by Swith Witherward » Thu Oct 24, 2019 8:48 pm
by Swith Witherward » Thu Nov 07, 2019 9:50 pm
MISSION BRIEF
GESELLSCHAFT TASK FORCE DOSSIER
MISSION NO. 001
CODENAME: OPSTAL
NATURE: PROTECTIVE/PEACEFORCE
LETHAL FORCE: AUTHORIZED IF NECESSARY
SITUATION:
Slate is a relatively new agriculture and mining colony in the Spar system along the Truman Trade Route. Its proximity to this route makes it a vital source of food and energy. At the time of this colony's founding and construction, it was thought that the planet itself was void of life.
This assessment was incorrect. The indigenous lifeforms - deemed "cicadas" by the locals due to their sound and cyclical appearances - are highly aggressive and predatory. The Slate Agriculture Association and Bradypus Mining Conglomerate have contracted GESELLSCHAFT for the purpose of protecting assets and local life from occasional outbreak.
HABITABLE ZONES:
Agriculture: Planet habitation is possible via geodesic dome structures, or hemispherical thin-shell structures (lattice-shell) based on a geodesic polyhedron. The triangular elements of the dome are structurally rigid and distribute the structural stress throughout the structure, making geodesic domes able to withstand very heavy loads for their size. Currents through the shell tend to deter invasive indigenous life.
In the Agri Sectors, the interior of each structure is augmented to mimic living conditions as found on earth: weather, clouds, and other atmospheric familiarity. Extensive terraforming has transformed the landscape and soil into a rich medium for crop growth and livestock.
Cicada outbreak is common in Agri sectors due to the availability of meat. Most farms are equipped with the technology necessary to track and put down the occasional threat. As most farmers in this sector are veterans from the Crusix War, it isn't uncommon to find homemade mechs as primary defense.
The occupied farming zones are comprised of four agriculture domes: Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta. Each AgriDome consists of eight human families each.
Mining: Bradypus Mining Conglomerate operates one deusmodium mining facility on Slate. This facility occupies the largest dome. Laborers live on site in company housing. Demographically, human and human hybrid males make up the majority of the labor force. Twenty percent of all workers are non-human nor of Earth origin.
City: Morsicant is a dirtside city and port located 112km from Bradypus Mining Conglomerate. It is limited to barge and small craft. The Morsicant Freight Yards are several kilometers beyond this but are not protected by domes. Morsicant supports the needs of local farmers and miners.
UNINHABITABLE ZONES:
Though gravity is similar to earth, the atmosphere outside of the domes is chiefly composed of carbon dioxide.
TEAM ASSIGNMENT:
Hjabass, Walt - director
"The Barber" - investigations
Blackwater, Minerva - operations
"Brit" - gunsmithing
Elsegood, Darlene "Dar" - survival
Felton, Gordon - bureaucrat
PRO-NS-34 “Jormungand” - engineer
Salazar, Javier "Oruga" Eliseo Luque - pilot
Seamus - cobbler
Turnbull, Jesse - medical doctor
ASSEMBLY:
All operatives are to assemble at the terminal's northern end. Shuttle service will be provided.
MISSION / EXECUTION:
1. Task Summary: Per colony request, the Agency will establish a base of operations on Slate.
2. Task Summary: Patrol and conduct reconnaissance missions topside to determine severity of indigenous incursion into habitable zones.
3. Task Summary: Assist local law enforcement to provide an extra measure of peace between minors, farmers, and townspeople.
UNCLASSIFIED FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY
Information contained in this document is designated as For Official Use Only (FOUO) and may not be released to anyone without the prior authorization.
Found specifically on Earth, cicadas (/sɪˈkɑːdə/ or /sɪˈkeɪdə/) are a superfamily,
the Cicadoidea, of insects in the order Hemiptera (true bugs).
They are in the suborder Auchenorrhyncha, along with smaller
jumping bugs such as leafhoppers and froghoppers.
★ Madhouse ★
Role Play
& Writers Group
Anti-intellectual elitism: the dismissal of science, the arts,
and humanities and their replacement by entertainment,
self-righteousness, ignorance, and deliberate gullibility. - sauce
by Highfort » Thu Nov 07, 2019 11:02 pm
by Giovenith » Fri Nov 08, 2019 12:40 am
by Holy Lykos » Fri Nov 08, 2019 9:07 am
by Rodez » Fri Nov 08, 2019 9:59 am
by Talchyon » Fri Nov 08, 2019 11:32 pm
Louisianan wrote:Talchyon has great comedic writing, that is true.
by Sylvanstreak » Sat Nov 09, 2019 1:38 am
by Monfrox » Sat Nov 09, 2019 5:58 pm
Xing wrote:Yeah but you also are the best at roleplay. (yay Space Core references) I'm pretty sure a four man tank crew is no problem for someone that had 27 different RP characters going at one time.
