"Yeah, anyway, you can blame the gnome. Would have been quiet without him spilling the beans. Gnomes."
Alfonse follows Aldo into the back.
Kaden simply nods and shrugs off the words. Obviously, this is not the first firefight in the bar.
The party steps into the VIP area to find a lone drow - tall and handsome, and dressed in expensive casual clothing that would fit in at a party or rave. The lack of bodyguards is somehow more intimidating. "Ah, Kaz, Angel, Alf, Chip, and Aldo. Welcome. I hope your exercise in the bar doesn't translate to aggression here. Captain Cygnaurius, I'm assuming this will be a simple transaction. I've been instructed to hire the BD514 to transport 50 tons of weapons from Apostae to the planet Vohxa in Near Space. The cargo will be delivered to your starship in the hangar where you are currently landed, and delivery should be made to Commander Vash at Labor Camp 1120 on Vohxa’s surface. Seems straight forward. Are we done?"
"Tause, I am honored to meet you. You make this sound like a perfectly straight forward mission, which we like. However, that being said, can you tell me, will the Nightarch authorities prevent us from shipping weapons? Do these weapons need to be smuggled or do we have authority to ship them?"
"Smuggled? You're on Apostae, you know that right? Arms exporting is our largest industry by FAR. You're going to a reliable customer, the Gridiron. They’re building more warships every day for their conflict with the Marixah Republic, and any other world unfortunate enough to have once had a hobgoblin population,” Tause explains. “Those warships are filled with soldiers, soldiers need guns, and Lord Sinjin supplies those guns. With your help, of course.”
He hands you a screen with the logistics; inventory, quantities, seals of approval, and confirmation that the taxes and fees have been paid.
Also, Captain, are there any assurances Commander Vash is actually at Camp 1120? We are a bit...skittish since our last "straightforward" job.
"Oh, we also have a reputation for vetting. This job will go through. Trust me."
"Well, this sounds very reassuring. We look forward to making this a lucrative partnership."
Aldo looks at the screen with logistics and forwards the info to his own personal comm unit and to that of the rest of the team.
"Alright, team, unless you have other questions, let's get the ship loaded up!"
Kazador gives the drow something between a nod and short bow. The vesk has no questions. He is ready to go.
"Oh, we also have a reputation for vetting. This job will go through. Trust me."
Alfonse raises an eyebrow at that, but says nothing.
Alf thinks this drow would kill his momma for a nickel, but doesn't think he's blowing smoke in your cheek pouches.
Unlike your last pick up, this one goes without a hitch. Soon after leaving, a truck driven by a crew of four orcs arrives with 50 tons of tactical infinity rifles and mk 2 frag grenades, all carefully packed, tracked, and sealed. The orcs load the cargo onto BD514 over the course of several hours...
Angel keeps an eye on things to make sure they aren't sneaking anything else on board.
Alfonse takes inventory of each crate as it loaded, taking pictures of identifying marks on the crates, noting their state prior to being moved into our ship. He's more concerned that the crates will be empty, or having something other than what is expected in them, though he does hope.
The party watches and tracks while the orcs kvetch and moan about the pay compared to the labor...
although he doubts any will come, Chip watches for external threats while the others are focused on the goods.
Though purposefully gruff while the orcs were working, Kaz tips the guys 10 credits after they are done. Go get a drink.
The vesk checks in with the rest of his crew. Everything went fairly smooth. Lets get the hells out of here before something goes wrong.
Once everything is loaded, Alfonse ashes, ”Do we need to pick up any weapons? After those leaches, I was thinking a semiautomatic would be helpful. This seems to be the place to do it. ”
Once everything is loaded, Alfonse ashes, ”Do we need to pick up any weapons? After those leaches, I was thinking a semiautomatic would be helpful. This seems to be the place to do it. ”
The vesk thinks about it for a moment. He nods …Ill loan you some creds if you need it. Its not a bad idea.
”I agree. We were attacked hauling berries. Why would we not be attacked transporting weapons? Pick up whatever you think we need.”
The orcs are genuinely surprised to be tipped. It's clear they are typically ignored on a job like this. One of the orcs speaks up. His accent is strange, like Common is his third language, "Hey you looking to equip before you leave? Around the corner is my brother's shop. If you tell him Fracter sent you, he'll give you a small discount. It ain't going to be much, but creds are creds man."
