Operative Ambrose's page

Guns don't jam the way they did in pathfinder, but they are total and complete misses.

Misses and hits

Ambrose shakes his guns and backpedals out of the room, shooting again. "Whoohoo!" he gloats.

attack EAC: 1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (14) + 5 - 3 = 16
Energy Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4
attack EAC: 1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (20) + 5 - 3 = 22
crit energy damage: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 5) = 7 AND the next closest enemy to that one get zapped for 2 energy damage because of the Arc critical hit property of the pistols!

Ambrose raises his weapons and pulls the triggers.

1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (1) + 5 - 3 = 3
1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (1) + 5 - 3 = 3
Holy S*#@.

Something's afoot at the circle k...

Ambrose waits, his weapons lowered but not put away.

Ambrose pads into the room, looking around.

Are the crew actually Alive? Or do they look... funky?
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

Ambrose takes a second to reload before raising his guns again. "That was fun." he says amiably.

Ambrose continues his assault, trying to blast down whatever remains.

"You know what'd be cool right now? A grenade!" Ambrose calls out.
1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (10) + 5 - 3 = 12
1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (17) + 5 - 3 = 19
Energy damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Ambrose continues firing into the cluster of tentacles.
"Whoohooooooo!" he shouts as he moves about his immediate vicinity, flowing with the two pistols in his own style of multi-weapon fighting.

Attack: 1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (18) + 5 - 3 = 20
energy damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1
Attack: 1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (13) + 5 - 3 = 15
energy damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Ambrose hoots and somersaults over one flailing tentacle before tumbling under another, delivering a shot right when one was slowing down to change direction.

Trick Attack: Acrobatics: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22
Hey, that might do it.
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Trick Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2

Ambrose levels his static arc pistols at the targets and lets loose a pair of shots.

I have multiweapon fighting which reduces the penalty for full attacking with multiple weapons by 1.

SAP #1 vs EAC: 1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (14) + 5 - 3 = 16
Energy Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4
SAC #2 vs EAC: 1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (6) + 5 - 3 = 8

"Heehee!" Ambrose cackles toothily as he zaps at his first target.

You're right, I'm just here. doing nothing. eating the food...

"I've never fought a tentacle monster before!" Ambrose exclaims happily, raising his guns. "Finally something interesting to do!"

Gonna wait for my turn, since it seems the tentacles go before me.

[ooc] Ooooh. I misunderstood.[/b]

"Well something opened up the crate full of MRE's. So it's probably not a mushroom."

He clucks his tongue. "It's kinda like, taking over the engines."

"I've got a knife?" Ambrose offers. "It'll be messy, but it'll get the job done."

Crud. We should have checked to see if the shuttle had said Weyland-Utani on the side. :P

"It looks like some kind of biological product. Maybe some kind of nesting material?" Ambrose proposes, drawing his energy pistols. "I don't suggest using slugthrowers in the shuttle, you could cause a breach."

Does the damage look recent? Edit: adding in the perception roll.
Perception vs DC 15: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

As a precaution, Ambrose will close his suit's environmental seals and go to his independent air supply. He looks at the others. "I wouldn't trust it. Might be glitched like that drone."

He puts his hands on his toolkits, ready for someone to open the door.

Ambrose's face goes wide-eyed for a second before he lets out a snort of laughter. "Oh that's hilarious!" he chortles. "I get it!"

Ambrose just likes being where the action is. Though he's surprisingly amicable.

Their ship first. At least its my suggestion.

Ambrose will follow kit to keep them safe.

"What did you find?" he asks. "Why is there food everywhere?"
After staring at some of the rations, he cracks one open and starts munching. He will eat about four unless someone tells him to stop.

Ambrose nods. "Okiedoke... The comm code is in the file, so please contact me with the results." he says, walking away from the bots.

He will click his communicator on. <All right, they didn't shoot me, so... we should just try to play it their way for now? I think we should go check on the crew while we're a-waiting. Also, Bronen, did you see anything wrong with their communication's equipment as we flew in? I don't have any problems on our short range comms so I don't think it's a jammer of any sort.>

He'll walk away from the security station until he gets out of sight. "Computer, what is the status of your long-range transmitters?"

I think if more than one player is taking it 'the wrong way', maybe a clarification is necessary, out of character. It would help the game go in the direction you're hoping it would, smooth over misunderstandings or confusion, and have less of the players focusing on the things you've currently placed in front of them to deal with, I.E. politely rude/strangely incompetent computer systems, which I think is what is tipping a lot of us in the 'oh great the station AI went bonkers and killed everyone' direction. It seems everyone's already considering anything that's not us to be hostile right now and if that's not the atmosphere we're supposed to grok then please let us know.

I admit that the loader bot that went crazy probably should have been physically checked over by the tech characters, but I'm not playing one and Ambrose would not have thought to do that.

Activity-wise, I check repeatedly, obsessively even. However, I don't act when I should not be participating. I'll have a post up in a few minutes since there's something I can respond to.

