Assaultmech Atlas 21-12's page

After a few minutes the assault mech comes out of his Jonis-induced fugue (perhaps the emotion surge is more than his A-TAC can process since its a problem that can't be solved with just more firepower?) and goes with Burgurk.

"Based on the circumstantial evidence that she was standing with the Legionaries, I conclude that she is still enrolled in our ranks," he grounds out as if reading a list of ingredients. "Additionally, affirmative, she is a recent recruit that gave me additional advice on how to act clandestinely before I went out on my last mis--mis---mis--mis--mission." He left hands twerks violently for a second then stops.

Lastly he gives an odd rumbling sound that could be considered a chuckle. "From what I know, not only will she not file a disciplinary report for the mercantile transaction of black-market goods, she may be able to facilitate such an exchange, and at advantage."

At the mention of the Glitterboy Atlas predictably rumbles to a half-crouch and falls silent.

He turns his head to indicate his companions, neck-servos whining softly. "This is Burgurk and Usele--erm, ah, the being known as Shakti."

Atlas nods once. "Residual resistance would be a natural response based on prior CS behavior. Let us know if we can be of assistance."

If Jalera is there he will introduce her as well.

Atlas sees the representative of the Legion and stomps to meet her. "Salutations, WhiteAngel. I did not...know you would be here. Are you...overseeing the hand-off of obligation?" he groans out in his typical monotone.

**Acknowledged,*** Atlas states as he re-embarks.

***That probably depends on more the 'how' of the asking than the 'what'...as soft squishy humans usually are in social interactions,*** Atlas opines over the comm channel.

"To the foolish, true wisdom would appear as foolishness. Burgurk, when we get back we need to have them adjust the Bureaucrat's crazy pills," Atlas retorts, explaining everything.

Atlas ponderously shakes his head as he replies over the comms. ***As usual the Useless Government Bureaucrat is so wrong she makes my point for me. It would be easy for me to remain silent and take on the appearance of another work-mech; just another beast of burden that is only harmful if approached.

Of course...***

The mission is technically complete. Once you guys get back to Whykin, you can radio home base and go from there... That is where you will get the rest of your experience and paycheck and the next mission..

***...we could just radio back to HQ if you are too afraid.***

***Pause a moment,*** Atlas interjects on the comms as Burgurk states his plan to decline the man. ***My A-TAC gives us a very low probability of coming up with a plan with a higher percentage of working than this one.
If you are afraid of the consequences, then I will commit the infiltration alone. I am able to carry all the wares and, if things go poorly, you will be able to extricate without further losses.

Is this amenable?***

I would try...but I don't "technically" have any dice in Persuasion, so I'd be at a minus -4- to so much as wish someone a good morning. Here, I'll try.

Wanting to be of some kind of help, Atlas observes what Burgurk is doing, and then tries the same thing, walking up to a passer-by at random.

"Salutations to you, would you be able to..."

Persuasion!: 1d4 - 4 ⇒ (4) - 4 = 0
Persuasion ACE!: 1d4 ⇒ 3 = 3
WILD Persuasion ACE!: 1d6 - 4 ⇒ (4) - 4 = 0

"...direct me to a merchant of weapons of death and destruction?"

Somehow he thinks that's not how nice people talk.

Yeah, slammed at work is putting it lightly. =/

I hate being -that guy- that is always posting slowly, but there's just something about a 13 hour day that doesn't leave time for typing. =(

I'd like to say it'll change soon, but, quite simply, it won't. The wife has decided that she's gonna take care of the kids and not work at all. Maybe that'll change in, ugh, 2 years when the little one starts school, or maybe not.

Mind you, we've got a crazy wacky plan that might execute within a year, or less. We could sell the house we live in now, and buy my mom's house, moving in with her, and helping her in her elderly years. That would cut down on the shelter costs enough so that I needed work -quite- so much.

Meh, we'll see.

Bereft of any foe, or any combat-oriented mission, Atlas resumed his introspective silence as the logistics of stuff and civilians was seen to.

'I was supposed to die gloriously defeating her. ...what is to become of me now?'

As Burgurk raises an excellent point, Atlas nods. "I would be happy to exterminate such foliage as required to enable trade between the two villages," he states. Call it odd, but he always did love murdering trees.

Some stuff:

1) Yeah, I think Humphrey is taking a break from the boards. He has a new job starting in late October, tho, so things may change on that front.