"Kaz, I am very impressed with you generosity. Most people I know are out to make every credit they can get their hands on, but you are not consumed by the greed that tempts so many of us. Now, your good deed has paid off with a generous return from that orc. We all have a great deal to learn from you."
Turning to the others, Aldo comments, "This is the time and place to purchase any items you may need. Once you are all set, let me know and we will have Alf start his launch check."
Alfonse comes back with a nice looking pistol strapped to his hip. "Ok, ready to go."
Alfonse comes back with a nice looking pistol strapped to his hip. "Ok, ready to go."
Kaz went with. He bought a pair of frag grenades. yes, lets
Alfonse comes back with a nice looking pistol strapped to his hip. "Ok, ready to go."Kaz went with. He bought a pair of frag grenades. yes, lets
Angel purchases a couple of grenades as well.
Ready to go, the team takes off. The BD514 isn't a very powerful ship, and it's going to be a haul. Once clear, you hit Driftspace.
The computer comes back with an ETA: days!
The journey to Vohxa is uneventful, and you arrive at a small world awash in snow and rock, its jutting mountain peaks competing with the lofty factory towers that clutter the planet’s surface. As soon as BD514 emerges from the Drift, the ship is detected by a fleet of Gideron Authority vessels patrolling the system. A Sword-class attack vessel approximately twice the size of BD514 peels away from the hobgoblin fleet and pulls alongside the your vessel, targeting it with weapons and broadcasting a warning in Common: “This is the Gideron Authority attack vessel Falchion. Identify yourselves and your mission.”
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”Aldo, play it smooth, like. This is our customer. We are expected. ”
Also replies to the communication. "Acknowledged, Falchion. We are BD514 on route from Apostae. We are delivering goods to the Gridiron authorities."
There is a very pregnant pause before the reply comes. "Acknowledged. You have permission to land at Labor Camp 1120. Any deviation from this flight plan will be met with sustained anti-aircraft fire."
As BD514 descends through the clouds toward its destination, signs of war and conflict quickly become apparent. Blast craters and wrecked vehicles pockmark fractured highways, shattered stumps of smokestacks rise from shut-down factories, and the tracks of hobgoblin war machines crisscross the countryside. Labor Camp 1120 comes into sight: a large rectangular compound nestled against the foot of a mountain, surrounded by high walls and spiral wire, accessed by a single enormous gate and protected by multiple guard towers with gun emplacements. A flat landing area with several parked vehicles has room for BD514. A cavernous mine entrance leads into the mountain. The camp has several rugged, prefabricated buildings, but also sports a large collection of plastic shelters that look like they provide little protection from the cold mountain air. Hobgoblin soldiers patrol or guard locations throughout the camp.
Moments after you land a female hobgoblin officer strides forward waving a datapad, a squad of troopers at her back. “What are you doing here? This camp is not cleared for civilian access!”
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Alfonse sighs as they once again get the gruff treatment.
Aldo, gives the competent, polite, but experienced response.
"I am Captain Aldo Cygnaruius. Who do I have the honor of addressing? I am leading a team who flew here from Apostae to deliver a shipment of weapons. That is very kind of you to be concerned about our safety, but have no worries; we are no strangers to danger. Besides, we were given clearance to land and deliver the goods to this destination. Once we have unloaded and confirmed payment, we will be out here."
"Name is Siib. Look you can’t unload 50 tons of personal armaments here,” the officer insists, gesturing around the camp. “Look around you! This is a prison labor camp! Do you think it’s a wise idea to put laser rifles and frag grenades a few yards away from this desperate swarm of vermin?” She gestures toward the dwarven, human, and shirren prisoners in threadbare and sometimes tattered clothing, hiding inside cheap plastic shelters or shambling in and out of the mine entrance under the close eye of Gideron guards. Some eye the starship curiously while also trying to avoid the attention of the soldiers. “We don’t even have a place to store them!”
She shakes her head. “I’m not signing off on this,” she insists. “Not unless you take all this someplace safe. We have an armory just up the mountain, and a couple of trucks. I can spare some soldiers to drive one of them, but if you want your credits, you’ll have to take the other.”
