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Elerian
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 11356
Founded: Aug 31, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Elerian » Fri Nov 15, 2019 12:31 pm

Old Man, Rakodan


He wasn’t as young and agile as he once was, and his clumsiness may end up getting him killed. After the rocks were sent careening down the embankment, he stood in full view of the xenos, ready to accept whatever fate would throw at him. He was obviously unarmed, even from the distance he stood from the xenos, all of whom were Ellireans. In his time as an Imperial officer, he’d dealt with the Ellireans aplenty. Their expansionist nature shrouded by their seemingly noble intentions. They supposedly hated humanity for its alien ways, and antithetical ways, but he knew the truth. They hated humanity because humanity had achieved galactic dominance first. Now it mattered little, the great Imperium of Man was no more, split into a thousand thousand smaller pieces.

Many years ago, when the bounties on Admiral Tchaikovsky’s head were mounting, the Imperium had seen fit to give him some hostage training. For all the good it would have done him. If any of his numerous enemies would have gotten their hands on him, he would have been dead and desecrated within the hour. Even still, he called upon that training in the hopes that he might live a little longer.

Holding his hands up submissively in the air, he cleared his throat, not having used his vocal cords in some time.

“I can explain...”

Rifles still raised and gripped tight, holding the human square in their sights, one of the armed aliens called back to him, it’s voice mixing with the shrill howl of the desert wind but still very much audible.

“You better, before I blow your head right off your shoulders, won’t even be a bit to clean up later.” The Ellirean who spoke to him was tense, that much was sure. He had surprised and startled them, this world was not known for being welcoming, and these Ellireans were definitely not local, their gear, the fact they hadn’t shot him already. They were from the Accordance, perhaps their more civilized Inner-Galaxy ways would keep them calm enough for him to reason with them.

He felt as though he’d been summoned to Rakodan. For what purpose he didn’t yet know. But, these Ellireans didn’t need to know that, else they may think he was some sort of mad dog in need of a prompt euthanization.

“I’m a Psionic. I came to Rakodan in hopes of studying the local tears in the paracasual veil. It looks like you may be here with the same purpose. Perhaps I can be of use to you?”

He still wasn’t sure whether they would let their hatred of humans overcome their supposed civility. So long as he remained useful, he might stay alive for a few moments longer.

Skill-check: 90 - Great Success!

The aliens seemed to talk something over, the one dressed in civilian attire that is. Sturdy and durable outdoor-wear from the look of it. The ones with guns still pointed them at Leon, but it seemed like they listened to the others, one of the civilians had to be the leader of this small group. He could only hear the occasional word, not enough to try and understand the conversation. Soon, one of them motioned to the guards to lower their guns, they did so, albeit reluctantly and they still kept them close to the chest, ready to raise them and fire at the slightest sense of foul play.

“Come down closer human!” The apparent leader calls out. “Se we can talk without shouting over the wind? How long have you been here? We want to know what you may have observed.”

“No sudden movements! And keep your hands where we can see them!” One of the guards added, for good measure.

He kept his hands raised as they were, and with a great deal of caution, made his way down the embankment to join the scientists, or whatever they may be. Once he reached the bottom, he folded his hands in front of him so they were easily visible to the xenos.

“I’ve been here longer than anyone with any measure of sense.” He joked. “A few weeks at the most, it's hard to be sure. The days blend together, and the tears in the veil make time seem to flow differently here.”

He tensed suddenly, as the familiar thrum of the paracasual flared in his ears.

“And I’ve seen things. Things you wouldn’t believe unless you were gifted with Psionics such as mine.”

The leader looked at him with a mix of fear and intriguement. Still spooked by the fact he was caught sneaking around their camp and watching them from the shadows. But she still took a few steps forward, regarding the human from top to bottom, apprising him.

“Evolution gave us only part of the gift, we must rely on chance for the rest.” She said with slight exasperation.

“My name is Mieemth T’Kess, I’m a researcher from the department of Xenoarchaeology at the University of Nicayle. I’ve come to study the Rakodan civilization and their social system, we know little of them and orbital scans from our ship showed a largely intact structure, buried somewhere in the surrounding area. Have you seen anything like that it in your time here? Do you know what I speak of?” She said, curiously waiting for an answer. Her companions seemed far less excited and talkative, watching him with fear in their eyes, except for the guards who regarded him with cold glares, guns lowered but fingers hovering very close to the trigger-guard.

“Perhaps. It looked like a house or maybe a mansion. I saw it in a vision. I was on my way to find it, when I came across all of you.”

Maybe it was fate, or just dumb luck that he had come across these academic types. They may come in handy should the situation get dicey. It also helped that the civvies looked a bit afraid of him.

“This all may sound very convenient, but if it helps assuage your fears, you may search my person and effects. Otherwise we may as well get on our way.”

T’Kess nodded to her guards, one of the xenos stepped forward, her companion still ready to riddle Leon with holes if he as much as twitched out of turn. Patting him down, she found nothing but a few personal knick-knacks and in his rucksack, finding nothing but the man’s simple, meager belongings, bare necessities needed for survival.

T’Kess nodded to herself, thinking silently. “Meros.” One of the Ellireans in civilian clothing perked up. “Get this human a ration, he looks famished. You will wait here while we gather our equipment, rest, eat. It won’t do to have you collapse in a heap along the way.”

The researcher’s followers seemed to accept their leaders decision, though begrudgingly. He was thrown a meal-pack and one of the guards escorted him to the center of the small camp, indicating a chair for him to sit on. She herself, stayed behind the human. Watching intently, finger on the trigger as T’Kess put a small team together and gathered supplies.


An Elerian and Hungary Production

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Zjaum
Senator
 
Posts: 3919
Founded: Oct 15, 2016
New York Times Democracy

Postby Zjaum » Fri Nov 15, 2019 4:24 pm

"Planet 5"

The radio telescope was approximately two hundred acres in area. It was curved in a large parabola, and, surrounded by and elevated above jagged terrain, practically inaccessible from outside the dish. What made matters even more unique were the large wires that led to the feed horn in the center. Roai had to navigate through all that simply to land the vessel on the surface. Keyu, apparently, was then to dismount the space ship, crowbar off the satellite's ceramic plating, and load it onto the ship. T'kra would settle everything, and Roai would enact the reverse stunts. Ideally, they could do this without being seen.
T'kra detailed the plan to her subordinates. Roai glowed. "I can't do that! What, are you insane? Didn't you see what I just did?!"
"You're in a much less stressful environment now, Roai. You can go as slowly as you'd like. I have faith in you."
"I don't."
"Thank you, Keyu. You're always such a contribution."
"Um, I don't know... I'll do my best, though!"
"That's all I'm asking. Remember to land on the bottom of the dish. We're less noticeable that way, and it ensures the ship won't tip over on the steep slope and tumble down into a crash. In the meantime, I'm buckling my seat belt. Just in case."
Roai slowly, methodically, pounded on the poor navigation panel. Keyu slumped over, bracing for impact. Less dangerous? Yes. A comfortable option? Probably not.

Action: Land the Kayi under the feed horn in the center of the dish.
I use my NationStates stats, because a population of billions/trillions and an economy of hundreds of trillions is totally viable, trust me.
But seriously, aside from the population and GDP, just assume that my NS stats are roughly accurate.

Support: Paleo-imperialism, conservatism, libertarianism, Christianity.
Against: Stupid people, resistance to industrial progress, alt-right, any form of government at or beyond socialism.

I hail from The League of Conservative Nations. Hearts unthawed, hearts unshaken!

Takaka Tar' Turayi,
The stars will be ours someday.

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The National Dominion of Hungary
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1935
Founded: May 31, 2012
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The National Dominion of Hungary » Fri Nov 15, 2019 5:19 pm

T'kra Tyawerai

T'kra shut the comm-link down before the captain of the stricken freighter could deliver his string of only the most imaginative expletives through the ether as the Werais´ pinnace turned sharply away from the trade ship and it's escort whose comms still seemed to be down, no signals arriving or leaving. The escort vessels gun were still apparently out of action as they stayed the course, following their employer as the freighter was moving away at whatever top speed it could manage. The maneuverable Werai ship quickly escaped their former foes, especially given they were far more interested in licking their wounds and getting their systems operational once more, expending the fuel needed to hunt down a lone Sunburst wasn't worth it. That, or the escort simply couldn't hear their employers raving and ranting, ordering them to pursue the escaping pinnace and blow it out of the void. Hard to do without functioning weapons anyway. As Roai hit the button, the FTL-drivecore spun up and sent a powerful current through it's mictharium core, the craft shot forward at 50 times the speed of light. Catapulting toward the planet, T'Kra had some time to think over how to handle this new mission. The station they were heading to was small and mostly automated so there likely wouldn't be much more than two or three occupants, five at most. There was no way to know what kind of security was present. Zipping in fast and low in an attempt to avoid the sensors the ship set down. Nothing sounded, nothing moved, for now at least, they were alone. Perhaps the station was fully automated? Gathering telemetry and sending it somewhere across the stars. For now, that did not matter to the Werai as Roai donned the space-suit and made her way out the airlock. Her work went slow, but she seemed to calm down after a while and set to it with focus. Soon, she had ripped materials worth around 180 credits off the dish. They could continue, but perhaps it would not be wise to tempt fate.

Skill-check: 83 - Fine Success.
Skill check: 69 - Small Success. Gain 3 loads of ceramic plating. (Each takes up 5 cargo units and is worth 65 credits.)