The Grey Wolf wrote:Froxy knows how to use a whip, I speak from experience.
by Giovenith » Sat Nov 09, 2019 7:03 pm
by Swith Witherward » Sun Nov 10, 2019 6:49 pm
★ Madhouse ★
Role Play
& Writers Group
Anti-intellectual elitism: the dismissal of science, the arts,
and humanities and their replacement by entertainment,
self-righteousness, ignorance, and deliberate gullibility. - sauce
by Sylvanstreak » Sun Nov 10, 2019 9:05 pm
by Monfrox » Mon Nov 11, 2019 3:44 am
Xing wrote:Yeah but you also are the best at roleplay. (yay Space Core references) I'm pretty sure a four man tank crew is no problem for someone that had 27 different RP characters going at one time.
The Grey Wolf wrote:Froxy knows how to use a whip, I speak from experience.
by Holy Lykos » Mon Nov 11, 2019 6:01 am
by Talchyon » Mon Nov 11, 2019 11:45 am
Giovenith wrote:The various members assembled, each seemingly becoming more strange than the last. Now, Dar knew for a fact that in the event of a nuclear apocalypse, radiation does not in fact give people superpowers or turn them into cool monsters, but she couldn't help but be reminded of the comics that depicted such when she was suddenly surrounded by wolf-snake people, and... a leprechaun?
Yes, it actually was a leprechaun, like in the St. Patty's decorations.
This took Dar aback for a moment, surprised that the experience had somehow gone straight from intimidating to silly. Surprise melted away to relief though, and ease. Smiling, she knelt down to offer a handshake to little, green-wearing person. "Good morning, mister," she greeted. "You seem excited for the mission."
Sylvanstreak wrote:Most of the others seemed like fishes out of water, judging by the stiffness and quiet they showed. Put better, its new teammates. The only ones not doing so besides the red-haired woman striding into the distance and the newly arrived humanoid with four arms, were the wolf/snake hybrid, the young human female and the short human man.
Its eyes flickered from brown to silver for an instant, a blink-and-miss-it sign that the android was calculating its next move. Normally, of course, its infiltration and disguise protocols kept it from doing such a thing, but away from any situation needing those, much moreso on Morsicant, it didn't much care. Not even for the more intense calculations that would be even more obvious. But asking about the scents could wait for another time; learning about this place came first. So, nothing else ahead...
It strode over to the other three it had identified as most at ease, and hunched down, leaning backward and balancing on its heels.
"You lot seem like you know what this place is. Mind filling me in?" The Barber said, in the choppy, occasionally singsongy-up-and-down accent that went with its default 'skin'.
Swith Witherward wrote:Minerva couldn't gauge the Director's thoughts as the team approached; his sour expression remained fixed, a fleshy mask hiding foreboding thoughts perhaps. Only his eyes moved, at times blinking at an abnormally slow speed before darting to view the next person approaching. He did not respond to their salutations.
See? A jackass.
She chose to ignore both him and Purna, and focused instead on each individual as they arrived. A small nod of her head to acknowledge them, a faint wink at Brit to show encouragement after the young woman's first ride through space, a polite hello or three. The Leprechaun gave her pause. She made a mental note to remind him that his uniform doubled as environmental protection.
Brief chit-chat, some polite words shared between strangers. All the while, the Director's expression didn't change. Silence fell, interrupted only by Dar's friendly greeting, and then the same annoying pause while they all looked around at each other.
"Director," Minerva fixed a smile to her face. She wasn't about to play the power-trip game with a damn senior agent. "As Mr Felton stated, this was a long journey for the team. May we proceed to headquarters to stow our gear and be briefed?"
"You are missing a member," Hjabass eyes narrowed as Minerva mentally counted each person and face. "Oh, I am mistaken," he continued. His gaze diverted towards the tavern where a rather large being shambled along at a lazy pace.
Of all the team, only Brit or Minerva would recognize a thade. Four arms, two legs, and too muscular for their own good, they were the Agency's occasional heavies. The cultist's prior assignment alongside them gave her an advantage: this bull was indeed warrior cast.