2) I don't think Atlas has much to do, currently, as it seems that the only thing we need to do is to convince some people that they really should take some potable wealth with them when they leave?

Seems like an easy field goal, but the combat cyborg still doesn't wanna try. ^_^

DM SBM - I searched both SWD and RIFTS for "quick encounter" , and couldn't find anything.

Oh thank goodness. I thought I was the only one!

In a mockery of breathing Atlas lets out an audible sigh and turns to the speaker. "The possibility of returning to this place, now that it is no longer an enemy base, is low.

Let us take what we can and go."

Atlas begins an in-depth evaluation of the machinery and technological gew-gads that compose the underground base, evaluating each for the possibility of dissembling it and carrying it above-ground where it might find a more...benevolent use.

Repair!: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Really?!?: 1d12 ⇒ 5 = eleventy billion
WILD Repair!: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Atlas simply stares at the empty space where the rift once stood. He looks almost...yearning?

Atlas covers the meandering horde, ensuring they do not interfere with the conclusion of the ritual.

Ayup. That was crazy!

"It is better to die for free will than live for yourself," Atlas drones as he advances on Greyspear, his heavy battle boots stomping ominously forward while the railgun spins up.

"Complete your ritual. I will handle her," he calls to the group.

'Target acquired,' the A-TAC happily chirps, several internal targeting recticles settling onto Greyspear.

Full Auto 1! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 12
Full Auto 2! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 5
Full Auto 3! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 16
Full Auto 4! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 10
WILD Full Auto 4! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d6 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 5

Full Auto Damage 1 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 4 + 1d6 ⇒ (6, 5) + 4 + (3) = 18
Full Auto Damage 2! AP6!: 2d8 + 4 ⇒ (5, 6) + 4 = 15
Full Auto Damage 3 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2, 8) + (1) + 4 = 15
Full auto damage ACE!!: 1d8 ⇒ 1 = 16 ._.
Full Auto Damage 4 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6, 2) + (2) + 4 = 14

Is anyone gonna be too mad at me when I just open fire?

The good of the many....

How large is a 'large' group of people? And do we know who they are?

*snicker* "Congratulations, Mr. Smith, you have the -highest- risk of suicide I've ever seen in someone." "Really, the very highest?" "Oh, yes, I'm certain." "Wow, well thanks. Your Training has certainly come in handy today!" "It certainly has! Have a good day now." "Oh, yes thank you sir! Have a good day!"

Apologies.

Atlas, approaching the closed door, had been about to reach out and try opening it, whether it wanted to or not. But at Burgurk's warning, he pulls back. "Acknowledged. Do you sense the purpose of the runes?"

Ever one to try violence, he lowers his weapon, but his A-TAC is unsure, and he hesitates. "Do...I...if the runes are activated by stimuli, then perhaps firing at the door will trigger them, and allow us to pass by? ...or...or I could open the door further with an inanimate object?"

Unused to dealing with straight-up magic, he pauses, getting conflicting suggestions from his programming.

We have only been going in one direction, so I assumed there only was one direction to go further down.

After thrusting in a fresh clip, Atlas reaches down one large battle fist and his metal claw crunches down on a corpse's skull. Servos whirring, he bring the thing up by the head and brings his eyes close, giving it a good look.

His fist of steel turns it this way and that, before finally letting it crash to the ground. "I deem a high percentage that we are better off having not saved them. You do not save a rabid dog," he says, looking to the others to see if they are ready to go on.

Huh. I somehow didn't catch that we were in a new round.

"I have no healing, but perhaps I can eliminate the chance of a continued threat," the assault mech states as his machine gun continues its blazing fire.

Full Auto 1! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 13
Full Auto 2! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 6
Full Auto 3! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 16
Full Auto 4! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 9
WILD Full Auto 4! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d6 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 7

Full Auto Damage 1 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 4 + 1d6 ⇒ (5, 3) + 4 + (6) = 18
Full Auto Damage 1 ACE!!!: 1d6 ⇒ 4 = 22
Full Auto Damage 2! AP6!: 2d8 + 4 ⇒ (7, 5) + 4 = 16
Full Auto Damage 3 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2, 6) + (5) + 4 = 17
Full Auto Damage 4 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2, 7) + (5) + 4 = 18

Wow. The odds of rolling that many twelves are, like, a LOT more than successfully navigating an asteroid field.