Kyr Mirhorn Van

Sneaking into the ship went better than most expected. Using their small size to their advantage they crept through the cargo hold like shadows and squeezed into the maintenance-tunnel. For the Zorvishi it would have been terribly uncomfortable, it was probably the ulthars and humans in the crew that did most of the maintenance work that creeping around in here. They could hear noises from across the ship echoing through, loud music was being played somewhere above them, the galley more specifically Kyr guessed from looking over the ship schematic. If they were truly lucky the guys left with the ship had been jealous of their friends and decided to have their own party here. Of course, the noise made it harder for the ducks to try and hear the pirates walking close by, but then again, the pirates would hopefully have a harder time hearing them too. Moving forward in the dim light of the tunnel. Music growing ever louder as they moved further up, ascending to the second deck. Then, they had to find their way to the crew quarters which in and of itself wasn't hard. The hard part was the fact that there was nearly a dozen pirates in there, loud music thumped, drink was swilled and a high-stakes game of Pulsar was no doubt unfolding to the noisy cheers and jeers from the onlookers, cheering on the two players in heated competition for a pile of cred-chits in the middle of the table, giving off a warm orange glow. The crew quarters were split into three segments each housing forty, it the slave pens had to be in the middle or on the far-side. There no chance getting past through these pirates without making some noise. The pirates were wholly unprepared for combat of any kind. Some guns lay scattered about and they could see some of them with pistols or wickedly barbed knives in holsters and sheaths. But they were not expecting any kind of attack and all seemed drunk off their asses, high as kites or both. They could probably open the door and burst from the tunnels guns blazing. Then everyone would know they're there. They left immediately and continued through the tunnel, moving along a passage running parallel with the crew quarter and then up above the ceiling and below the inner hull. Kyr looked through the small window of the access-hatch leading to the farthest of the quarters, there was the slave-pen! 21 people, men, women and even three children, a menagerie of different species all locked behind the bars of large metal cages. Watching them were three sullen guards, armed and armored, plasma pistols and chock-batons in their belts. Somehow, the ducks would have to take them down, hopefully very quietly.

Skill-check: 53 - Small Success.



Samuel Bridge Iron

Sam's foray to Ylem started out as a tale of beauty and sorrow, the planet's nature was overwhelming to the Qharlaq native, never had he seen such untamed greenery, the strange birds that flew in the sky were beautiful, graceful, wild and untamed by civilization. Perhaps this is what the ancestors of the Gharryn had looked like billions of years ago? Before they tamed their world with tools, fire and wheels. Slowly turning it into an all-encompassing city. But the nature was scarred, charred craters left by explosions. Dirty, crowded refugee camps full of desperate faces. Burned-out vehicles on the sides of empty roads, ruined and abandoned settlements where only the dead remained. Shacktown as Sam had called it seemed to have been picked over several times to scavengers. Most things of any value were gone but there was still some to salvage. He found two Irinur Combine DEP's near the bodies of a few militiamen who had fallen in the defense of their homeworld. As Sam arrived in Discovery and made his way to the market, announcing his wares he was immediately swamped by eager potential buyers. He did not have to think long to image the situation in the city's local clinics and hospitals, overrun with victims of the fighting. By the end of it, only a representative of the local planetary government remains, flanked by a secretary and a few members of the Ylem militia. She is a severe-looking older human woman, she is dressed very well and has an air of authority about her. She introduces herself as Ilizbet Maywyr, Head of Acquisitions at the Discovery Central Hospital. She looks over the supplies that same has come dragging along with great interest, her eyes lingered especially long on the small sterile-field generator, no doubt a great benefit to the frontier hospitals operation rooms. She offered a good deal, better than any of the other people who had come before her, she would take that crate of his hands for 780 credits. Nearly twice the sum he had purchased it for.

Scavvers luck: 39 - Could be better. 2 T25-DEP's - 18 Credits.
Skill-check: 82 - Fine Success.



Siamatus Tadosia

Opening his third eye and looking through the paracasual Siamatus senses nothing, no terrible danger lurking within draws his attention. At least in the parts that reveal themselves through him in blurry, shifting images racing through his mind. But they also reveal the tomb is large, many halls and grand chambers, those far in the depths his third eye cannot see, perhaps there is something lurking in the deepest recesses of this ancient place. The Rakodan species must have greatly revered their dead to spend so much time and effort to build these vast monuments to honor them. Aye, old fading murals and strange glyphs adorned the walls as Siamatus watched in awe. They spared no expense in time, the quality of the workmanship, the artistry, it was all there thousands and thousands of year later. A pang of sorrow washed over the Kasath as he contemplated the loss of all this to the merciless sands. But that sorrow was soon overcome by excitement and a sense of wonder, walking these ancient spaces was, on it's own, breathtaking. The echoes of his footsteps in the inky blackness of the beautiful halls was enough to fascinate and terrify. But he remained fixed on his prize, the prize that lay waiting for him further in. He had to press further, into the places where his vision did not reach, into the place where the one whom all this had been built for rested.

Skill-check: 86 - Fine Success.



Me'lek Tsualn

Supplies were loaded, storerooms filled with rations and equipment. Tents, survey gear, fuel-cells and spare parts for their vehicles. Rovers and shuttles were, among dependable shelter an explorer's best friend out there. Traversing long distances across rough landscapes was never easy, less so without dependable vehicles. Taking a UIAX-commission gave some benefits, they were allowed to use a number of more expensive pieces of surveying gear for the duration of their assignment in order to get highly accurate scans on mineral deposits, soil conditions and other factors determining a planet's viability for colonization. The crew were glad to have an immediate purpose, even though they grumbled and complained as often as ever about the weight of the crates and joking around making mock bets on who would catch the strangest, most exotic new disease. After a few days, Me'lek got a message from their handler at the local UIAX-office, giving her a green light to launch the mission. The Cortez made it's way toward the cluster's Warp-Gate and punched in the given coordinates, the gate propelled them over 211 lightyears in only a few minutes. As they exited their lane of the ancient highway left to the galaxy by the builders they found themselves in virgin space. None had been here before them in millennia and perhaps even longer. The crew looked out at the darkness with determined gazes and confident smiles, then they looked to their captain to choose which of the three systems they would go to. One had six worlds and a presumable asteroid belt. Another had five planets and the last had four, but the probe had also picked up a strange signature being emitted by something there.



Leon Tchaikovsky

Together they marched, up through the steep slopes and clambering over jagged rocks. Leon moved as quick as he could following the aliens. T'Kess seemed unburdened by the heavy pack she was carrying, showing a level of stamina perhaps not associated with an academic from one of the Accordance's core worlds whose life back home could not have been much other than cushy. She had a determined glare in her eye as she strode up the outcroppings looking ahead with great enthusiasm. Leon himself walked at the head of the small column leading the way. One of T'Kess´guards was behind him, seemingly unhappy that she couldn't keep the human at gunpoint at all times as they traveled over the rough terrain and two of the research assistants brought up the rear, walking with considerably more difficulty than their seemingly tireless leader. The winds seemed to have calmed down in this part of the red planet, one didn't have to shout so the person next to you would hear. Leon periodically stopped, scanning the surrounding landscape for landmarks he had committed to memory in his visions. After about four, five hours? Time felt strange and distorted in this place, but not matter, they finally found themselves at their destination. Rising from the sands was a building, most of it's western half buried under some ancient landslide. But they could see clearly, this had been a beautiful place once, a grand courtyard, once filled with local flora before it had been lost to the sands. Two great rectangular tower-like structures rose up in the back, the paint long since stripped away. Something had led Leon here and through him the same thing had brought the scientist and her team. They walked the last stretch to the large stone gate, the control panel was dead but luckily someone had at some point blasted their way in, the lower part of the gate's right side was missing.


Last edited by The National Dominion of Hungary on Sat Nov 16, 2019 6:19 am, edited 1 time in total.

Plotek i medialnych bredni nie daj sobie wmówić,
Codziennie się rozwijaj i nie daj się ogłupić,
Atakowi propagandy stawiaj czoło dzielnie,
Nie daj sobą sterować i myśl samodzielnie.


Mass Effect Andromeda is a solid 7/10. Deal with it.

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Ralnis
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 26592
Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Sat Nov 16, 2019 9:32 pm

The Wicked Grin,
Kyr Mirhorn Van


The Chieftain was glad that they had managed to sneak through the ship so far. Such a mighty endeavor was something most couldn't have done or would do. It was the party that was divine providence that the Clan's luck wasn't running out. Hearing the large sounds of jovial drinking and gambling challenges of the crew quarters had deafen the sound of the infiltration of the ducks assault.

Between the party and the slave pens, there was around fifteen pirates in total, sixteen counting the first pirate they encountered. Guessing on the number of people and the true number in the whole ship, then it would seem that the crew of the Grin numbered around forty. That means that twenty were on the ship and if they jumped them then taking out most would allowed them to have a light resistance. The danger was that others on the ship would potentially notify the rest of the crew out and the captain could be on the ship.

The few warriors or brave clan members wanted to fight their way through the ship, earn their marks in true battle but this wasn't the case. This ambush, if successful, would be a grave wound on the captain and would provide a experience against the captain himself. If Kyr and her clan defeated the captain then such glory would be great for the broken clan.

But how much glory did they want to grab from this? Liberating the slaves was an honorable task and they were already have done most than what Kyr thought they would. The three guards that are watching the slaves had light armor and that meant shields around them. The idea would be that the chieftain and someone would had to come in and kill them quickly and quietly. That was a difficult sale to pull for the location of the pens was near the party. Not just that, their weapons weren't made to be quiet and only a energy pistol and the looted carbine were the only ones that were quieter than the powder weapons and Kyr's own battle rifle.