"Director, the briefing did not-"
"Correct, Ms Blackwater," Hjabass clipped her question, "Your briefing did not mention it."
The Director's lips curled into something that passed for a smile. His voice inflections remained as dry and harsh as ever. "Welcome to Slate, Team Alpha. The Agency appreciates your volunteerism spirit. Headquarters are located at 42nd Subabsurdus Street-"
"You've got to be shitting me." Minerva grit her teeth.
"-which is a ten minute walk from here. I'll see to it that your baggage arrives in an hour or so. You are free until the evening. We will brief then."
Hjabass turned and strode towards the bar which the thade had vanished into moments prior. Minerva breathed out a relieved sigh.
"Alright, people, let's get cracking on this wonderful assignment!" The redhead hefted her bag strap a bit higher on her shoulder. "By the way, I'm Minerva Blackwater. I'm a senior agent, but I'm not in charge. Hjabass is. I'm sure we'll have a splendid time once he crawls back into his office in the space station above."
Nothing more for it than to find their new home. Minerva set off towards the street. "Doctor," she offered Doc Sawbones a smile, "Logistics is my specialty. If you take inventory and find your setup lacking, I'll acquire anything you might need - within reason. Unless, of course, there's nothing there at all, in which case we'll borrow or steal whatever isn't nailed down until we can get your clinic set up at HQ."
Holy Lykos wrote:Jorm watched their boss carefully, noting the utter lack of... well any sort of reaction, even as Jor gave nods to each of the people who came after him. Odd group, but he was long used to it. Weird attracted weird, after all. Like that time he stumbled into a cult of UFOlogists living in the shell of an airplane. Odd times back then, they proved kindly at the very least, yet this was somehow both odder yet more comforting. Maybe there'd be some cicada stew on the horizon, if they were gonna deal with enough of them.
Some large, mutilimbed alien that set his scales shivery out of some instinctive sense that told him to flee, that was apparently one of their team, according to the Boss at least. But running away would just be rude! speaking of rude, Jor introduced himself again once Blackwater was done. "Since there's new ones 'mong us, I'm Jormungand. Mechanics n' engineering. Could always use more parts for whatever stuff I gotta fix, just in case things break, and so I can learn 'bout them."
He sniffed a bit more as they walked, trying to pinpoint a scent, "And who brought uh..." He thought for a moment, "Aaapples? No, no, too antiseptic... Right! Oranges."
Louisianan wrote:Talchyon has great comedic writing, that is true.
by Holy Lykos » Mon Nov 11, 2019 2:28 pm
by Highfort » Mon Nov 11, 2019 6:27 pm
by Rodez » Tue Nov 12, 2019 1:03 pm
by Holy Lykos » Tue Nov 12, 2019 6:06 pm
Highfort wrote:He tried to put the mutant at ease, "Should be plenty for you to work off of, Doctor, without needing to vivisect any of our associates. Worst case, Mr. Jormungand, he'll probably need to do a few full-body scans and draw some blood - no permanent damage, of course. We're all much more useful alive and healthy, I would think."
Rodez wrote:"Hey there, uh, Jorm. Our mechanic, huh? I'm the pilot. I really have no clue what they're gonna have me fly, but whatever it is, I'll likely need your help, hermano."
by Sylvanstreak » Wed Nov 13, 2019 6:41 pm
by Monfrox » Fri Nov 15, 2019 2:54 am
Xing wrote:Yeah but you also are the best at roleplay. (yay Space Core references) I'm pretty sure a four man tank crew is no problem for someone that had 27 different RP characters going at one time.
The Grey Wolf wrote:Froxy knows how to use a whip, I speak from experience.
by Giovenith » Fri Nov 15, 2019 8:48 pm
by Talchyon » Sat Nov 16, 2019 4:08 pm
Holy Lykos wrote:Jorm caught an eyeful of the small redhead running for the nearest bar. Might as well visit that later, see what they had on tap and who the locals were. But for now, there were more pressing things! Like polite conversation with a doctor. His ears slowly fell backwards as his neck twisted in an odd, snakelike manner to give him a good view of the doctor. Made sense the man would struggle working with his body, at least. Perhaps some tests or physicals, like it seemed every doctor wanted to do with him.