"Okay, Siib. I appreciate your directness. It seems that nothing is as straighforward as they make it out to be. So, you are saying that if we want the credits, we need to take them up the mountain? So, what troubles do you anticipate we'll meet if we were to move this weapon shipment up to the armory?"
"Trouble? I'm not your therapist. Just go!" She storms off without another word.
Looking around, the camp seems like bad news. Dwarf, human, and shirren prisoners are being slowly starved and worked to death. Hobgoblin guards routinely abuse the adult prisoners, sometimes whipping them with taclashes; these whippings have shredded the shirts of many of the prisoners. You see a shirren fearfully enter a cage with viciously looking quadrapeds that look like jacked dog-rats.
This place is bad news...
Aldo waits until he is certain that he is out of earshot of any hobgoblins before he says the following to his crew mates.
"I was seriously trying to help us get out of the red and into the black, but dammit! I hate seeing human, dwarf, and even shirren prisoners held up here. This was supposed to be a nice easy milk run, but in the end, I am starting to have second thoughts. Do you see any ways we can free a few prisoners without getting caught ourselves?"
Aldo looks around for anything that looks like he could discretely do to help the prisoners.
Kaz sees the look in Aldo’s eyes. When there is a quick moment not in front of any of the others, Kaz pulls him aside and whispers Captain, lets do the job and get paid. The vesk gives him a serious look. Then after, maybe there will be an opportunity. The vesk moves his head in a odd manner. He looks back to Aldo Then again, we helped that fracking gnome and he turned around and screwed us for it…
"Captain, lets do the job and get paid."
"You are quite right, Kaz. Look what helping that gnome got us. Some serious trouble. We need to stay focussed on the job!"
Turning to Alf, he asks, "Are you good driving a big truck up a mountain?"
”If that’s what we have to do. 50 tons in a truck. And why can’t we just fly up there?”
"And why can’t we just fly up there?”
"I'll look into it, but there is probably some reason like a lack of landing pad. That and they probably want to taunt us by seeing humans, dwarves and the like being imprisoned and tortured. By the way, did you see those dog rat creatures? This job is a fine line and if we stepped off of the path, one of us could end up in the cage!"
Alfonse tries to remember what he can about the dog-rats
Alf thinks they're "hobbe hounds." Genetically and alchemically modified animals. Generations of experimentation has led to this strange species that is strong, hard to grab, and known for their vicious bite.
Aldo confirms that there's no landing pad.
Everyone feels uncomfortable, and it's made worse when the shirren loses his nerve and flees the cage.
Time to start....
....the cage from which he fled remains unlocked!
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Everyone feels uncomfortable, and it's made worse when the shirren loses his nerve and flees the cage.
Time to start....
....the cage from which he fled remains unlocked!
Aldo, I believe this job is going to "go south" very quickly if those hobbe hounds get out of the cage. While a distraction would be excellent to try to cause chaos here, this does not appear to be... here, Chip tips his head a bit, and puts on a slower, slurred drawl the...opportune moment... then he returns to his normal voice I believe I can take care of the cage, maybe even a bit surreptitiously.
(unless he's ordered otherwise,) Chip's drone disconnects from his noggin, and flies to the cage. Its arms extend, and Chip directs it to lock the cage again.
"I believe I can take care of the cage, maybe even a bit surreptitiously."
"Make it so!"
Chip sends the drone forth, but it's almost too late! A pair of hobbes brake free before the drone can lock the cage. You're the closest meals, so they head your way!
ROUND 1:
Alf: Go
Chip: Go
Angel: Go
Aldo: Go
Kaz: Go
Hounds: TBD
******************************************
Location: Vohxa
INITIATIVE:
Black:
Red:
Angel takes out her rifle and fires at the closest hobbe.
Chip's drone rises high enough to get out of the hounds' reach, and fires off a shot. Chip himself, with a quite, deep-voiced expletive draws his laser pistol and fires on the same puppy
"Oh, crap! It is never easy, is it?"
Alfonse pulls his laser pistol and shoots at red as he moves back.
"Here they come!"
Aldo draws his laser rifle and shoots at the red hound!
Round 1
The vesk swears a little and calmly shoulders his rifle. He aims and squeezes the trigger.
Ranged
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