Big Red Dredd's page

Dredd moves into position between the strange new reaper and the party, firing a salvo of razor sharp pain into the thing's "face."

ATK: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 18
DMG: 4d6 + 5 ⇒ (6, 5, 4, 3) + 5 = 23 Impact, piercing; reduce DT by 10 to determine condition adjustment.

Still rubbing the stars out of his eyes, Dredd grumbles to the rest of the crew, "Huhh. Ever wonder if the universe is trying to tell you something, but not sure if it's just trying to piss you off?" Dredd doesn't wait for anyone to answer in particular. "I got the feeling like this wasn't the only one of these things on board this ship. Whatever they are, they emit a powerful biotic emission when destroyed, so I think it's safe to assume they are some sort of reaper control interface; allows the reapers to direct the ship as if it were a living thing, almost like a parasite. Probably want to knock out any other ones we find... but maybe stand a little further back next time?"

use Biotics: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (10) + 13 = 23
Dredd grumbles obscenities to himself as he comes to.

"Haha HA!" Dredd roars with laughter as the cannibal's claws rake against him. "Who's ready to bring the PAIN?!" he yells as his fist becomes surrounded by hard-light panels, growing a foot long blade in front of his knuckles. He slams the omni-blade into the face of the cannibal in front of him in a vicious uppercut.
Melee: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (20) + 13 = 33 Lol, my turn for a crit.
Critical damage: 6d8 + 18 ⇒ (7, 8, 5, 5, 4, 6) + 18 = 53

Barriers down to 46/70.

Dredd grunts as the hail of bullets impact against his biotic bariers, small projectiles flicking away with no significant personal effect. His barriers holding he primes a second volley and fires at the next closest cannibal moving towards the doorway. (YC0)
attack: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20
damage: 4d8 + 9 ⇒ (2, 8, 7, 8) + 9 = 34

The room being full of husks, who must needs make their way through the door to reach the stacked up party, Dredd begins charging his Graal to cull any husks that make it through the killing field. Move action: charge weapon. Readied attack > first group of husks to make it to the doorway.

Just as the door opens, Dredd spots the sentry. *Hold up* he signals with a raised fist. *Sentry. 1* he indicates it's location, *Quiet kill?* he looks to commander Taranau.

perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30 Psshhhhhh-whaaaaa??
"Well, since we've let them know we're coming, we'd better not keep them waiting," Dredd growls as he lumbers towards the newly opened passage.

Dredd doesn't waste any time. Seeing as the inferno grenade was already in his hands after his twitch reaction to Awyr calling out...

"Kill it with fire!"

...he primes it and tosses it on the pile of body parts that once sort of... vaguely... represented an experimental reaper unit. The grenade chirps once before enveloping the... thing, in a ball of fire. The smell of burning flesh and circuitry is added to the already overwhelming stench of decay that pervades the lab. "Damn. Batarians are ugly enough to begin with. I'm glad to see that thing go."

Dredd heals an adittional 8hp off the medi-gel. Forgot character level gets added.

Spending 3 swift actions to use Recovery, removing persistent condition.
Never mind, forgot to apply DR to the 44 critical damage. That makes it only 30 which is 1 point below my DT. No condition applied :D
Spending swift action to take Second Wind, recovering 22 hp.
Can't take second wind. Did not take enough damage. derp

Dredd takes out a medi-gel pack and sticks it in his leg. The gel stings as it begins repairing some of the damaged tissue.
treat Injury: 1d20 + 5 - 5 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 5 - 5 + 2 = 21 6 hp recovered. 1 medi-gel spent.
Dredd checks his weapon mags and assumes ready position.

GM, please clarify, is the 16 damage from multiple Husk attacks? Because if so I take none. If not I take 2.

attack: 1d20 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 10 + 1 = 28
dmg: 4d8 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (2, 5, 1, 3) + 4 + 1 = 16 oh poop that was very sub par damage.
Improved devastating attack applies to the target hit: treat the target's Damage Threshold as 10 lower than normal for determining whether it moves down on the condition track.
Both Dredd and his trusty Graal roar back at the swarming husks. But while only violent flecks of foam spray from Dredd's mouth, a spray of foot-long sharpened blades erupt from the muzzle of the gun, shredding one of the husks. Dredd grins in fury and challenges the husks, "who wants some more, huh?" He stands his ground and holds the trigger, charging the shotgun for another volley.