The night stalker nodded slowly, eye noting some sort of temple or church, though he didn't recognize the symbols adorning the sign, nor could he read the lettering. Why did people make fancy schmancy signage? Why not just plain text? That alone was hard enough... Guess it did look pretty, especially with the constellation of what Jormungand presumed were religious symbols around the name and the fact it was one of the tallest structures in town with a tower of some sort and a dome above the main body of the building. But the Doctor puilled his attention again as they walked.
He sniffed, nose twitching just a bit before he responded, He seemed "Well, yer a bit lucky there. 'm not exactly fully, uh, natural, I guess you'd put it. 'Genetic Experiment', I think the term was. My innards are a bit more organized than most, and I could roughly tell you what each are meant to do. Like my venom glands, pretty easy there. Agency did some scans of myself when they picked me up, could request those."
He paused, his voice turning a bit hesitant and quiet. "Y'all won't try to tear me apart to study, right?"
Highfort wrote:Gordon ... cracked a friendly smile, "Not any food, I'm afraid. Was trying out an old favorite scent: a light citrus, to compliment the lilies. I have the ability to influence sensation, you see; comes in handy when trying to make an impression; otherwise, I specialize in management and conflict resolution."
Highfort wrote:He turned to Doctor Turnbull and Minerva at the mention of logistical matters, as well as Jormungand's mention of needing parts for repairs, "As soon as I get my computer and such set up I think we ought to set up some comm channels and task management software to quantify everything. I'm assuming we'll be getting some kind of corp-issued phone or tablet, so I'll see about an app to keep track of common supply lists and daily check-in tasks."
Turnbull's mention of different alien physiologies piqued his interest in-particular, "Given our position as the colony's primary protectors, it shouldn't be too difficult to acquire some organ-donation reject corpses and medical waste for you. And I have no doubt that the internet or whatever equivalent we have here has plenty of data on the various bodies you'll be treating."
He tried to put the mutant at ease, "Should be plenty for you to work off of, Doctor, without needing to vivisect any of our associates. Worst case, Mr. Jormungand, he'll probably need to do a few full-body scans and draw some blood - no permanent damage, of course. We're all much more useful alive and healthy, I would think."
"Eh, now then, I think we ought to make sure our new friend isn't causing any trouble," he gestured toward the tavern as the door shut behind the leprechaun, beginning to walk over, "Local barkeep should have a handle on what's happening; I don't suppose anyone objects to an icebreaker and a drink?"
Sylvanstreak wrote:The group seemed to have scattered quite quickly. How odd.
The android cocked its head and turned to Doc Sawbones and the still-unnamed female. There wasn't much of anything that was happening, so it -
All of its nanites processed an image of a 20-sided die at once, bouncing, bouncing, bouncing, and coming up with a wheat stalk. The Barber felt itself shifting against its own will, as one of Summerveil's uncounted jack-in-the-boxes triggered in its code. When it was properly done changing shape, the android had kept its normal skin, but was now hanging slouched off a wooden frame, decked out in old and worn straw hat and a loose, rough burlap poncho, with a pipe sticking out of its mouth.
"Not the sorts of people to enjoy drinking?" The pipe blocking its mouth didn't trouble its speech any, as the Barber-scarecrow puffed away, bubbles formed from itself floating upward and "popping" into nanodust too fine for the humans to see, merging back into its body. "I'm sure we can find something else to do, food, or pool perhaps, in the bar? Or maybe a nice round on the jukebox?"
Louisianan wrote:Talchyon has great comedic writing, that is true.
by Sylvanstreak » Mon Nov 18, 2019 7:33 pm
Giovenith wrote:"You can't really take care of yourself when you're drunk, can you?"
...
"Oh, uh, my name is Darlene, by the way," she suddenly remembered, gesturing to herself. "But you can call me Dar. I'd uh, really love to get to know everyone, but..." But not really? That wouldn't be polite, and it wasn't entirely true. She did want to know them, but perhaps not under those circumstances. She peered around him towards the entrance of the bar, noting the twisted smells, dark lighting, and apparently claustrophobic atmosphere. "... but I really think we should probably at least get our work started right away, shouldn't we?"
Talchyon wrote:..."And no, I'd rather inspect my clinic!" Dealing with townspeople was the last thing he wanted to do. Dealing with half his team was a close second.
by Highfort » Mon Nov 18, 2019 8:53 pm
Advertisement
Return to Portal to the Multiverse
Users browsing this forum: G-Tech Corporation, Olthenia, Zei-Aeiytenia
Advertisement