If they were able to ambush the three guards, such a feat would be amazing. However the chieftain didn't believe that they have the weapons to do it but she feared alerting the ship and potentially the crew to their presence. To her, time had stood still and the sound of music and whispers to think of a choice, a choice that Kyr didn't want to do but it was do or die.

A cock of the battle rifle and the sound of the weapon checks. They all nod but some, like Zax were hesitant but gave a slow nod. She put her feathered grip on the hatch door and her rifle out. They waited a few seconds for she gave a opened the hatch in and aimed to turned their party from orange to the color of their blood.

Action: Ambush the partying pirates in the crew quarters. Make sure to use cover and have Kyr shoot in the behind with the DMR and help put down forces. Those with assault rifles and the plasma carbine fire into them at full auto.

User avatar
Ness Alquam
Civil Servant
 
Posts: 9
Founded: Nov 12, 2019
Ex-Nation

Postby Ness Alquam » Sun Nov 17, 2019 12:08 pm

Sakol Linyako
Fiyarro, Sathas

"The Irinur Combine T25-DEP is a plasma pistol widely used by law enforcement agencies. The pistol is more effective against shields and armor while still being effective against lightly armored foes. The pistol has a high damage output, low range, and medium rate of fire" Sakol's communicator read out to him as he laid back on his couch in his captain's quarters. He slid down the item's page to the bottom in order to buy 2 of the pistols when he heard knocking on his door. He glances at the door's panel which was connected to a camera outside the door and saw his chief of Staff, Ifele Safi, otherwise known as the second command of the Starbringer, what Sakol named his ship. She was dressed in casual wear consisting of gray cargo jacket revealing a white vest underneath with black combat pants and combat boots. She was lightly tanned for someone who worked in the fields of Sathas and chose to wear her brown hair in a bun, topping her attire with orange-tinted goggles resting on top of her head. Sakol had gotten to know the rest of the crew for the few days while he was at Fiyarro looking for a map especially Ifele who the council picked as his second-in-command who also assisted in the search but had no results. She did, however, manage to keep the crew from tearing at each other or getting into disputes about the Union by assigning them to harmonious groups that chat more about other stuff than any topic relating to the Union and keeping them busy with work. Both Ifele and Sakol knew this wasn't a permanent solution but hope that the journey would build the crew morale to a point where the group system wasn't needed anymore. They both knew of the importance of the first expedition as it can be the thing to make or break this crew.

"Come in," Sakol shouts while unlocking the door from his communicator. He adjusts his position on the couch to allow Ifele the room to sit. She marches into the room and offers a salute to Sakol who takes that as the sign to close and lock his door in which she drops the salute as the door clicks shut. She proceeds to dump herself down in a chair opposite to Sakol dropping her military persona she walked in with.

"It is so weird to see you act formal and drop the act when in a closed, private space" Sakol comments who turned on the door's radio to play elevator music to make sure no one eavesdrop on their conservation while she settles herself putting her boots on the table between the two.

"Well, when society judges you for your every move and where your life will be decided by the most minor things. You will act just like me," Ifele scoffs who just noticed that Sakol had his communicator still open to the plasma pistol. "So, you are finally buying equipment for the expedition team?"

"Yeah. But why do you make it sound like I was putting it off and only now having the time to look at it" Sakol replies while adding 2 of the plasma pistols to his cart which causes Ifele to give him the eye. "Okay. Okay. Maybe I have been putting it off but it is for a reason."

"Are you talking about the offer from the old man?" Ifele asks while sitting up in her chair crossing her right leg over her left leg.

"Yeah," Sakol answers while dragging his shopping cart into a holographic view offering a 3D image of the items in the shopping cart on the table between the two. The image of two Irinur Combine T25-DEP pistol and two armored space suits appear on the table.

"We have a choice. Our first choice is to accept the veteran's offer but we have less money to spend on the expedition team which I will be leading which allows us the choice of just outfitting one extra person to join me. Our second choice is to check out the coordinates that the Xenoarcheological department has given us which allows us to spend more money on the expedition team who will be better equipped to handle any situation we encounter which is the equipment you see before you right now. So what would it be?" Sakol continues. Ifele gets up from her seat closely examining the equipment on the table leaving the room in silence while Sakol watches her for her reactions which he fails to do as she doesn't show any emotions.

"Hmmm... But the coordinates that the department has given to us, there is a structural risk due to the age of the ruins. However, with the old man, we risk the chance that he might be a scammer or that is map is a poof where someone else already looted the ruins." Ifele says while pausing for a moment "This is a difficult decision to make however if it is me personally I would have to go with the coordinates from the Xenoarcheological department, I just have a better feeling about that Builder cloud-city that if we manage to get operating again can lead us to a treasure trove of information about the locations of more Builder ruins. Plus, I would rather have our expedition team better equipped so we don't lose our captain so soon," Ifele puts a hand on Sakol's shoulder to comfort him. "No matter what happens I'm sure, our crew will happily agree with your decision" Ifele removes her hand and make her way back over to her seat. "On the not so bright side, the Union will have our hinds if we give them more bad reports,"

"Well, if it comes that we can run away from the Union" Sakol jokes.

"Outrun a galactic empire with their own ship that they loaned to us. HAHAHA. You have some mad courage for a new captain." Ifele laughs while throwing her head back. "Plus, I feel that your former squadmates would be all too glad to follow Union orders to drag us back to Union's courts despite your past relations."

"You have a point. But I wouldn't even run away even if I could. I believe that..." Sakol says while standing up from the couch and gesturing with his hands to the ship "We as a crew can do some revolutionary things that can transform the very fabric of the Union and the galaxy around us. We will be able to change the way the galaxy will work,"

"You have bravery. I'll give you that. Let us just see if we can translate that into reality" Ifele says while lounging herself on the chair. "But what if the Union doesn't want our change."

"If they decide to get in our way, we have no other choice but to trample them and everyone else who gets in our way. It is regrettable but we can't let anyone stop us from enlightening the universe to where every species have a mastery over space and time where we transcend the Builders themselves." Sakol reply which causes Ifele to sit up a little bit and pull out a flask.

"Those are some treasonous words that you just said but I don't really care at this point because we are in this together already." Ifele pronounces while bringing two cups to settle on the table pouring her special drink into the cups offering one to Sakol who takes it. "I wonder how the rest of the crew would think of our little plot," As both of them take a drink and Sakol confirm the purchase for the equipment for the expedition team. In the background, a song starts playing drowning the silent room in a somber mood as the lyrics of Our Souls in Death's hands now plays.

Action: Sakol purchases 2 Irinur Combine T25-DEP pistols and two armored spacesuits. He preps the crew for travel to the coordinates of the ancient Builder cloud-city given to him by the Xenoarcheological Department.
Last edited by Ness Alquam on Sun Nov 17, 2019 12:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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The Empire of Tau
Minister
 
Posts: 2362
Founded: Dec 19, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Empire of Tau » Sun Nov 17, 2019 1:51 pm

Merchant Man, Sam
The Travel to Noctis


The transactions on Ylem went wonderfully. Sam got more than he had thought. Besides from the sale of the medical crate, Sam had a new contact and a potential customer, Ilizbet Maywyr. For Sam, he knew that he had to form a good social network of trusted people. The benefits of one is immense and can not be ignored. Friends in certain places will yield interesting results, for better or ill. For now, Sam just has one person in his contact list, Iizbet. A lady he barely knows and looks close to death, but it is better than nothing. Before Sam left Ylem, he had asked the Head of Acquisitions if she needed anything else delivered and a few other questions about the planet. What is the people here like? How’s the planet doing? How bad is the pirate issue? What is most needed on the planet right now? What’s the safest path to Port Noctis?

Once Sam had finished his conversation with Ilizbet, Sam now had to Deliver 10 aircars to Port Noctis. A dangerous prospect for Sam. So far, Sam had not encounter any trouble. If Sam did find trouble, or the trouble comes to him, Sam only had a light-laser gun on the Suvura 3300. When it comes to personal defense, Sam and his crew of five only have Irinur Combines. Two scavenged from the dead and then the rest were purchased. Three Irinur Combines bought for standard market price of 20 credit per gun, 60 credits spent, on Ylem. If anything were to go down, the best bet for the lot was running as fast as possible. If that did not work then a display of arms and fire would be used. The best bet would be that no-one notices Sam delivering expensive cargo. Any engagement of arms would be bad as Sam had jackshit to handle more then a few pirate vessels, or even a single pirate ship.

If anything, Sam had previously bought extra supply at Qharlaq before he went to trade, costing him 80 credits. Most importantly, he had extra fuel-cells. The crew’s technician, Carnegie, told Sam that overclocking the Suvura 3300’s engines should be fine as long as it is only done a few times. After that, the engines and thrusters would be in need of repairs. Of course, that was in theory. Carnegie never overclocked the Suvura’s engines and thrusters before. All he could do was calculate the possibility and Implications, giving Sam an educated guess.

Sam plans to, if he gets to Port Noctis, buy a few things there too. That is once he delivers the aircars first. 2000 credits was a hefty amount for a small trader like Sam. With that amount, he could buy some extra utility to his ship. The Suvura 3300 has room for some add-on features that could be useful in a pitch. Sam heard that anything could be sold at Port Noctis without question. It was only a matter of having the credits to buy whatever. A free market taken to the extreme. No regulations, permits, oversight, and the law. As long you kept up a good eye for danger and scams then you find anything you need, or sell anything for a price. All Sam had to do was get to Port Noctis. Let’s hope that it works.

