8, 1) + 12 = 24

Everyone is up! Round 2!
Melissa SP 22/55 HP 50/57 RP 10/10 ; Arsenic, Weakened
Akh SP 80/99 HP 60/67 RP 8/8 ; Arsenic, Weakened
Guess? SP 54/54 HP 40/47 RP 10/10 ; Arsenic, Weakened
Del SP: 45/45, HP: 42/49, RP: 5/5 ; Arsenic, Weakened
Jaraduk SP 53/72, HP 62/69, RP 10/10 ; Arsenic, Weakened

Red Anacite "Lift", 60 Damage
Grey Anacite "Haul", 0 Damage