Dredd advances towards the oncoming husks (or those that remain). Dredd to O,13 The servos of his Graal spikethrower whir to life as he begins charging the weapon.

Secretary's expression plates ripple. "Out of many organic behaviours, this is one of the most baffling to us. Why not say 'We organics do not get along', instead of a patently false and opposite answer that means the same thing? Sarcasm seems deeply rooted in most cultures, yet its existence is completely irrational."

"Maybe, but that's life. Welcome to the real world," Dredd grins and nods his head. "Been a good talk, Rusty." With that, Dredd leaves and returns to his room.

Huh, very smart there with the Dredd Pirate Roberts. "Perhaps I'll take up a new title," Dredd thinks to himself.

"And with Karshan gone as well, we will likely see a lot of those blasted Cannibals. Poor souls," Awyr takes another sip of her coffee.

"Good thing the reapers didn't get much time on Tuchanka. I'd hate to see what they'd turn a Krogan into. That'd be a nasty piece of work." Dredd growls darkly.

------

'Don't poke fun at my expense, boy....... you won't like what will happen.'

Nnhh, touchy... Dredd watches Brutvus leave in the same way he arrived: cumbersome and obtuse.

"Urdnot Dredd, can you explain the purpose of sarcasm? We are capable of detecting when an organic life-form uses it, via tone of voice and obviously false statements, but do not understand the reasoning behind it. Why say a statement to imply the opposite?"

"What, it wasn't obvious, Rusty?" Dredd flashes a toothy grin at the geth, "It's because we organics get along so well with each other, that's why." Dredd lets the sarcasm drip out of that statement like condensation oozing out of a ventilator shaft.

Awyr staggers out of her room, now fully dressed. She trudges like a zombie towards the lounge, where she fumbles the coffee maker like a hesitant lover.

Hissing her frustration at her ineptitude, she punches the coffee maker. With a clunk it starts bestowing upon her the nectar of the Goddess. A small smirk blossoms on Awyr's face.

F&%$ mornings," she mutters quietly.

"Amen to that," says Dredd, and takes a swig from his own mug. Anyone standing nearby might notice it smells slightly... toxic. Dredd likes to take his coffee with kick, as he will tell you. Though lately he seems to be getting less and less of a kick...

Having acquired coffee, Awyr wakes up.

"What was it you wanted, Dredd?"

"Just wondered what your opinion of the mission is," Dredd queries from the doorway. "Doesn't seem the usual sort of Reaper tactics, boarding and taking an enemy craft in one piece. I've seen a couple hulks hit by reapers before. Usually isn't much left..." Dredd pauses to take another sip of his rync-I mean-coffee. "This mission smells funny." He grumbles, and waits to see if Awyr has anything to say.

--------

'Red,' he grunts towards Dredd, already having forgotten his name.

"Big guy," Dredd responds in kind.

Secretary adopts a similar stance, standing ram-rod straight in salute. "We look forward to working with you, Baso-Captain."

"Well look at us, one big, happy, bonding family." Dredd grumbles in sarcasm.

"Our role is similar to yours, Urdnot Dredd. We are here with our allies to defeat the Old Machines. This frame is prepared primarily for combat."

"In addition, we collect data on the galaxy outside the Perseus Veil, to gain a greater understanding of organic life. There are many things that we do not comprehend, and it is our sincere wish to learn."

"Eh, ok." Dredd grunts, furrowing his brow, trying to decide whether he got the answer to the question he asked, or to the next three. He decides that either way, he probably should have expected this. "So, have you seen a lot of action?" he asks, trying to keep the conversation on a topic he can follow, "What sort of specialization do you have?"

"We do not sleep, Urdnot Dredd. Nor are we comprised of components capable of oxidation." The geth moves away from its docking station, and indicates that Dredd may sit on the bed, if he wishes. "How may I be of service?"

The Geth's overly polite manner is unsettling to Dredd. He simply can't get over the fact that he is talking to a machine. "Uh, right, um... listen we're going to be working together for a while so I thought I'd make some friendly chit-chat, try to get to know you, that sort of thing."

Wow, this is going great, Dredd's sarcastic inner voice does nothing to aide him in trying to find an actual topic of conversation. What do you talk to a machine about anyways? Dredd ponders this in the awkward silence. He still hasn't taken the offered seat. Subconsciously he is debating whether this venture is worth the effort now that he's here.
Finally he asks, "so what is it that you... do, exactly? I mean, apart from being a walking computer."