User avatar
Rodez
Diplomat
 
Posts: 760
Founded: Oct 18, 2016
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Rodez » Sun Nov 17, 2019 9:33 pm

Lucjan Vrana
Fiyarro, Sathas


Lucjan and Vester listened with interest as the bartender laid out the UIAX comissions. Some quick extranet searches more or less confirmed what the Ellirean had told them. They spent some time poring over their hand terminals, long after their drinks sat empty and the offer of a refill had been declined. A little while after they had paid their tab, the bartender, now less favorably disposed towards the two humans, came out swinging and demanded they buy another drink or leave.

That's alright, thought Lucjan, as they stood to leave. He and Vester had done their research and decided, as Captain and first mate, that the Farseer and her crew would go ahead and take a UIAX contract for the Hourglass Cluster. The profit possibilities really were too good to pass up, even with the obvious risks of traversing virgin space. He sent Vester off to to the Xenogeologic office to oversee the bureaucratic necessities of the trip, and sent off instructions to the rest of the crew to purchase some small arms. There was no telling what they might find out there; and the small expense sunk into the arms purchases would be made back ten times over or better if the trip was even a passing success.

Lucjan had turned to leave, but snatches of a conversation across the bar had caught his interest.

Tsualn spoke-up, though, snorting at it. “Private security isn’t the answer. They’d probably try to hire us out into some warzone in who-knows-where and at that point, we’re just a warship in a navy everyone distrusts and hates. Besides that, the moment I get servitors and debt-slaves with us is when we start to go downhill. I don’t need to worry about my own crew jumping-up and killing everyone in their sleep because they want out. Besides, we already have a damn job that we’ve signed for. Start breaking contracts now and people stop signing them with you.”


He turned his gaze over to the corner table in question. An Emyaar; a younger-looking female, had been the one talking. There was also a Gharryn, with that species always-colorful plumage, and a grouchy-looking human with dark hair. The Emyaar seemed to carry herself, and speak, as if she were the one in charge. Lucjan found that mildly surprising, given her age. But then, this was the Outer Rim, more or less his "home" for the past seventeen years. Not to mention I'm closer to fifty than forty. I've seen stranger things out here.

Clicking his tongue, a little idiosyncrasy of his that meant the Terran captain had come to a decision, Lucjan turned on his heel and approached the corner table, hands out wide so as to appear as open and nonthreatening as possible (not that his smaller frame put many in mind of a threat anyways). He came to a halt before the crew, and affixed his sharp, even gaze on the Emyaar, whom he was now nearly certain was in charge of this group, if not the captain.

"The name's Lucjan Vrana," he said. "I fly a Brigantine called the Farseer. We put in here from time to time, doing exploratory stuff mostly. That 'damn job' you're referring to wouldn't involve the Hourglass Cluster, would it? If it does, I might have a proposition."

Farseer makes preparations to get underway into Hourglass Cluster.
-350 Credits-

4x M22B Defender purchased (-60 Credits)
3x Irinur Combine T25-DEP purchased (-70 credits)
1x Armored Space Suit purchased (-70 credits)


-150 Credits remaining-
Formerly known as Mesrane (Mes), now I'm back
Joined April 2014

Go Cubs, Go!

User avatar
Zjaum
Senator
 
Posts: 3919
Founded: Oct 15, 2016
New York Times Democracy

Postby Zjaum » Mon Nov 18, 2019 9:02 am

Roai reentered the Pinnace. "Whew, lifting heavy things was fun! I'm itchy all over because of the cold, but I'm glad I did it! Thank you for letting me do that, Keyu."
Keyu was the one instructed to rip off the ceramic tiles, but Roai had insisted, and Keyu wasn't partial either way. "I'm glad I could make you happy, Keyu."
T'kra normally didn't do math, but cargo management was simple enough for her. "A Pinnance can carry twenty units of cargo. We have, oh, I'd say fifteen units brought in. That means..."
"We have six units left!" Roai exclaimed proudly.
Well, at least she was consistently stupid. "It's not worth it to have Roai refit again, go out, and get another plate."
"Of course, even that's assuming that all four of them could fit perfectly, which I doubt," stated Keyu. "Roai, could you fire up the engines for us?"
"Aw, man, now I have to cram into this tiny little cockpit again!"
Roai did her best to move into the poor seat, but T'kra had to get out of her chair and push Roai into her spot. The chair groaned at the weight and the awkward position, but it was the best that Roai could do. "All right, let's go!"

Action: Leave the planet, repeating the same maneuvers as before.
If Roai is skilled enough to already do this due to the prior success, or if the action is successful, the following story occurs:


The Pinnace left the planet at escape velocity. T'kra and Keyu kicked back as Roai tapped the home icon for Port Dusk. The trio zipped through space-time to reach their temporary home.
Once the ship landed, Keyu outstretched her arms. "It will be a little uncomfortable, but I'm going outside to stretch. Maybe I'll find a welder and hang out next to his furnace."
"Can I come too?" asked Roai.
"No, you already got your stretching in. Besides, I'm not fitting your behind back into that chair," answered Keyu.
T'kra didn't speak a word. She simply got out her cart, opened the cargo box, and started moving the plates onto it. She put her helmet on, lowered the cart onto the ground, and began to push.

"Welcome back, you unadventurous amazon stranger."
"Tura, Tearu'u." "Glory, one child."
"I thought you were going to the inner rim."
"Ovkoi A'aru'u-ai teryi." "My sisters do not say."
"Family matters, eh? Well, mouths to feed always put a hamper on things. So, what do you have for me now- oh, those aren't half bad. I might be able to actually sell these."
"Ovkoi weraiyi ter kratwi." "Do not say of place I obtained."

Assuming commodity price of 65 credits apiece. If that is not the case, Action: acquire prices for ceramic plating. If that is the case, the following story occurs:

"As per usual. But yeah, 60 credits apiece for these seem fine-"
"Twek-tak-ov." "Seventy."
"Aw, what the heck. 65, because you're a reliable customer, and as a preemptive parting gift if you do decide to got to the Inner Planets. So, that will put you at 195."
The man took a pile of chits, stuck them in a disposable bag, and handed them to the Werai. The Werai bowed, grateful for the offer and the credits. She went off with her cart to find a vendor who could repair her damaged Pinnace.
On the way, though, she passed a bank. The young female teller called out to her. "Hey, mister, mister!"
T'kra approached. "I found an account registered to a Werai. You're the only Werai I've seen, like, ever. I think these are yours." She handed the Werai credits. "We changed policies. Sorry, you don't have enough of a background for an account."
T'kra counted her credits. One hundred and fifty. This was almost as much as the run! She certainly didn't remember opening up a bank account. Maybe Keyu did. Regardless, she would have to discuss the matter with Keyu later.

Action: Find repair quotes for the Pinnace.
Action: Search for additional work.
Last edited by Zjaum on Mon Nov 18, 2019 11:21 am, edited 6 times in total.
I use my NationStates stats, because a population of billions/trillions and an economy of hundreds of trillions is totally viable, trust me.
But seriously, aside from the population and GDP, just assume that my NS stats are roughly accurate.

Support: Paleo-imperialism, conservatism, libertarianism, Christianity.
Against: Stupid people, resistance to industrial progress, alt-right, any form of government at or beyond socialism.

I hail from The League of Conservative Nations. Hearts unthawed, hearts unshaken!

Takaka Tar' Turayi,
The stars will be ours someday.

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Elerian
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 11356
Founded: Aug 31, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Elerian » Mon Nov 18, 2019 12:54 pm

Old Man, Rakodan


The mansion from his vision was both sad and imposing. The structure dominated the surrounding landscape, a testament to an old people, rising from the earth as strong as mountains. For perhaps the first time in decades, the sands surrounding the mansion were trodden anew. For better or worse this was where the paracasual had led him, and who knew what lay within.

But the place was sad, too. It must have been grand once, but now it was little more than a hulk of decaying stone, half buried in the sand. The imposing complex was greatly flawed. Its sun baked walls were cracked and irreparably scarred by time. It was a testament to the greatness that had once inhabited this world. Regardless of its implications, he was here now. He had been brought here by some otherworldly force to delve within.

Action: Find the Lab with the help of the Academics
Last edited by Elerian on Mon Nov 18, 2019 12:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
The National Dominion of Hungary
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1935
Founded: May 31, 2012
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The National Dominion of Hungary » Mon Nov 18, 2019 1:57 pm

Kyr Mirhorn Van

The doors slid open and the ducks stormed in, the pirates turned in their direction looked on in complete paralysis while those with their backs turned noticed even later, by that point it was too late for many of them. A furious storm of gunfire tore through the crew quarter and even if many of the ducks were so green they could have pissed grass, at this range it was very hard to miss. Surprised exclamations were drowned out by the ear-splitting noise of gunfire reverberating in the tight space, the screams of the dying were drowned out as well. None of the pirates around the table wore armor or carried shield generators and so the bullets, flechettes, plasma bolts and slugs tore through them with no difficulty. A mix of liliac, red and reddish-orange blood mixed with torn flesh and skin plastered the wall and seeped out on the floor as the Zorvishi, Ulthars and Humans in the room fell into a heap of bloodied bodies around the game table. While many carried pistols, none managed to react fast enough to draw one and return fire on the ducks, the only pirates who survived the withering fusillade was a squat Zorvishi and a heavily tattooed, red-headed Human who ran into the slave pens where their armed and armored comrades had already taken cover and begun returning fire on the ducks. Not that they hit them but they were probably just hoping to pin them down. They had little chance and they knew it even though they were armored, firing their plasma or laser pistols at the Dunkidor mercenaries. The loud noise made by their assault rifles and Kyr's mass accelerator had no doubt been heard throughout the ship and indeed, soon an alarm was blaring and red emergency lighting switched on. Kyr had to be quick and decisive if she wanted to complete the mission. If they delay, the pirates would gather their strength and be upon them. Or they'd seal off the slave pen and the rest of the crew quarters and depressurize the compartment where the ducks were. She needed to act, a charge at the pirates in the slave pen might be costly, she could try to flank them through the maintenance tunnel or the air-ducts, but that might take time the ducks don't have.

