Well, that's a shame, but thanks for letting us know.
Search Posts
Yeah, it is one of those little differences that I like but tripped me up at first. Just wanted to bring it up for the others since this is the first time I noticed it come up in this game.
Speaking of charges, I just found out one of the different mechanics in Starfinder is that you take a -2 penalty to AC and Attacks when charging without a numerical benefit apart from being able to move twice your speed at a target when you've got a straight line to them. Soldiers and Solarions both have options that alter this, though.
Catches himself and looks down, seeing the sizzling cut through his clothes. "You ming doing another one, turned about ninety degrees and a little shorter? I've got a thing." Then his knife licked out across the outside arm of the captain.
No worries there boss, we’ve all been in something like that state at some point. Just take care of yourself.
By the by, I picked up the Armory book so our next shopping trip might get a bit wild.
"Get everyone inside the cockpit and vent atmo from the rest of the ship!" Cross ordered, taking cover in one of the doorways. He snapped off another shot from his pulsecaster at the pirate goon.
Cross nodded and stepped out of the doorway. He raised the pulsecaster and fired the unassuming little pistol at the back of the captain. He could be a distraction.
Cross waits for the pirates to step passed him and slips into the hallway behind them. "We've got two in the hall here. The captain of this tin can and a single goon. There's at least one more in the cockpit. Give them something to focus on and I'll hit them from behind," Cross thinks to the others.
Cross slips down into the stairwell and holds still.
Cross moves ahead without hesitation, trying to exploit every minute he could. He was tempted to start cutting throats but the last thing he wanted to cultivate in his associates was a healthy sense of distrust in him. That way when it was really important he could act freely.
"Get ready with that jammer," Cross said as he looked over the lock. He smacked the butt of his knife down on the housing a few times, then jammed the blade into the housing and pried it away. Stripping some wires with practiced speed, he twisted them together in an ugly little knot and hoped this old bypass trick still worked.
"Sure, then we hand them over to the cores they've been pissing on," Cross said, switching out his analog piece for his pulsecaster pistol. By his tone of voice it was clear that he had no illusions about what the cores might do with a bunch of captured pirates.
"See if you can delay the jump to Drift," Cross said as he moved to examine the door's mechanisms. He could try to bypass the lock himself but it would be better to let one of their two techies take a look at it first.
Cross stops at the sight of the engineer... Empathy:
Cross is angry. Really, really angry. This flash might be the most intense emotion you've felt off him and the only true moment of anger as well. General annoyance is far more common. His intent is clearly to kill this engineer and move on, carving his way through the rest of the pirates until none were left.
Then, with impressive control, he reins the anger in and leashes it. Turning it into something useful and under his thumb. ...then bounds forward, his feet landing in eerie silence before swinging his knife. Only at the last second is it clear that he was lashing out with the butt of the knife and not the blade, aiming to slam the thing into the engineer's temple. No doubt being concussed into unconsciousness would be unpleasant and have consequences but it was far better than everything else Cross might have done.
"Right, you guys keep behind me, I'll wave you up after checking each room," Cross ordered as his knife appeared in his other hand. "When we find a terminal, see about spoofing some kind of engine problem to stop the spin-up to drift." He rolled his shoulders, having been wearing his same jacket and jeans even in the void of space. The core was not wielding the pulsecaster he had lifted from the psuedo-feds back on Earth. A willingness to take life was one of the few things he was not shy about advertising. "Right, let's see what you four can do," Cross said, setting off without a backwards glance.
Cross anchored himself beside the airlock and performed a quick headcount to make sure that none of his wayward ducklings of a squad had quietly drifted off into the void. Satisfied, he drew his pistol and waited for Jin to work his magic.
Cross begins picking his course across the ship's hull, moving like a spider and either keeping both hands or a hand and a foot looped or hooked around anchoring points. While he could have probably put considerable distance between him and the others with how confidently he was moving, Cross kept stopping to check and make sure the microgravity newbies were following the course he set.