...

Stepping out of the shower clad solely in a towel, Awyr stares at Dredd. "Get the F&%$ out of my room."

Ok so you dislike that I decided to launch multiple conversations simultaneously. You don't have to be an a** about it.

For Dredd, the experience of seeing a half-naked Asari - his superior officer, no less - is an experience akin to being hit by a freight train at top speed: stunning, and not something he wishes to repeat. Right, they have private washrooms on this level. Knock next time.

"Uhh, right. Apologies commander," Dredd says as he backs out of the room.
Well, that went well...

”Won that is a game. Don’t have a use for it so I figured you would like it. Don’t have any other krogans on board. Welcome to your new home Dredd. Welcome to the Defiant. Hope you like your gift.”

"You just might be the first Geth that's made me smile," says Dredd, grinning at the casks. There are a number of barrels sitting in the middle of the room. Dredd gets himself busy stacking them against the back wall, in the corner across from the bed. Once he is satisfied he takes the glass out of the hygiene cupboard and taps one of the barrels. It's cheap quality Ryncol, but it's still Ryncol. Gonna have to requisition a few shot glasses next, I think, Dredd muses to himself.

...

Next Dredd decides to go on a bit of a self-guided tour of the ship. He stops at the flight deck and watches a number of the fighters being loaded into the carrier craft. A couple of pilot's are sitting nearby, playing cards. Dredd lumbers up and says "Move over," to the nearest one and promptly pulls up a chair and sits down, joining the circle. A few rounds later, he has lost what pocket creds he had. Scowling he walks away... but then returns a short while later with one of the Ryncol casks. "I'm not done here yet," he says to the amused pilots, who laugh and let him in once more.

...

Next he stops by the gunnery. He watches the mechanics calibrate the main weapons with idle curiosity. He spots Brutvus helping cart around the ammunition. Show off, he thinks, doesn't he realize that they can do that with their loading carts? He doesn't have to get in the way, and if he gets himself hurt we're going to be the ones to pay for it... Ah, you make too much fuss Dredd. He's probably fine.

Dredd makes a point of greeting Brutvus as he goes back to get another load. "So big guy. Don't know much about you, other than your name. What kind of action have you seen?" Dredd walks alongside Brutvus waiting for an answer.

...

Continuing his tour, Dredd stops by the engine room. The two massive drive cores leave barely enough room to stand in the smaller than optimal service area, so he watches from an upper observation window. The mechanics scurry back and forth below, tinkering with this and that, making sure the engines are running at peak performance. Dredd stays there for a while watching.

...

On his way back to his room, Dredd stops by the Geth's chambers. Dredd, like many galactic citizens, has had a hard time adjusting to working with the robotic species, who were once a threat to any organics that entered the Perseus veil. Dredd had personally fought Geth in the attack on the citadel more than 8 years ago. However, since then the geth have begun to play a major role in the war against the reapers. Dredd has come to accept that fact, but working alongside a geth will be a new experience, and Dredd isn't exactly partial to new experiences. Maybe a bit of small talk will help. I need to at least know what to call it.

"Hey rusty," Dredd says as the door to the Geth's chambers open. The geth is currently "docked" at it's docking station. The bed is untouched. Why did they even need to put one in here? he wonders. It's not like it needs one.

"Err, you awake?" he asks, sounding confused.

...

Back in his own chambers Dredd makes sure his equipment is in order, then takes a nap. It will still be a while until they drop, so he intends to be fresh when they do.

...

Dredd wakes with plenty of time until they need to load the shuttle. He decides a brief talk with their new spectre commander couldn't hurt. Making his way to the spectre's quarters he decides tactics should be the order of conversation. Best to have a bit of a game plan, I think.

"Commander," Dredd says, by way of greetings, "what's your take on the mission?"

...

Dredd spends what time remains before the mission to check and double check his armor and weapons, cleaning his trusty Graal with an oilcloth and nail file.

"Any questions?"