Skill-check: 83 - Large Success.
Skill-check: 37 - Small Failure.



Sakol Linyako

Bringing the equipment aboard, the crew were now determined to go and start their mission, the waiting and downtime were the hardest parts after all and among the ones that most negatively affected discipline, aye, boredom was always something to be avoided. As the crew spent their time loading various kinds of supplies and equipment they would need for their expedition into the ruins, Captain Linyako oversees their work but most times he leaves it to his first officer so he can focus on plotting a route for the ship to take. The system was in no-mans space, relatively close to the borders of the Pythean Star-Kingdom. It was good as that meant that it would probably be a lot safer to go there, as it was a system close to one of the galaxy's greater powers. Then again, what if the Pytheans knew of it? What if they had a presence there, a guarded research outpost mayhaps? The Pytheans were known to be an intensely curious race, they had accepted the mysteries of the universe as an intellectual challenge for them to overcome. They were not a warlike species like some others but they were more than ready and willing to fight if they found it needful. Sakol could certainly plot a course directly for the cluster that contained the system in question, he could however also make a short detour to one of the border-systems of the Star-Kingdom. The Haftir system was home to a small space-station, largely a frontier trading outpost on the edge of Pythean space where he could make some more purchases with his remaining funds if he so wished. Soon, the ship was ready for launch and the crew assembled, waiting for their captain's order.



Samuel Bridge Iron

As could be expected, the hospital's old acquisitions chief urged the trader to bring more medical supplies. Anything, everything but preferably surgical equipment and medicine aiding in surgical recovery. Alot of people had suffered wounds from gunshots, shrapnel and blunt trauma. Some went in and out of the OR's for follow-up procedures which all took a heavy toll on the gear, the supplies, the doctors and the nursing staff. Other than that, there was much else they needed. Some groups like Open Arms would pay well for prefab shelters, even tents, anything that could house people on the shortest possible notice. The planet had been a magnet for refugees from smaller colonies in the cluster and while Ylem had suffered significantly and lost many lives and much wealth, it's defenses had held and the pirates moved on to find easier pray in the cluster. Much of which was now moving to Ylem en-masse to escape the ravages of the pirate armada. The planetary authorities would pay handsomely for construction equipment to repair damaged buildings and infrastructure but they were only interested in large shipments, equally when it came to ammunition to resupply the planetary militia who expended a lot of their ammo to drive the pirates away. Of the way to Noctis, she had no clue, she was not a spacer. Sam would have to move along the regular shipping lanes, many were known to be dangerous but, hopefully, many of the pirates that used to camp near warp-gates along the way would have joined in the armada raiding local worlds. And there was as much opportunity as there was danger along those space-lanes. Lost wrecks adrift in the void, pirates and their victims alike could be found and some still had valuable supplies, equipment or cargo aboard ripe for the taking. Of course, searching for wrecks expended both fuel and time, without space-suits, it would be virtually impossible and Sam was on a deadline, perhaps it would be better to just make a beeline toward Port Noctis and unload his cargo, get his payment and buy some goods there. And perhaps hire some more crew. Even protection in the form of mercenaries to guard his precious ship and cargo.



Lucjan Vrana

It did not take long for the crew to load supplies aboard the Brigantine. The crew were glad to see that the captain had seen fit to purchase some equipment before they go. While hostile contact was unlikely behind a newly reactivated destination-gate it was not unheard of. There could be native species at some point of civilization, either stone-age hunter gatherers or maybe a race which had already mastered effective and cost-efficient interplanetary spaceflight, colonizing far and wide across their own home-system and researching a way to leave the light of their parent star and journey across the galaxy or anything in between, from iron-age empires to clashing lines of musket-wielding soldiers. In short, better safe than sorry, and if there were no hostile sentients, there was more than enough viciously murderous fauna in the galaxy to put who knows how many billions of starry-eyed explorers and overconfident colonist in early graves since the rise of interstellar space-travel. The crew was ready to get a move on and crank up that FTL-drive on their captains order, of course they could use some of the remaining credits to purchase more equipment and then, well, than it was time to head into the great unknown. To pass through a warp-corridors that only probes had gone through before. That rush of adrenaline seemed to fuel as many exploration vessels and helium and hydrogen did.



T'kra Tyawerai

Zipping away fast and low, the pinnace left the small, airless planetoid in the distance and made it's way into the voids, quickly setting it's course on a short trip to Port Dusk. Careful to avoid the route where they had unsuccessfully tried to attack a freighter and it's escort to avoid possible patrol craft in the area, the merchant could have been well-connected with local crime bosses and pirate commanders, it was impossible to know but it was best to be safe. The Werai managed to return to port unscathed and soon they made port, a large robotic arm locked the small ship in place at it's berth as the crew prepared to leave. Emerging into the narrow, neon-lit alleys of the station T'kra once more wheeled her little cart past the traders, spies, criminals and cultists that always meandered through the station. She moved through the districts of the station, which had a population of roughly five million all of whom must be housed within the port. From elaborate state rooms to simple berths and bunked quarters. She finally reached a familiar place and met with a familiar face. Once again, words were shared while credits and goods exchanged hands. He didn't ask, nobody here ever asked where you had obtained your goods, not unless they had a very good reason, mostly in the form of some ulterior motive. Granted, most everyone here did, some were just more ulterior than others. When she returned to her small crew, T'kra already had her work cut out for her. Port Dusk had extensive repair yards located underneath the station where skilled void-wrights could rectify damages caused by combat or accident. The station's repair facilities are varied, smaller ships but also ships the size of Frigates can be worked on in cavernous zero-G spacedocks that can be sealed against the void. The Werai soon found herself locked in conversation with a Gharryn clad in stained coveralls, he assured that her precious vessel would be given the very best of care, and for the low price of 300 credits for such minor damages. It looked like the Werai needed some time to think and the Gharryn gave her his contact to add to her hand-terminal, letting her know the offer still stands. Meanwhile, Keyu had gone for a drink at the The Blind Eye, a small but popular tavern which lies near the station's sunward shuttle bays, frequented by void travelers looking to do business. She was there for another purpose as well, and returned to the ship with an offer from the Fisher-King's a small local gang to transport a shipment of Blaze through the territory of the rivaling Skulle-Levies. They offered 350 credits for a job well-done.

Skill-Check: 85 - Fine Success


Leon Tchaikovsky

Leon gazed upon the lost beauty and soon T'Kess walked to the front and stared in awe at the ruined manor. "Marvelous." She said almost eerily. "Come, let us not wait around, there is work for us to do here. This is probably the home of a being of position and power, we can find to record of how their society functioned." She walked boldly forward, her timid assistants took deep breaths and steeled themselves before following their leader while the guard finished her phyrr-stick and threw the butt in the sand before walking on, taking position behind Leon who was now walking at the front of the group alongside the researcher. They stepped into the darkness and soon, flashlights illuminated the walls and glow-sticks spread pale light around them. The murals were faded but showed rows upon rows of ancient Rakodans, tall, thin, tentacles around their mouths. There was a scene of supplication before a finely clad Rakodan sat on a strange hovering chair. Perhaps the owner of this once grand home? Or an ancestor to that same owner? Leon could not quite tell. He walked along the wall, drawing his hand across it and coming away red with sand-dust. T'Kess was making notes on a datapad and one of her assistants had opened her pack and picked up a small crate, from it they took out a small drone and turned it on, letting it fly up toward the stone ceiling and it soon began to fly slowly along the walls, seemingly recording the murals. "Just a minute, we need to record this and then we'll go further inside." T'Kess said. Leon paced slowly forward, watching the faded artwork of the grand chamber, he listened with his sixth sense but the thrumming could not be heard, at least not for now. He felt a pull toward the inner halls and corridors, but no visions graced. He soon turned towards a strange, rhythmic, metallic sound echoing from somewhere in the blackness. Something was there! Or was him mind playing tricks on him? No! It was definitely there, it grew louder and now he could discern several sets of rhythmic sounds. Quickly returning to the T'Kess and her party, they all looked into the gloom, then they came. Rusty, filthy, dusty, but still walking. Three robots of some kind, humanoid in shape, with heads like discs on cylindrical bodies. Broken voiceboxes tried synthesizing words but they were far to decayed to make any sense, and even then, little was known of the Rakodan language. The machines stood there, trying to "speak", then they stood silent for a while. After that, they raised their right arms which lit up with red light, Leon immediately dove for cover as laser blasts came in their direction, soon joined by the surprised Ellyreans as the ancient battle-droids fired in the direction of the intruders.

Skill check: 41 - Small failure.


Last edited by The National Dominion of Hungary on Mon Dec 02, 2019 12:16 pm, edited 3 times in total.