"Affirmative," the combat cyborg replies to Humphrey, "Volly'd and Thunder'd."

Full Auto 1! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 15
Full Auto 2! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 13
Full Auto 3! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 16
Full Auto 4! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 8
WILD Full Auto 4! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d6 + 4 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 4 - 2 + 2 = 8

Full Auto Damage 1 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 4 + 1d6 ⇒ (3, 4) + 4 + (4) = 15
Full Auto Damage 2 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 4 + 1d6 ⇒ (5, 1) + 4 + (3) = 13
Full Auto Damage 3 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2, 4) + (5) + 4 = 15
Full Auto Damage 4 RAISE!! AP6!: 2d8 + 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (8, 1) + (4) + 4 = 17
Full Auto Damage 4 ACE!!!: 1d8 ⇒ 1 ._.

Shakti, is that only for my repair rolls, or any rolls?

"Combat Initiated!" the battle robot shouts as his large railgun spins up and begins searching for targets with an almost precision-like skill.

Full Auto 1! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 + 2 = 4
Full Auto 2! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 + 2 = 6
Full Auto 3! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (8) - 2 + 2 = 8
Full Auto 4! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d12 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (9) - 2 + 2 = 9
WILD Full Auto 4! Auto and RDS(2)!: 1d6 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (5) - 2 + 2 = 5

Full Auto Damage 1! AP6!: 2d8 + 4 ⇒ (2, 4) + 4 = 10
Full Auto Damage 2! AP6!: 2d8 + 4 ⇒ (1, 8) + 4 = 13
Damage 2 ACE!!: 1d8 ⇒ 5 = 18
Full Auto Damage 3! raise! AP6!: 2d8 + 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4, 7) + (4) + 4 = 19
Full Auto Damage 4! raise!! AP6!: 2d8 + 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6, 1) + (5) + 4 = 16

Atlas just stared at the intervening conversation, unable to really follow it, and his A-TAC was sort of convinced that he'd end up opening fire anyway.

He felt mildly justified when a familiar voice came on with an obvious villain-taunt.

As the vats begin their decompression, faster than human thought could follow, his A-TAC interfaced with his onboard Central Electronis Package and his slotted skill-chip, running a thousand million Repair analytics of the machines, determining the purpose of, literally, every part, hose, and gizmo, and coming back with a solution to what could be causing the apparent air&alarm...along with a course of action to fix it.

Repair!: 1d12 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 5 - 2 = 6

Repair!: 1d6 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 5 - 2 = 5

Nope nope, Atlas has literally two purposes. Benny.

Repair!: 1d12 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 5 - 2 = 5

Repair!: 1d6 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 5 - 2 = 7

F~@$ YOU F~&$ YOU F$$~ YOU F#%+ YOU F&*# YOU F%!* YOU

Repair!: 1d12 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 5 - 2 = 12

Repair!: 1d6 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 5 - 2 = 5

That's better

"Jalera, what do you mean by 'wrong'? Are you referring to the gravity-defying inhabitants, or to some other attribute?"

Notice!: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
WILD Notice!: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
WILD Notice!: 1d6 ⇒ 5 = 13

Atlas' large head follows where Burgurk is pointing. His A-TAC gets to work breaking the shallow darkness and getting on with the important business of acquiring targets.

"Affirmative, I see them," Atlas says, seeing them quite clearly. "There are several child-sized creatures attempting to hide among narrow rafters and they are not doing a good job of it.

I recommend immediate eradication."

His grenade launchers slides silently out of his shoulder.

tough crowd...

Satisfied that the fragile fleshbags are ready to resume some GLORIOUS COMBAT, Atlas continues along the path he had been on, going past the doors and down the hallway.

"Burgurk. Are you prepared to move out, or do you require more rest/sexual intercourse to be prepared for the rest of the mission?" Atlas booms out in his normal combat-ready monotone.

"You do understand that a deal made under duress is not legally binding.

Also, you had better get some sleep. You said you were tired. You are doing a lot of non-sleeping for someone so tired. Are you very horny? Perhaps if you had intercourse with Shakti you would fall asleep faster?"

It was the only thing the A-TAC had that explained everything.

Normal rest it is then! And this room seems about as secure as any we've found.

Atlas cocks his head to the side and stares at Burgurk, as if he is speaking in a foreign language. "That statement consists of several leaps of logic. Our most powerful foe is Grayspear, not that Lifeform. Logic would dictate that if the Lifeform did not need Grayspear to conquer the planet, they would not have a pact and we would already have been consumed by it. Therefore any assumptions about its power are tangential at best.