Dredd grumbles something that sounds like "no sir" and waits for dismissal. He's about as curious about this reaper possessed ship as the next person, but he hates mission briefings. They usually go on too long in his opinion. What is intriguing though is that the ship was silent for six years, nearly the extent of the war thus far. It must have been taken out during the first wave of the reaper invasion. Why would the reapers have held onto it this long? The answer as to why they were using it now seemed obvious: camouflage. Hiding reapers on board a batarian ship so as to sneak their forces into batarian space was as old a trick as wood, nails, and one over zealous carpenter. The only question was, why now? Dredd doubted they'd get that answer though.

...

After they are dismissed, Wrex takes Dredd over to his "office."

"Nice to see one of my own joining the strike teams."

"Well when I heard that our glorious leader was taking up command, I thought 'Well, someone's gotta take his place on the field,' Might as well be me."

"Jorgal was hard on you before because I told him to be. Your are one of my clan. Everywhere you turn people are going to say that you only got this position because I helped you. I didn't. You got here because you earned it but other's will talk. Prove them wrong little one."

"I've taken on bigger brutes than him," Dredd grumbles sardonically. "People will talk, so who cares. I am Krogan. I speak with actions, and actions speak louder than words. Don't worry chief, I'll make clan Urdnot proud." He bumps his fist on his chest plate in respect.

Wrex hands you one of the drinks. "To clan Urdnot, to friends, to victory." Wrex stops for a moment before taking the drink. "To you Mordin. You dam singing fool. We owe you much." The Krogan down their drinks. It taste terrible and gets you buzzed the second you down. Most likely that is the point.

Dredd shakes his head, feeling the buzz. "Ah-HA, now THAT's the way to start a Monday!" Dredd says with new vigour. "We owe a lot to Mordin." he acknowledges, "I understand you knew him personally. Shame I never got to meet him, though I used to work with this one Salarian in C-sec.." The two trade a few more words until Wrex is called back to his duties.

Dredd grumbles in resentment at being mocked as a "little Krogan." He continues to lumber down the hallway after the rest. I hate Mondays.

"This is your investigation," Dredd whispers back, "you call the shots. She may even know what's on this drive. If so, she's likely in danger, but she may also be able to fill in the pieces of this puzzle without us having to search for them."

Dredd idly taps his foot against the floor in aggitation. He whispers to Serona, "I don't like this. Could be a set-up. In any event, if she's telling the truth then Casey probably already knows about what's going on. If all we're doing is informing her of Aron's death, then we're wasting our time." Dredd thinks a moment longer then asks Serona, "Are you thinking Casey knows why Aron got shot, or maybe even who shot him?"

Of course Krogan don't whisper very well. It's more like a subdued rumble.

Not Casey then. Dredd puzzles as he walks in, What the hell is going on? What did Jeem get himself into? He keeps his weapon drawn but not threateningly, just cautiously. The woman may be dangerous, or she may just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Stranger things have happened.

Sidling up next to the door across from Serona, Dredd whispers, "Sounds like she's home, at least I can hear her talking to someone. Don't hear a second voice though. Probably on comm. Sounds like she knows about Aron."

Dredd keeps listening. This smells funny. I don't like it. That niggling survival instinct is telling him to suppress his urge to barge in. Eavesdropping is likely to turn out more information right now.

Noticing the appartment door is standing open, two thoughts immediately cross Dredd's mind. Either she's out and we've missed her, or something bad is about to happen... again...

Dredd takes a look around. He also sniffs the air - a bit of a habit from the old days in the merc squads. Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

Dredd shifts idly in the background as Serona continues to talk with Officer Ron. With this many people around he's decided not to fiddle with his shotgun - might be bad for public image, plus there's no need - and that only makes him more agitated. He wishes Police work didn't involve so much talking, but that's politics. At least Serona seems to handle the bureaucracy well. When Ronald asks why they were here, he wonders if he should speak up, but he waits to see if Serona wants him to. He expects she can handle the details with better acuity anyways.

workin the red eye shift. brilliant. i'll keep that in mind for the next couple of posts.

Dredd grabs the girl as she is thrown his way. A moment later her compatriot (who he was about to biotic charge) explodes into a cloud of fine red mist. Aww for the love of-

"I got the girl!" Dredd yells above the commotion.

How do grapple checks work is SWRPG? Can we just assume I make it?

Dredd also looks around for the cause of the explosion. Must be a shooter somewhere.
perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Roll me into your initiative as order goes. I was just taking my prepared action last round ie: round before combat.

Aww dang I rolled well on initiative. Well doesn't really matter I guess, just have me go after the runaway.