Plotek i medialnych bredni nie daj sobie wmówić,
Codziennie się rozwijaj i nie daj się ogłupić,
Atakowi propagandy stawiaj czoło dzielnie,
Nie daj sobą sterować i myśl samodzielnie.


Mass Effect Andromeda is a solid 7/10. Deal with it.

User avatar
Ralnis
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 26592
Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Tue Nov 19, 2019 12:18 am

Kyr Mirhorn Van,
The Wicked Grin


As the sound of the ducks ambushing and bringing down the entire party was heard throughout the ship. It wasn't hard to miss, as the red emergency light mixed with the orange from the party. The massacre was a scene some of the new duck recruits weren't use to but never had time to register what they had as two pirates had survived and went into the pens with the three guards to try and fire in their direction. Kyr spurred them into action by flipping the table and getting them into cover as plasma and laser bolts were shot against the steel of the ship and the table.

The smell of alien blood and impacted steel filled the nostrils of the chieftain who realized that the shots were wide and off mark most of the time. At best they were trying to suppress the ducks as they realized that trying to hit one of her clan was not possible. Maybe it was that they were shock? Maybe they were just bad shots or was it because of the range of their weapons? Whatever the case that wasn't the problem, the problem was that they were even more pressed for time.

Two things were probably going to happen if she took to long. One, the pirates that in the top section could be upon them and if there's twenty on the ship that there's at least four that can pounce on the ducks. Or two, they could seal off the compartment of the deck her and her clan were in and kill them like that. That means she had to think fast as it could be seconds before either of the two were going to happen.

It only seemed that one answer was going to be the best choice. They would have to attempt a charge into the slave pens. Already in the short battle was stacked in their favor as they already took out the numbers advantage and have them on the defensive. The clan already had the guns to pull if off and the momentum to add the pressure upon them. There was also the issue that they just don't have the time to try anything fancy nor needed to do so.

She reloaded her rifle underneath the volleys of crackshots that try to keep them under cover. She started to bark her orders as the clan prepared their next move.

Action:Charge at the pirates into the slave pens. Have the rifles focus not on pressure but on burst rounds to aim and kill the pirates. Kyr is in the back with Zax to use her superior aiming and the rifle's penetration to give support against the charge. Try to do this as quickly as possible as they need get the slaves out of there and away from the Grin before the pirates come upon them.

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The Empire of Tau
Minister
 
Posts: 2362
Founded: Dec 19, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Empire of Tau » Tue Nov 19, 2019 10:25 am

Merchant Man, Sam
Bounty Hunting is a Complex Profession


I’m pressed for time as of now. I’ll just post my actions. I’ll try to edit in post, if I can. For now, Sam is going to find a merc. He is willing to pay upwards to 400 credits or so. An escort to Port Notics. After that, if allowed, Sam then shall yeet himself to Port Notics because he has a deadline to meet and if Sam can’t make the deadline then no credits for him.
Last edited by The Empire of Tau on Wed Nov 20, 2019 12:02 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Elerian
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 11356
Founded: Aug 31, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Elerian » Tue Nov 19, 2019 11:45 pm

Old Man, Rakodan


“Shit” was all he could say before everything went pear-shaped.

He crept away with all the grace of an arthritic geriatric so that he could put distance between himself and the droids. He was tempted to try and slip away, further into the mansion so that he could get away from the Eilearians. However, something within him told him they may still be useful. That, and he didn’t know if there were more of these robots deeper within. He had no weapon save for his mind and who knew how effective that would be against security robots, or whatever they were.

When he finally stopped, he was no more than a dozen meters distant from the nearest droid. The expedition guards had lost track of him, and was now focused on the more immediate threat that the robots posed. Once again, he was tempted by the idea that maybe he could utilize the paracasual to tear asunder everything in this hallway. Freeing him of any of his own immediate danger, but psionics are fickle, and he knew not whether he could pull off such a feat. The power of this place surely meant that his psionics would be more powerful, but that could also mean that he’d bury them all in rubble.

Opting to try and just destroy the robots, he readied his mind for a psionic blast, targeted at the robots down the hallway.

Action: Incapacitate or otherwise destroy the robots with Psionics
Last edited by Elerian on Tue Nov 19, 2019 11:46 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Zjaum
Senator
 
Posts: 3919
Founded: Oct 15, 2016
New York Times Democracy

Postby Zjaum » Thu Nov 21, 2019 8:55 am

Keyu returned. She was itching all over. "Confound it all, there's nothing I wouldn't do to sit in a pot of boiling water right about now. My skin feels so awful."
"Hey, at least you're able to scratch it!" countered Roai. "I'm stuck in this tiny chair!" She wiggled her seat around, the poor metal beneath her straining to keep upright. "I can't even move my arms!"
T'kra entered the cockpit. "Keyu, did you invest some of our money in a bank?"
Keyu scratched her back. "Yes, I did. Fail-safe money. Plus, they give good returns on investment, at least relatively, out here. Why do you ask?"
T'kra held up the bag of credits. "They cancelled our account, because of shady backgrounds. We almost lost this money."
"Oh, that feels quite good. But we didn't. No harm, no foul, right? We should be used to taking risks at this point."
"Never do that again. Do you know how easy it would be to track us down? Any hacker could trace us instantly with our transactions. Would you appreciate a fleet on our tail?"
Keyu had moved to her belly. "Like I said, risks."
T'kra shook her head. "Keep scratching your torso and see how much you enjoy being uncomfortable. That's life with too much risk."
Keyu responded. "I found a job."
"Good, because I wasn't able to find any through the regular venues."
"You couldn't find any through the safe venues. There's a local gang called the Fisher Kings. They want us to smuggle some drugs for them. '350 credits for a job well done,' he said."
"What's a Fisher?" Roai asked.
Keyu smirked. "I'm guessing it's someone who fishes."
T'kra countered. "What does 'fish' mean, then?"
"Oh, I don't know. So, did you figure out how much it would cost to fix our ship?"
"I got a price quote. It would take all of our earnings, and this." She held up the bag of credits. "We would have forty credits, when all is said and done."
"Honestly, we feel closer to just buying a new ship," stated Keyu. "I know we're not, but it feels that way. Let's see how we feel about it after this run."
"But we've never smuggled things, at least things that are this dangerous, before. Can we even hide it in the cargo bay?"
"I think so. I don't think it will last a second on Irewa, but we've stolen a few things that haven't. You've got a weapon. Roai can dodge, and I can sweet-talk. We've got enough fail-safes to keep this venture going."
"...All right. After this, though, let's try at least one incursion into the Inner Planets."
Keyu sighed. "Fine. We'll see your precious inner planets, if that will shut you up."

Action: Load the Blaze onto the ship. Embark. I presume that you have a checkpoint system in mind, or at least some obstacle, so reach that checkpoint and/or obstacle.
I use my NationStates stats, because a population of billions/trillions and an economy of hundreds of trillions is totally viable, trust me.
But seriously, aside from the population and GDP, just assume that my NS stats are roughly accurate.

Support: Paleo-imperialism, conservatism, libertarianism, Christianity.
Against: Stupid people, resistance to industrial progress, alt-right, any form of government at or beyond socialism.

I hail from The League of Conservative Nations. Hearts unthawed, hearts unshaken!

Takaka Tar' Turayi,
The stars will be ours someday.

User avatar
The National Dominion of Hungary
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1935
Founded: May 31, 2012
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The National Dominion of Hungary » Thu Nov 21, 2019 2:31 pm

Kyr Mirhorn Van

Forward! The ducks lay down a hail of fire at the pirates stuck in the pens, who returned fire as best they could but with two assault rifles, the duck had an advantage in firepower, forcing them to stay behind cover much of the time. Kyr's battle rifle was perfect to take down the shields on the guards´ armor, a few accurate bursts sounding like flurries of metallic whip-cracks as her accelerator propelled the ultra-low caliber projectiles forward at hypersonic speeds. The pirates shields flickered as they were hit, with their unarmored comrades only occasionally sticking out their pistols and firing blindly in the general direction of their assailants, hoping against hope to suppress them until help could arrive. Kyr ordered her ducks to charge and so they did, those with pistols advancing as she and her assault-rifle armed compatriots lay down covering fire. They succeeded, almost. The unarmored pirates were suppressed, and the assaulting ducks managed to go forward, getting an angle and killing them with a few bursts from a plasma carbine. Then, two of the armored pirates popped out of cover, firing their pistols as their energy shields flared when they were hit. The ducks were not shielded and the lead Dunkidor mercenary took a lasblast to the chest, he was dead by the time he hit the floor. Kyr's killed one of the armored pirates with three precise bursts and her ducks killed the other one firing wildly with their assortment of weapons, finally penetrating his shields and armor. The last of the pirates rose from cover and fired wildly at the duck, one of his plasma bolts struck a Dunkidor fighter off his feet before the pirate was killed by a flurry of fire. The terrified screams of the slaves who were cowering in their cages still resounded shrill and high, even as the sounds of gunfire subsided. One of Kyr's fighters called out after running to the second of the duck to be shot, he was still alive but he needed treatment for his injuries, though the downed man assured he was fine, clutching a bad burn-would on his abdomen surrounded by singed feathers. The slaves were still terrified, the alarm was still blaring loudly and more pirates were probably on their way. They had to get the slaves out, and if they wanted to risk it they could try to loot the bodies. They had to go fast. Otherwise they might get cut off inside the corvette and cut to pieces in a deadly crossfire.

Skill check: 54 - Small Success
1 Crew killed. 1 Crew moderately wounded.