So too, there are few things that we must do, and they are mostly confined to obeying gravity and absorbing heat. To say that a verbal contract has meta-physical bounds is, also, tangential."

Atlas believes that he and Humprey have an understanding.

By any means necessary.

Gona have to get back to you on that, Shakti. Don't have my rulebook to hand and there's nothing about it in my characters many, many upgrade notes.

The A-TAC had, if not a plan, it had the kernel of a plan. And to Jalera's question, he had an answer.

"What we want is to survive. On our current course, we were certain that we would not survive. We have taken an action that increases our suvivability. That is what we want," his mechanical voice booms out, certain of its own logic.

"That another world would die so that ours may live is NOT a wrongful act. To consume one banana instead of another is still to reduce the population of bananas by one--it is an even, morally neutral trade, by any measure.

...you're not dead yet," he ends potentiously.

"Burgurk," he says, changing the subject, "here is as good a place to rest and gather our strength for a final push as any.

Do as your fragile meat-body wills you."

Atlas nods. "One world for another is, of course, an even trade, on a macro-scopic scale.

Lifeform, I concur to your plan."

Atlas' A-TAC was already at work, patiently chewing on the new problem, like a preying mantis having caught a new bug.

Do...do we have any way of fulfilling any of that? Do we even know where they came from or how to access that? Without that knowledge the whole point seems mute?

Atlas' A-TAC is musing on the same thing, to the detriment of other systems, and he can't let this go unanswered. "Concurance. Sustenance, for whatever form it takes, seems a relatively simple thing.

That we represent political entities that might be willing to make alternative arrangements is, actually, just sauce for the goose."

It seems logical to Atlas, as plain as the shortest distance between a bullet and a target.

Muskels!: 1d12 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 - 2 = 8
WILD gyrating pulsing muskels!: 1d6 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 - 2 = 2

The cyborg's combat-ready pistons whine only briefly as they force the door's mechanics to SUBMIT to his metal grip. Only needing one hand to hold the door, he gets some debris from the floor and wedges it in. On the outside.

"All communication is null and void unless you are able to join us in our attempts to eliminate Greyspear.

Do not be so secure in your immortality," he groans out. Whatever it is, it needs to be reminded that everything dies.

He leaves further negotiations for the weak mortals. They like that sort of thing.

"Oh no you don't," Atlas exclaims as he slams a hand into the closing door, faster than anything that big has a right to move.

Holding it open with one battle-fist, he looks around for something to prop it open with.

Failing that, he'll just wrench it open.

As the Government Bureaucrat states that she fears something here, he briefly wonders if it might be a voter trying to take away her lavish benefits or no-cost health care. Or something might be actually dangerous, so he gives a higher priority to keeping the door intact.

"In that case hand me something in case we need to re-lock it in here."

sry. Had final for class. done now.

Atlas approaches the access panel and studies it. He touches it with one finger and conducts a small amount of juice at it while his A-TAC searches for some kind of wireless handshake to see if it can't be convinced that it doesn't "technically" need any card right now.

Repair!: 1d12 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
WILD Repair!: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Atlas looks around. He starts ripping open the doors more fully and clearing out the debris that blocks the entrance.

He does this with the goal of clearing a path so the muck can start to drain out.

He's not above ripping a hole in the floor so it can drain proper, but he'd like to avoid that if possible.

The assaultmech shakes his head, unable to match the data-pieces of the present smell of blood with the target of a mission. It just...didn't make sense.

Assuming that more destruction would lead to the solution of the puzzle, he treads on.

I did what now? Can someone site that post?

"Wait, it smells like WHAT?" Atlas booms unbelievingly. He covers a finger in the odd substance and lets his onboard comp run analysis on it.

Notice!: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
WILD Notice: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

Repair!: 1d12 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
WILD Repair: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

"If you make a hole big enough, coagulation becomes irrelevant," Atlas martially states as he unerringly treads on, the scene before him as well lit as a sunday picnic.

As fast as the slight changes, Atlas' onboard Optics Passage compensates for the change in illumination, shaking hands with the A-TAC so he never really notes it becoming an issue until the Mere Mortal pulls out a light.

Atlas continues tromping along.

Cyper Optics Package 'ignores' illumination penalties.