Seeing everyone ready to his satisfaction, Cross nods and cracks the shipping container doors. Anchoring himself, he looks to the others before opening the container. "When we're out there, do exactly as I do. Mal, Em, you two stay right behind me. Jin, follow them and keep a hand ready for each. Once inside, hold off on triggering the scrambler until we're made. I don't want to tip out hand too early. Don't worry about keeping track of me, I'll be skirmishing where I can." With that, he pushed the container doors open a touch and checked for the other ship before opening the doors the rest of the way.
Cross is patient inside the cargo container, floating with his usual inhuman stillness. Microgravity was something he was used to and so was impending violence. He might not have a proper body any longer, but there were advantages to his simple humanoid chassis. He waited as the pirate truck to started up the engines and began moving away from the station until he estimated they were a safe distance away. Tapping each member of the infiltration team on the shoulder, he pointed towards the hatch and kicked off towards it, preparing to lead the others out into the hard vacuum of space. They might have had a local network set up using their telepath but he still did not much care for using it if he did not have to.
"As good as any," Cross said, his shape settling again. "Diesel, see about fabbing up some faraday rigs for any cores brave enough to join us on this. We also need a good place to stash the Argintum where she'll have a low enough sensor profile to be overlooked. Anyone have anything else?"
"You mean between ships? We can turn the scrambler off once we have pacified our target or if something goes wrong enough that we need to contact you."
Cross's avatar visibly bristled in agitation, the tiny shards the made up his virtual form shifting to point sharp edges out. He did not like what he was about to suggest. "We have tele-whatsits, right? We can bring one along, I'll even let them into my head."
I have no other adjustments, though Cross makes a point to make good on his promise to K-Van and shows the boy the inside of a core mining operation, under a careful eye. It is also a good opportunity to teach him to control his panic responses a little.
"You're also the only other pilot we have as far as I know," Cross noted.
We've got Rollo on hand.
"Then Maldor's got something like the best plan but we need to keep the Argintum out of sensor range and hit them when they're well away from the mining facility. If we hijack their hauler and focus both the hauler and Argintum on the gunship, we might stand a chance."
"Not going to be just one person. If I can pull some light sabotage to keep their ships helpless while I transmit their location to you guys. You come to save me before they crack me open and decorate the prow of their ships with my guts. Simple."
"Because they've got two ships and an unknown number of buddies. We hit one, they open up with the other and maybe fire on the cores for good measure. You know about small-unit tactics and operations with support," Cross said, "I know about thinking like a bastard. Put me in with the next shipment of ore."
Here is what Cross is about to propose. Pack him into a hollowed out chunk of ore and sneak him on to the shipment. When the ship docks, he slips out and transmits the location to the others and then sets about sabotaging the ships and taking out whatever systems he can on the station while remaining mostly hidden until his reinforcements arrive. IF we go with this plan, for the sake of everyone's patience, I'd like to do it as a series of d20 rolls first to make the solo excursion as quick as possible. I'll write up a post explaining his plan in character once I'm off from work this evening.
Did you at least get a good meal on the company dime?
"A couple of ways. We could try and hide a transmitter in the next batch of ore but that might be noticed by a security sweep. We could try to trail them after their next pick-up but if we have them on our sensors, they can probably see us too." The front of Cross's face wrinkled in such a way as to suggest he was frowning in thought. "Or we could split the difference and I could take another risk."
"How long before the home office loses patience with you all and starts icing people?"
"Back in the day, yeah, a hit with an EMP could reliably fry a good part of a ship's systems. Hardening, shielding, and countermeasures have gotten better. We'd be lucky to take the weapons systems entirely offline. We'd need to hijack one of the ships and hammer the other with the EMP cannon before they bring the shields online all before they responded."
"Right," Cross said, the shards that made up his form bristling as he thought the problem through. "Here's what I'm thinking. They know what they're doing. Return on investment for mass quantities of raw ore is minuscule so they've either got their own refinery set up somewhere or have a contract with an independent in this belt. They find a core operation, shake it down until that operation's home office gets cranky over the lack of product and puts the cores on ice. They move on to the next target. They know indentured cores can't really move against them and the local authorities are unlikely to step in." Cross folded his arms. "Had a few bands try to run this scheme on my posting. We were out on the edge and not as closely scrutinized. The pirates got the picture after we hacked one of their ship's systems and spaced a crew."
"They independent contractors or owned by someone?"