Samuel Bridge Iron

Alas and alack, not all of the pirates in the surrounding clusters had joined up with the armada. A good number were still prowling the stars and clusters along Samuel's path toward the dark heart of the Outer Rim. A few times too many was he forced to cut his engine and hide in the sensor-shadow of a planet or an asteroid. He had to use nothing but the ship's maneuvering thrusters to escape a wicked pirate-ship that had chased them into an asteroid belt as an engine burn would have lit them up on every sensor in the system. By the time that Sam had finally arrived at Noctis he had not managed to keep on time, he was only a few days late, but still, it was late. A tall and spindly ulthar whose contact he had been given when accepting the mission was not happy, arriving with three well armed and armored ulthars at the club that had been chosen as the meeting spot, he refused to pay any more than 1600 credits in an angry tirade. It was not the full sum, but it was still a large sum for Sam. Then again, Sam could try to get a better price for the aircars on his own before the ulthars come to collect their goods. Then again, perhaps it was best not to cross these people, who knew what funds, resources and connections they had? And out on Port Noctis, the only safety was the one you bought. Perhaps it was best to just fulfill the contract and try to get a good deal on some other goods here as well as buy some more equipment for the crew, maybe even hire some extra hands? He was at the heart of the Outer Rim, a station known as a great galactic hub of narcotics, weapons, and mictharium trafficking without even a pretense of either a civilian government or military control. Only mercenary groups and criminal gangs have been able to instill a limited order controlling various parts of the station and turf-wars are far from uncommon. Any trader knew that Noctis was a place where almost anything can be bought if one has enough creds and knows who to ask.

A Dangerous Route: 45 - Small Failure



Leon Tchaikovsky

The human focused and felt himself drift, the frightened screams of the research assistants, the lasblasts fired by the battle-droids and the return fire sent in their direction by the expedition guard did little to break his concentration. This was not the first time he had used his sixth sense in battle, indeed, in far larger battles where more than seventy ships were at his command. He had rallied them, reinforced their will and hardened their brutality when needed. Now he was reaching out with a battle incant to destroy these ancient combat robots that had assailed them. Maybe then the guards would no longer keep him under their constant watch so they could actually keep an eye out for any more hidden traps and automated defenders. His body shook and he rose to his feet with a violent jerk, eyes shooting open and blazing with light as he hovered a tad off the ground crackling with ethereal energy. Lasers were fired in his direction but something in the Beyond had reached out and surrounded him with a protective barrier. As he felt the mighty energies course through him, he bent them to his control, feeling their ebbs and flows. With a mighty shout he threw his hands toward the hostile droids and lightning arced from his fingers, striking the old machines and frying their circuitry in one fell swoop. They fell into a rusty heap with loud metallic clangs and lay there, unmoving. Leon slowly drifted back to the ground, exhausted, bleeding from his nose but very much alive even after such a display of paracasual force. The Ellireans looked at the dirty, ragged human with a mix of fear, awe and respect. They had been outgunned and in one swoop he had come to their rescue, if any of them had eny doubt that he had been untruthful in describing himself as a psionic, their doubts had been laid to rest along with the old machines.

Skill check: 92 - Great Success!



T'kra Tyawerai

A small shipment that could easily be hidden in the pinnace's smuggling compartment the 10 batches of Blaze were taken aboard handily and kept aboard the Werai ship while T'kra and her crew conducted their preparations. They needed to map out the porous borders of the Skulle-Levy, a mostly human gang operating out of their stronghold in the Tuhi District, nothing like the larger gangs around these small flies rarely garnered much attention from the station's notoriously corrupt militia who could easily be bought with some credits. There was a certain level of organization to the Levy that T'kra had not expected from a street gang. They operated under a pseudo-militaristic hierarchy serving their head-honcho, the so-called King Skulle. After much observation the three Werai finally chose to act, picking a time when Skulle invited his lieutenants to his "palace" to partake in the fruits of their labor. Some of the members would still very much be keeping an eye on the Tuhi district, but T'kra had spent much time walking the streets and getting to know their spots. Humans, like most species were creatures of habit. Once more, T'kra rolled with her little cart, seemingly wheeling nothing but a few innocent boxes of hand-terminals to some local electronics store. Her crew-members kept their distance as to not draw too much attentions and while some of the local mobsters looked sideways at her, none had tried to stop her and check what she was up to. Yet, there was still some time before she was out of Tuhi and could enter Dori where her contacts were supposed to wait.

Skill check: 69 - Small Success.



Plotek i medialnych bredni nie daj sobie wmówić,
Codziennie się rozwijaj i nie daj się ogłupić,
Atakowi propagandy stawiaj czoło dzielnie,
Nie daj sobą sterować i myśl samodzielnie.


Mass Effect Andromeda is a solid 7/10. Deal with it.

User avatar
The Empire of Tau
Minister
 
Posts: 2362
Founded: Dec 19, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Empire of Tau » Fri Nov 22, 2019 10:14 am

Merchant Man, Sam
Buying Shit


You can smell that? It’s profit. The trade runs went better than he had imagined, especially with the dangers of the outer-rim. An unhappy Ulthar was the least of Sam’s problems. In the end, Sam got a decent pay for the late delivery. A win for Sam in his books. The only con was a grumpy Ulthar. An irrelevant consequence in the grand scheme of things. Now that Sam Actually has a decent amount of credits to use, 2590 creds, after expenses added in. Port Noctis was a like a candy shop, but for traders, mercenaries, criminals, etc. Anything, or one, could be sold and bought. Sam loved this. Nothing was illegal. Everything was up for grabs. Sam just had to find what he wanted and then buy it. Of course, Sam was still cash-strapped. He had to carefully use his newly found credits. So, Sam went off to the various market zones of Noctis to find a few items for the ship.

Port Noctis was really like the slums of Qharlaq. Sam was right at home. What else can he ask for? Everything was here. You had the brutal turf wars between rival gangs and cartels. Radical tensions and the occasional lynching. Rape alleys, drug peddlers, prostitutes, questionable boot-leg cyberware shops, unlicensed doctors, casual violence, terrorist cells, etc. The list goes on. The only real difference was that Port Noctis was in space meanwhile Qharlaq was a whole city-planet. Besides from that, the same old atmosphere of social unrest and the utter degrading nature of the Port was exactly characteristic of Qharlaq. Sam would have no issue in fitting in. But Sam was not here to enjoy the scenery. Sam had four things on his shopping list. First, a better sensor array, Second, a sensor jamming system. Third, more crew. Lastly, ammo to sell at Ylem.

Sam just had to find the people that sells that kind of stuff. How hard can that be? There were people openly selling slave workers, drugs, bombs, and the occasional nuclear warhead. Sam needed to compare the prices of various sellers. You can never trust a person out here in a place like this. Scamers and con-artists are always on the lookout for potential fools. Sam has to have a keen-eye for that. That was all Sam had to do on the Port. Nothing else was that Sam could do. He wanted to get out of his place as fast as possible. The longer he stays, the more danger and whack shit he has to encounter.
Last edited by The Empire of Tau on Fri Nov 22, 2019 10:18 am, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
Ralnis
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 26592
Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Fri Nov 22, 2019 12:16 pm

Kyr Mirhorn Van,
The Wicked Grin


The ducks had managed to secure the slaves, who were screaming in their force cages. Kyr and her ducks try to calm them down but she wasn't the most charismatic alien in the galaxy. It was Zax, who had a plasma burn in his chest in order to get them to understand that they were hired to save them.

A child asked if they were the good guys and Kyr just chuckled.

"As long as we are getting paid kid."

The answer wasn't the greatest but the slaves knew that these ducks were their saviors as of right now. The ducks blasted the locks to open up the force cages and all twenty-one of the slaves were accounted for. Now that the hard part was generally done now comes the other hard part. With the alarm going off and the pirates closing in they had to leave right now.

Gathering the people and protecting their flanks as best they can the ducks started their dash out of the ship.

Action: Have the ducks escort the slaves off the ship as best they can. Kyr in the rear and the two assaults in the front with Zax with Kyr.

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The National Dominion of Hungary
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1935
Founded: May 31, 2012
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The National Dominion of Hungary » Sun Nov 24, 2019 12:16 pm

Kyr Mirhorn Van

Go! Move! The slaves were shaken from their daze and soon clambered out of their cages as the dunkidor mercenaries opened them, tearful reunions between loved ones kept in separate cages were cut short by Kyr's bark at the slaves to get ready to make a run for it. The dunkidor corralled them into a somewhat amorphous mob between them in order to keep the slaves together. If they broke off into small groups they would probably be recaptured before they even leave the docking berth and subjected to the tender mercies of a pirate captain known for his outbursts of rage. They were afraid but even in this state had the sense to realize that these mercs were their best shot at survival. So they set off past the pile of bodies in the crew-quarters, there was no time for looting for they had to get the slaves out, if it came to a gunfight, trying to keep them from running off in all directions would be hard, no, more like impossible. Quickly running through the corvettes hallways they didn't seem to come across any pirates. A blessing in disguise perhaps as they had gone go get themselves properly armed and armored from the ship's armory, in which case who knew how many heavily equipped and bloodthirsty pirates could soon be after them. Be that as it may, they ran for their lives, slaves and mercenaries alike. And unaccosted as they were they quickly reached the cargo bay where open ramps led to the berth and an open door into the winding streets of the station's dockyards. Kyr's vanguard reported the berth to be all clear. But then Zax who kept watch down the corridor came running, breathless. Kyr soon heard why. A dozen? Two dozen even?! Armored feet stomped down the hallway in a fast cadence and bloody curses with imaginative swearing could soon be heard as the mercenaries and slaves only had a few moments to run before the pirates would catch sight of them. And what if those pirates who had been out were already on their way back? If so best hope they had gone out to party unarmed, slim chance but hope is the last thing to leave a sentient before life does.