Dredd grins to himself as he charge blindly through the screen of smoke. There's gonna be hell to pay for this, I know, but what fun would it be if he just have up and came quietly. Besides, now I get to charge him for resisting arrest, and I love charging people for resisting arrest. Usually means you get to have some fun first.

Spotting the runaway again Dredd charges after him. "Boy, you'd better just give up now! Things are only gonna get worse from here on out!" he bellows as he thunders after him, his heavy footsteps pounding the ground as he picks up speed. "Or you could keep running," he says to himself, That would be more fun."

Action summary, double moving to keep up with the shady guy, clearing smoke first then following his path.

If you would prefer that the smoke cloud provides total concealment (as in totally impossible to see through) then take another 3 off the attack roll as the penalty increases to -5.

FYI, a combat map, or at least some rudimentary details would be appreciated. Since you have neglected to narrate as such, I'm going to assume he is in point blank range. I'm also going to assume the smoke grenade only provides concealment at this range.

Dredd swears, then fires.

Point blank, no penalty. Concealment, -2 attack (already factored in).
Shotgun, attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
Shotgun, damage: 3d10 + 1 ⇒ (9, 8, 8) + 1 = 26

Holy crow, damage. Too bad it'll miss if he has any levels or armor at all.

Dredd's shotgun barks as it spews a fistful of flèchete particles into the cloud of smoke where the man was standing.

Seeing Serona lift the would be thief helplessly off the ground, Dredd trains his shotgun on her accomplice. He glares at him menacingly, and growls "Answer the question bud, and make it snappy."

Dredd is preparing an attack should the man decide to run or turn hostile.

Just nest the spoilers. Actually, can you do that?

perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

From his vantage point, Dredd gets a slightly better look at the exchange. He notes, Not only is the woman a pickpocket, but she is really, really clumsy. Either this chick is stoned out of her mind, or she is some sort of novice footpad working in a low-rung second-rate backwash gang, because clearly, someone who actually knows what they are doing wouldn't try to swipe creds from a C-Sec Officer and a heavily armed Krogan. That's just downright stupid... I might add suicidal, but I really don't think we need another mess to add to this case. I'm guessing the sergeant would be pretty pissed if I did.

Fortunately it seems Serona spotted her first. All the better for it, Dredd probably would have made a bungle of any sort of persuasion. Normally persuasion for Dredd involves a shotgun.

...Still, Dredd pulls out his shotgun just to be safe. Might help convince the thief that this really isn't worth it.

"Officer Dredd, I'm going to need this Casey's location. We'll be bringing some bad news, but someone needs to tell her. We also need to know more about this whole situation, and she might be our way in. I suppose you have a right to come along, as the victim was your contact. Even so, I have a feeling I should be the one to break the news."

"Fine with me," says Dredd, in a resigned tone, "PR was never my strong suit, but I suppose someone's gotta tell her. I suppose I'll come along."p

Dredd clearly dislikes the idea of having to be the bearer of bad news, but not so much because of the bad news. Mostly he just dislikes being the bearer of any news. He knows people don't take kindly to "friendly visits" from Krogan, and really he doesn't like having to deal with people who aren't trying to shoot him. Makes things much more complicated and tactful, something he is rather lacking in - Tact that is.

Dredd pulls up the list of contacts Varnoc recovered from the victim's omni-tool and scans through it. Finding the entry marked Casey he pulls up her contact information and sends the info to Serona's omni tool.

"Aron Jeem," Big Red replies, pulling up Varnoc's notes on his Omni-tool and scanning over them quickly. "Duct-rat, city-scum. Worked as a ferret for the Blue Suns and other smaller mercenary and criminal groups before he wound up on the wrong side of the law. 'Least that's how I got to know him."

Dredd looks over at the body and sniffs. No expression crosses his face. It's difficult to tell if he feels any sense of remorse. Perhaps the only thing he feels is disgust. Disgust at having yet another civilian turn up in a gutter. Either way it's a sight Red is used to.