"You do any refining on site or do you guys ship out unprocessed ore?" Cross asked, not wasting time with being angry. It was good to deal with another core again. His fellows tended to be very goal oriented and quick to come to consensuses. Anything else might spell disaster out in deep space.
Cross's holographic avatar spared a glance toward Emily and the browline quirked lightly at her comment before turning his attention back to Diesel. "Despite my objections, yes. Like I said, democracy." He pulled his legs up to sit crosslegged in mid air, resting his hands on his knees and studied the other core. "We're not exactly crack pirate hunters but we're not helpless either. Why don't you give us a run down?" Empathy: Cross is far more relaxed dealing with Diesel in this way. He is far more open and willing to freely communicate. Letting the others see his avatar is... he does not resent it but it does feel awkward to him.
On the approach, Cross ran the others through some basics about dealing with cores. Mostly it boiled down to a few simple things, "Don't treat them like charity cases, don't expect to deal with them in physical space, and don't ask how old anyone is. You'll just end up depressing yourself." Once the hardline connection was established between the ship and the local datasphere and Diesel made their first introduction, Cross decided to be polite. Another hologram coalesced into the room across from Diesel. Shards of what looked like glass in blues, greens, and purples appeared and assembled themselves into a humanoid shape that lacked distinctive details. Going by body language, it was obviously Cross. This time, however, there was the suggestion of a t-shape in the otherwise blank expanse of the face that roughly corresponded to a nose and brows. The lines shifted slightly, making his expressions far clearer. "I'm Cross," the figure said, in Cross's voice, "Pilot for the Argintum. The previous owner is on a bit of a democracy kick at the moment or I'd introduce them as the captain." As he spoke, the visualization of a small data packet flew across the space between the two holograms, containing a more thorough introduction for Cross and the public specs of the ship. "I'll let the others introduce themselves."
Cross laid in a leisurely route out to Diesel's mining operation. He would probably need to brief the others on what to expect when meeting an enclave of cores for the first time. There were some easy missteps outsiders could make in such an independent and insular community and there were behaviors that made sense to cores that were almost alien to full organics. Leaning back in the pilot's chair, his thoughts naturally turned back toward the last time he had been back among his 'own kind' as some would phrase it. The truth of the matter was perhaps too uncomfortable for most to grasp. Cores might have been forced into an inhuman existence but they were still very fundamentally human. Perhaps even more so than baseline humans. Sentient species could be said to be defined by an ability to understand and manipulate the environment around them. Cores took that capability and applied it to their own form. If a body was not suited to a problem, they switched bodies. Not that keeping a range of chassis was cheap, mind you.
Cross is double-checking the seals on K-Van's suit. Commercial manufacturers have done an excellent job making space suits more intuitive to use but Cross knew better than to take things on faith. "Alright kid, whenever the ship gets into a tight spot, I want you in this suit. That's even before helping anyone else. You can't help anyone if your blood is squirting out your ears, yeah? And don't worry about me, I can take a bit of hard vac. Now take it off and put it on three more times and you can come out to meet Diesel with us. I think you'll like it."
While the others get their cargo sorted, Cross sets about getting Kev kitted up for shipboard life. Taking him onto the station, he set about getting the kid a few changes of clothes and a space suit that was purpose made for travelers that might still have some growing to do. Reaching back into the dim mists of his memory, he remembered being dirty and often stinky as a fully human child and picked up a full set of toiletries as well. The shopping done, and K-Van looking less like a complete ragamuffin, Cross returned, ready to head out.
Cross is more concerned over potential security leaks. He can manage himself and his discomfort just fine, but we've got three people on board that might accidentally reveal they are wanted fugitives or that they are not exactly normal. Also, shopping list for K-Van:
I’d be fine with that Also, Cross is going to take K-Van out to buy some essentials. It’s just clothing, toiletries and the like, I’ll compose a list when I’m off work.
Oh that, I thought you meant my most recent post. All I can say is that you should consider Cross’s reactions to attempts at empathy thus far. Also Cross has exactly zero qualms about smuggling guns.
Which part? I wasn't trying to be particularly sarcastic if that helps. Also voting no passengers, that is just asking for the sort of trouble Cross is bad at handling.
|