I think I'll bow this one out, on second thought.
Thank you everyone for including me. Good luck with those space goblins, all!
Search Posts
GM, can I continue to play this for no credit? If so, I'll be happy to continue. (I earned credit for this at a little event recently typed up by Tonya W....) Now we return to your regularly-scheduled programme...
Since starting this, I was asked to play in this game at a convention IRL. I’d be happy to drop out at this point if someone else were interested.
"Full evasive manoeuvres, captain," Iseph replies from the helm. This is my element; I know the sky, I own the sky.
Iseph engages the complex mathematical operation to evade the tractor beam and activates the thrusters with alacrity.
Iseph cocks his head at the friction on the engines from the traction beam. ”I might be able to break free from their attempt at anchoring us if your scans could tell us something about it, Keskodai,” the android suggests. I might be able to break the entrapment even if your scanners cannot tell us anything.
Interesting, Iseph considers as he pilots the ship to the port side of the right-most goblin junk-heap.
I’ll be travelling for the next 2 days; my posts will be spotty. Bot me as needed, thanks.
I'm on my mobile phone as I'm away for work. When I click on the GM Bugman link above, I get no map. I get explanations of the phases of ship combat and a few other documents, but I see no map. I'll be back home in 2 days. If you need to bot me, go ahead.
Iseph punches in a few buttons to maneuver the ship in a skilful fashion.
Iseph feels a jolt of anticipation, and the blue light pulsing under th surface of his skin pulses brightly.
Iseph perks up for the first time in awhile, aborting the hard drive defragmentation on his tactical hard drive that he had begun. "A powerful tractor beam to outrun that somehow has aligned itself with space goblins? That is curious. And a heretofore undescribed spaceship of no known model or make to troubleshoot? Altronus, I must disagree with your initial assessment." Iseph focuses on the ysoki known as Livewire. "Did you receive any energy read-outs from the tractor beam or the signal from the planetoids that matched those of the goblin junkers before you crashed? It would be good to know if it were goblin in origin as well, or something different."
Iseph remains silent. Others are better at diplomatic issues. This ysoki seems pathetic and compliant. A shiver goes through the pilot. She is in a bad place. Best not to say anything, though. Empathy is not always equally returned.
Iseph silently engages his internal cooling system so as to combat some of the environmental issues.
"I am originally from Aballon," Iseph speaks. "It was there that I was formally brought into being per my own research. I was awakened with instructions and an operative direction, but I found the instructions to not be conducive to continued life as it were on Aballon and so I relocated myself to the Diaspora. There I found employment opportunities for someone such as myself with my skill set. I excel at operating vehicles of all shapes and sizes, and I have had a number of opportunities to demonstrate these skills satisfactorily for employers." Iseph's circuitry fades for a moment before pulsing again. "It was unfortunate that my former employer and I could not come to a logical conclusion with respect to the shared outcome of a joint programme, and so I left their employ. I had heard of further employment opportunities closer to the centre of the star system, and in doing so came across this very employment opportunity. I do not engage in investigations myself, for if I did, I would have no need to make use of the information gathered through various employers in order to discover more about my origin. That is a limitation of my system." "Nevertheless, if you are interested in hearing of a specific encounter that tested the abilities of my former team, I can tell you of the garaggakal that we encountered orbiting the Diasporan mining collective Cluster-Theta." Iseph's head jerks to the side in an odd non-organic movement. "Correction. I can tell you of the unclassified parts of that encounter."
"Toiletries and weapons are contraband but credsticks are encouraged in order to make 'donations'." Iseph expertly pilots the ship onto the prescribed landing bay. "A literal translation of that could be: 'Bring nothing to make yourself feel more comfortable or to defend yourself with, but please be sure to bring all of your money.'" The android sighs. He takes off both of his guns and leaves them at his pilot station. GM: Iseph will place his survival knife in the quick-release sheath (armour upgrade) of his armour, along with his credstick.
Iseph awaits at the controls of the ship, ready to take evasive actions at a moment's notice lest this conversation turn for the worst.
Iseph awaits Navasi's reply, curious to see the new captain in action.
"I have come functionally competent for embarkment at the present hour," Iseph explains, "but determining how best that I will pilot this ship will pass time that ought not to be wasted." Iseph stows their bag in one of the bunks and finds their way to the cockpit, where they settle into the lead pilot position. "I hope this Livewire provides accurate reconnaissance information regarding this 'Salvation's End'," Iseph says to no one in particular.
Reduce the DCs of Culture checks by 5 when recalling knowledge about starship and vehicle models and parts as well as famous hotshot pilots)
Iseph glances briefly at the latest kasatha to join the group. Brothers, eh? Twins, even. Curious, that organics seem to have the capacity for cloning and yet view android life cycles with suspicion and trepidation. Iseph spins his wheels calculating odds ratios of twin embryogenesis in various organic species while he awaits the Starfinder's explanation of their illogical choice of vehicles for a stealth mission where the Starfinder name should be obfuscated, but the Starfinder logo can be emblazoned on the ship without concern for repudiation.
For once, Iseph did not feel the need to point out the flawed logic inherent to the situation.
Iseph cocks their head. "We are to provide credits as an enticement to a prisoner within a penal compound? I do not see the logic in why this particular prisoner would be interested in credits. Would they not be interested in freedom from their penal lifestyle?" They cock their head in a different direction. "You mentioned salt and a fresh wound. Am I to assume that the Starfinder Society wronged this warden? This Livewire person? Whose ego is to be buffered in this outcome - your syntax was poorly-constructed and did not clearly convey your meaning." Humanoids can be needlessly obfuscatory, Iseph reflected.
“This is where you come in. I want you to go to Salvation’s End and explore the surface. First, you’ll need to make a quick trip to the moon of Varos, which orbits the nearby gas giant, Bretheda. There’s a high-level security complex on Varos that has a survivor from a rogue prospecting mission to Salvation’s End. I want you to question the prisoner, find out what you can about the so-called ‘false moon,’ and then make way to Salvation’s End. Once there, you will need to see if the moon is worthless, or something valuable enough for the Society to announce. Understood?” The pale-blue circuitry in their face flashed briefly as Iseph replayed the entire conversation as recorded back from their memory module to be sure they didn't miss anything. Iseph blinked at the dark-sinned human female as a means of registering their gaze. "Confirmed comprehension. Is the Starfinder Society providing a ship as well as credits?" Iseph remained silent as the other human female asked questions, registering the level of mistrust noted in her voice. To pass the time, Iseph reviewed what they knew of the Starfinder Society from their internal files as a means of calculating a probability of being deceived by them. As a comparison, Iseph attempted to calculate the same probability by the physical appearances of his fellow mercenaries. The results were condemnatory for the latter group.
Right. And the level 4 pregen is our character. Gotcha.
Where did we make decisions regarding pre-gens? Where did people get their pre-gens from?
Seeing if this post allows me to add this thread.
Much better profile. |