"I was the officer that busted his ass out of Chora's den back when Fist was still in operation's there. I knew Fist was no good, but C-Sec couldn't do anything about it openly without risking civilian casualties. Pity. Would have liked to have been there when he finally did get canned. That lucky bastard, Wrex." Dredd's eyes seem to glaze over a bit as he recalls the memory. "But Jeem was a smart kid, I could tell that just by looking at him. He offered to exchange the names of some of Fist's top men in exchange for me not locking him up. So I did. Turns out his info was good, so after we impounded Fist's goons I offered to hire Jeem as an informant. He kept me supplied with names and operation details for almost a year. Busted a lot of scum thanks to him." Dredd gives a nod to the corpse and then turns back to face Sargent Alatil directly.

"He was buying his way out of the criminal world with the work he did for me." Dredd continues, now more hurried, trying to get to his point, "Wanted to settle down with his girl, Casey, buy a house somewhere in the upper wards, clear his name for good. Trouble is, I think he started drawing attention towards himself at the end. Started going after bigger fish. I told him to get his nose out while he could, but he kept saying 'one more job, Red, I just need one more job.' Damn fool. Last I heard he thought he was getting close to uncovering a red sand dealer. And now, well, here we are..."

Red looks back at the corpse and shakes his head, "What a damn mess." he grunts.

Urdnot Dredd, or "Big Red" as the locals call him, receives the call from C-Sec Command with a grimace. One of his informants has just turned up on the Presidium, face down in a pool of his own blood. Blasted fools keep getting themselves into more trouble than they can handle, he muses to himself, though his mood is serious. Good informants are hard to come by. Jeem wasn't the best, but Dredd liked him. He had a certain daring that Dredd thought would likely get him killed. Guess I was right about that...

Fozali brings the car around a moment later and the two of them make their way from the lower Zakera wards to the Presidium. Traffic is slow and the tedious pace they are reduced to begins to gnaw on Dredd's nerves. He had always felt uncomfortable sitting in a car: he felt to exposed. Having spent years in the Blood Pack mercenary company he had been in all sorts of war zones and seen all sorts of things go wrong, including watching landing craft being shot down out of the sky. He'd even been in a few. He felt agitated, and his unease was only growing with their slow pace.

To distract himself, Dredd checks over his shotgun, playing with the folding stock, checking to make sure it's loaded with a fresh thermal clip, cleaning the muzzle with an oil rag. He flicks the safety off and listens to it whine as the mass accelerators charge up. He glances over at Fozali driving the car. The Salarian doesn't even flinch. It's been good having a partner like Issi, the big Krogan thinks to himself. Not a lot of Salarians like him, by which he actually means "not a lot of Salarians whose guts I don't hate.

Finally they arrive at the crime scene. Dredd steps out of the car and the turbo lifters recoil at the sudden change in carried weight. A crowd has gathered, and that is something Dredd doesn't like. Dealing with civvies has never been one of his fortés. "I hate Mondays," he grumbles to himself and then slams the car door shut.

Big Red lopes towards the crowd, his heavy footsteps cause a few heads to turn as he approaches. Those that do balk at the sight of him. He stands over 7 feet tall but would be even taller if his race had been blessed with a properly upright spine. His crown boasts a massive red plate, indicative of the older, more matured males of his race. This stands rather in contrast to the blues of the Citadel Security armor he wears. Most people are intimated by Krogans, their brutish reputation preceding them. And while Dredd is a bit of an exception, having taken it upon himself to become a guardian of the peace, he is no less intimidating than any of the others of his race... or perhaps even a bit more so. "All right people make room, you got a Krogan coming through," he growls. He keeps his shotgun checked in front of him so people can see it. The crowd of onlookers only to eagerly parts before him.

As soon as he clears the press he spots the two other agents on site, Officer Varnoc and Sargent Alatil. Dredd consults his omnitool briefly to remember who is who, then approaches the Asari. "Sargent Alatil," Dredd's voice is gruff as he speaks directly, conjuring all the formality he possesses into quick nod, "Urdnot Dredd and Fozali Issi, reporting for duty."

Disclaimer: This post contains what may be considered both the best and worst idea ever. You have been warned.

"The heavy melee functions on the new omni tools we received are amazing! I can put my fist in some guy's face and watch it explode! Ha ha, Great! OH! But what if I could do that while charging from across the room? Huh? HUH? C'mon, would that be awesome or what? The full glory of a raging Krogan flying across the room to put down the thieving vagabond, Captain Falcon Style! What say we make that a new talent, huh GM?"

"Where's the Ryncol?! They told me this place would be EXPLODING!"

"Ever seen a Krogan air drop? HrrrrRRRAAAAA ha ha ha!"