That doesn't mean you can't hit someone, it's just one range increment past the first. Meaning he can shoot just fine with a -2 and that's it. Just like in pathfinder. And, I don't know how drones are repaired. I'd probably need to look at the mechanic section again.

Ambrose stops, pulling out his pad and holding out his 'credentials' as they have been issued to him by the fleet (using the hand with the wristband on it). He tries to hold it out to the drone, showing it to whatever visible sensors he can see. "Sure thing, sent by Command to check on the station and the security issue." he says, blinking as he keeps an eye on the both of them. "So what's the protocol for when the station is breached? Because we haven't received any reports of station damage and I'm sad to say that giant piece of foreign matter is not standard station construction."

BECAUSE this mission seems intent on being the biggest dick to us on this side of the galaxy, Ambrose is ready to move in case they try any violent action towards him. Seriously, if this is the fleet's idea of 'good' artificial intelligence, then we have to consider the fact that we may be the 'bad guys' of the galaxy. They're being as user-unfriendly as you can get without just shooting at people on sight.

"Hallo, officers!" Ambrose says, cheerily tottering up to the door. He swipes his wristband across the apparent receiver. "Am I cleared to enter the facility?"

Security Station. Would be good to have eyes on everything.

Ambrose sighs and puts his guns away. "Well let's get going." he says.

It's not paranoia if they're actually out to get you.

"Tigers? Cool!" Ambrose pipes in. "I like tigers. So fuzzy and lazy."

Link to AoO rules

Also there are no negative hit points. Instead he just loses 1 resolve at the end of his turn each turn he's dying until he stabilized.

GUYS. THERE ARE NO NEGATIVE HIT POINTS IN STARFINDER.

"Inquiry response: Colloquialism, see diety: Gorum." Ambrose replies. "Thank you. Does the station have any security logs recording at the time of the breach?"

"No. We do not wish to exit the station. For such a 'smart' A.I. assistant you can't seem to read intent." Ambrose replies, finally getting irritated. "You're being intentionally obtuse and difficult to work with and this means that even if you do eject us from the station we will have to report you being the cause of the station's loss of communication and then the fleet will dismantle you. Permanently." He spins the weapons in his hands. "I'm considering requesting that happen even if it isn't your fault. So either shape up or shut down and let us do our gorramn jobs."

Ambrose will draw his four guns and wait till the elevator doors open, thumbing off the safeties.

<Bot's gone rogue? Easily Fixed.> He mutters into the comlink.

Hey, so other than Sigma, were there supposed to be other occupants of this huge station?

Ambrose will skitter into the elevator and prop himself up in a corner. "Well let's go. I guess."

Ambrose takes the wristband, and closes it around one of his wrists. Not that it was that hard to slip out of if he wanted.

"Yeah. Let's go." he says.

Ambrose wears his Graphite Carbon Skin Armor, a small tactical pack on his lower back containing his ammo, batteries, and healing serums, the two arc pistols on holsters strapped to his upper back. At his hips are the two slugthrower pistols changed to look like toolkits. He has a comm unit in his ear, and a survival knife in a scabbard wedged between arc pistol holsters and his tactical pack. He isn't wearing any civilian clothing over the gear, but the armor does have the fleet insignia and id codes embossed on it.

Ambrose gives all four of his guns a twirl before nodding. "Ready and waiting." he says, holstering them again. The Two slugthrowers change to look like toolkits on his belt, but the arc pistols remain weapons.

Dunno how glamoured weapon infusion works with security scans.

We have a Small and Large pilot, this is funny. Just have Ambrose sit in Vults lap as Vult mans a gun turret with his 10ft reach. lmao

From there he keeps things steady as they go. "I can take a walk and board the Sigma from the outside. Maybe undock so we can investigate." He pulls out a small pouch and opens it. Pulling out a small comm device. "I requested some short range comm-devices for the mission. Just in case we get separated or need to spread out. I took the liberty of specing them out based on size, one for each of you." He takes his personal comm and places it inside his second skin.

We're gonna figure something out or the seat's hydraulics are gonna wear out before we even get home. @_@

Ambrose clambers up to the viewport and looks over the station. "If you're gonna flyby, I'll just let myself out!" he says, grinning wildly as he plugs the commlink into his ear and deploys his armor's helmet. "I'll just jet over to an airlock and get it set up for us." he clears his throat, testing the comm's transmission. "We shouldn't dock directly anyways, in case there's a bioweapon or something."

The player might also have played way too much Dead Space...

Were we going to need me to pilot, or for this part of the mission we're being flown by a fleet pilot? I'm totally okay with doing the flying if people need. Ambrose just needs a booster seat. :P

Ambrose looks at the pod and tilts his head. "Hehehehe... It looks like a breaching ship, just, y'know, bigger than the normal ones." he observes. "Usually only big enough to fit a squad of troops in or some kind of drones, but that's... reaaaally big."

Ambrose will wonder if there's anything interesting to do at this point, but just waits to see if the station is operational.

Ambrose will spend the time watching holos, trying to build a model starship using disposable materials (like paper plates), and being very chatty with the group. He doesn't exactly get *annoying* but he's amazingly noisy for someone who's supposedly an infiltrator.

I'm ready!
---
Ambrose will use the flight to install the jump jets into his armor and he does not hesitate to show it off to the rest of the team. It's also noticed that the two belt-pouches on his hips are actually his pistols, which he kept glamoured. The two arc pistols are holstered on his back where his top arms can reach.

Operative Ambrose wrote:

Considering my character's racial tendencies, Ambrose was positively ah-stoundingly disciplined, to put it in a Drill Sergeant's terms.

Their species was so lax about authority (not disrespecting but rather just not understanding) that the Vesk conquered their planet by landing on it, walking up to the largest community of Skittermander, and saying "Hey, we conquered your planet."

They said "Okay." and then went back to their lives. This was very confusing (and frustrating) to the Vesk because they were conquerors and the Skittermander were actually helpful to them whenever they made requests. Honor wouldn't let them just attack a species that not only never resisted, but actively gave them what they wanted.

That said, I look forward to later on when I proved myself before I go galavanting around. I hope this mission gives me such a chance.

Oh! I know you said we could requisition stuff, but please let me know what I get.

I love the Skittermander, but i wanted to be a dragon kin more hahah. Obviously. XD at least some of you are carryable in the event of being knocked unconcious.

And I fit in most overhead storage compartments in case the flight's overbooked! :p

Considering my character's racial tendencies, Ambrose was positively ah-stoundingly disciplined, to put it in a Drill Sergeant's terms.

Their species was so lax about authority (not disrespecting but rather just not understanding) that the Vesk conquered their planet by landing on it, walking up to the largest community of Skittermander, and saying "Hey, we conquered your planet."

They said "Okay." and then went back to their lives. This was very confusing (and frustrating) to the Vesk because they were conquerors and the Skittermander were actually helpful to them whenever they made requests. Honor wouldn't let them just attack a species that not only never resisted, but actively gave them what they wanted.

That said, I look forward to later on when I proved myself before I go galavanting around. I hope this mission gives me such a chance.

Oh! I know you said we could requisition stuff, but please let me know what I get.

Ambrose amuses himself on the way to the hangar bay, doing cartwheels and somersaults as easily as some people walk. He chatters the whole way, but nothing is relevant, nor even mildly important.

---
Requisitioning: 4 batteries, 2 static arc pistols, 2-6 healing serums, and a jump jet armor modification for zero-g mobility.

"Hey who are you calling smoothskin?" Ambrose snaps. "I am cute and fuzzy!"

Ambrose, you can upload your own avatar.

How? I thought you could only select what they had on the site.

I have +10 Piloting and can handle that role easily. Ambrose is being specifically fuzzy (heh, get it?) about his rank because I was going to allow the GM to actually set it for me so that it fits alongside the group.

I mean, besides the fact that rank seems to go out the window when it comes to surviving against terrible odds. :P

"I am an infiltration specialist and saboteur." Ambrose replies to the request for specialization. "Also, really good at sowing chaos inside of enemy lines."

----
Ambrose makes the attempt to stand at attention, but, like his attention span, it starts to dwindle as the briefing progresses and only shapes up when the captain actually looks at him. Skittermander are known for being biologically and culturally incapable of understanding someone being in charge permanently, so it's a small wonder he hasn't wandered off in the 3 years he's been working with the fleet.

He's got his way of handling it, and being on long missions makes having to work with a single person seem task-specific, which alleviates the matter, for GM knowledge. He's perfectly capable of taking orders from who he perceives to be in-charge (at the moment),
and he also recognizes who/what faction he is allied with, so no worries about him getting talked into working for an enemy.

Ambrose raises a few hands. "Ma'am?" he asks. "Have there been any sightings of enemy factions or pirates around Kask before this incident? What size of a colony are we expecting to find there? Will there be food? Will we be issued any biological containment equipment? Do we have authorization to engage hostiles or is this strictly an observe and report mission?"

Ambrose grins. "Lance-Corporal Vyun? Got it. I... uh... don't have an official rank... well, that I can remember. I think they said something about a petty officer?"

To kit, he shrugs. "I'm Skittermander. We're all this awesome, but I have the best colors. Six arms are great! You should get some!"

The same thing as when figuring out his rank, he scratches his head. "I uh... guess I've been here for, like, 3 years?" he shrugs again. "I've been going on fun missions for a long time though, so I don't remember exactly when I started actually working for the fleet."

Ambrose is a tiny figure, easily noticed because of his bright orange fur coloration and black carbon skin armor. he had six little arms and two short legs, giving him the overall appearance of an adorable fuzzy spider the size of a human toddler, except that he only has two eyes and a big mouth with short kinda pointy teeth.

"Well, hello everyone!" Ambrose says, his voice somewhat squeaky but deep. "My name is Ambrose. Nice'ta meetcha!"

I am here