Samuel Bridge Iron

In this den of thieves, slavers and normal folk trying to eek out a living. Sam was truly in his element as vendors hawked things that were immensely difficult to get in the civilized galaxy ruled by the greater powers. Here there were no powers, now laws expect the one bought by enough credits and enforced through the barrels of hired guns. It was quite homey for someone who had crawled out of the forgotten Underslums of Qharlaq. With his newfound wealth, he had set about planning the next tasks meticulously and personally walked the void-dock of the station, speaking to void-mechanics running their dry-docks. The upgrades would be costly, a new Sensor-System would cost around 600 credits, a Jammer could go up to 1000 creds, but it would make his ship much harder to spot as long as they didn't fire up their engines. In the meantime his crewmen descended into the station's dockside bars and cantinas which were always awash with spacers down on their luck and looking for work. They posted notes on the holoboards outside the bars, they drummed up conversation and Sam posted notices on the extranet. As the days went by, four people showed up on the due-date when Sam had decided he would meet prospective new crewmates. They came one by one, first was a grizzled Emyaar man scarred by scorchmarks on his face from an unfortunate accident while maintaining a ship. The second is a tall Zorvishi bragging about his prowess in battle, the third is a young, seemingly silent human man with an impressively large and bushy mustache for his age. After him came a dark-haired human woman speaking in a refined Centrum-native accent, her hands gave her away, cybernetic arms, she was an aug fleeing persecution by the radical Blessed Empire. They all wanted 35 credits as a downpayment for enlistment, making 140 credits in total. Then came what same thought of as most interesting, the markets. Having set his sights on shipping arms to Ylem he checked the local nets for opportunity and Noctis was a goldmine. Weapons and armor of all shapes and sizes could be bought, his eyes fell on crates (each one taking up 6 units of cargo) full of energy-cells for plasma weapons which stood at 800 credits per crate or a crate of simple body armor in the form of cuirasses for 1000 credits which would take up 25 units of cargo space. Now, it has up to him to decide what to spend on.



Plotek i medialnych bredni nie daj sobie wmówić,
Codziennie się rozwijaj i nie daj się ogłupić,
Atakowi propagandy stawiaj czoło dzielnie,
Nie daj sobą sterować i myśl samodzielnie.


Mass Effect Andromeda is a solid 7/10. Deal with it.

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Elerian
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 11356
Founded: Aug 31, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Elerian » Sun Nov 24, 2019 1:26 pm

Old Man, Rakodan


He smiled, swayed, and touched his face. Feeling something warm and wet. Blood. He was bleeding from his nostrils. Falling to one knee he began to breathe heavily. That electrical technique of Psionic lightning was dangerous, and he had not mastered it by any means, it very well could have killed someone less experienced than he. Gulping as blood from his bleeding nose began to decorate the floor, the old man breathed heavily. His chest and back rising and falling with the labor of pumping air into and out of his lungs.

It would take him several minutes to recover, but the threat of the robots was at least over now. He looked up for a moment to see if any of his new companions were injured, and was greeted with looks of fear and awe. In their time as academics and contract security they were unlikely to have seen a Psionic in the heat of battle like what they had just experienced. Yet, fighting the enemy face to face wasn’t exactly his forte. In times past, he had used his Psionics to great effect, turning the tide of fleet battles.

“Give me some time, then we can find what you seek. Perhaps those droids may be of some interest to you in the meantime”

Action: Find the Ancient Lab

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The Empire of Tau
Minister
 
Posts: 2362
Founded: Dec 19, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Empire of Tau » Sun Nov 24, 2019 11:29 pm

Merchant Man, Sam
Brought Shit and Going to back to Ylem


The next few days would be busy. Sam had to get his stuff ready and organized for when he heads back to Ylem. First was the mechanical upgrades to his Suvura 3300. The void-mechanics told Sam of the hefty prices for the jammer and sensor package. While expensive, Sam saw good value in the instalment of these systems. Better safe than sorry. The outer-rim is no game to be played around with. Sam had it lucky that he was just late for his delivery. Things could have turned out worse if fate wanted it so. Sam knew that leaving anything up to chance was not a good idea. So, Sam coughed up the 1600 credit price tag for both systems, the sensor-array and jammer. If the pirates can not see you then no-one can chase after you. What pirate would bother to hunt down a stealthy ship - if there are other fish in the sea.

Four people showed up to Sam’s call. Not a surprise as plenty of people in Notics don’t have the luxury of credits or a good social-network to call upon. Sam had no issue in the hirement of four more extra crewmen. 140 credits in total paid, what a deal for more helping hands. Extra diversity is welcome too. You had a crispy Emyaar man, a tough Zorvishi, a normal man with an impressive mustache, and prosecuted garl. What’s not to like? As long they got along with each other then everything should be fine.

Lastly, Sam had to buy the cargo-goods to ship back to Ylem. The plasma-cells were the only option left to Sam that seemed reasonable to buy out of the many listings of ammo that he found. With the leftover credits, Sam brought only one create. In the end, Sam had 50 credits to his name. Which was fine to Sam. You gonna spend money to make money. Not much else could be done on Notics. Sam was out of creds and if you don’t have creds out in a place like this then you have no business being here. With everything in check and in order, Sam turned on the Suvura 3300 and headed off to Ylem.
Last edited by The Empire of Tau on Sun Nov 24, 2019 11:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Ormata
Senator
 
Posts: 4546
Founded: Jun 30, 2016
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Ormata » Mon Nov 25, 2019 4:58 am

Me'lek Tsualn, CO of Cortez
Fiyarro, Sathas


"The name's Lucjan Vrana," he said. "I fly a Brigantine called the Farseer. We put in here from time to time, doing exploratory stuff mostly. That 'damn job' you're referring to wouldn't involve the Hourglass Cluster, would it? If it does, I might have a proposition."


She kept her eyes on him, though for obvious reasons it wasn’t necessary to look him up and down as thoroughly as usual. After all, Tsualn had already done so. He looked older, that close up, old enough for a human. Of course, the unmistakable bulge in the clothing suggested the guy was armed, but that didn’t worry her. It’d be three to one, her favor, and besides that fact Fix made a gesture in return. He leaned just a bit back in his seat like it’d been a hard day at work, one hand still on his bottle as he took a swig. His other hand drifted down, subtle, over his stomach. Right next to his holster, which of course was hidden. It was nice and subtle, nice and easy. Of course, it was nice that he’d been the one to approach her, talk to her, that sort of thing instead of just going straight to the corps. She did need a few escorts.

He said it was a Brig, probably a Yodos-Class judging by the sorts of ships people liked to fly. It was smaller, though that sort of ship would be useful alongside the shuttle they had. Besides, having a heavier ship that could actually land planetside was good enough for her. She didn’t like to deploy the shuttle on the more dangerous surveys, considering that a crash with that ship would be as deadly as could be. It’d complicate everything.

“Captain Tsualn, Cortez. I think we can do business.”




Me'lek Tsualn, CO of Cortez
Hourglass Cluster


Sucking her teeth, Tsualn thought things over. Of course, the first system which held six worlds, designated System A, was most likely to have the sort of materials and metals necessary to make the area profitable. It simply had the most orbital bodies that could hold something interesting, something that’d be worth cash to the UIAX-offfice. The second system, System B, was a little less likely with five bodies but could still turn something precious. The last system, System C, was by far the most interesting of the three. With only four bodies, it had some sort of energy signature emanating from it. That could be worth the money. It could also be worth a hell of a lot of danger. Her mind ran through the likely possibilities, one thing or another. It could be a neutron star, though a visual read should’ve told that one way or another. It could be a black hole, though that would mean not a single planetary body would be in the system. It could be some sort of stranger star, something outside usual classifications that, by one means or another, was giving off some radiation. That hadn’t been unheard of. Hell, it could be a massive as hell mineral deposit that was doing the same thing. The last option, and probably the most dangerous, was that it was some sort of civilization with a station in orbit, some cruisers, that sort of thing. That would be deadly. They had to establish that the area wouldn’t be deadly, that some natives weren’t going to give them trouble. If there were natives.

Tsualn really hoped there wouldn’t be.

Clicking her comms circuit on, the Captain said, “Farseer, standby for jump orders. Cortez, out,” before then clicking that same thing off. Sighing, she looked about on the cramped bridge.

“Try to get a lock on that signature. Figure out as much as we can.”

Action: Cortez attempts scan of unknown energy signature.

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Ralnis
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 26592
Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Mon Nov 25, 2019 9:50 am

Kyr Mirhorn Van

The sound of two dozen armed and armored pirates was something that was the warning the chieftain didn't want to hear and didn't know that they still had that number. What she believed to be forty now seemed more than sixty till she killed a third of their number. However Zax gave a good distance to their rush against them. The vanguards gave the all clear and that was all that was needed. Kyr directed the masses out of the hangar of the pirates but to what direction?

The bar and clubs of this spire would have the pirates coming back from their escapades and that isn't good. They maybe lightly armed compared to the pirates coming after them but they couldn't take the risk. They needed off the spire and away from the pirates that could close in on the blob of people and the ducks corralling them.

Kyr told Zax for the client to meet them at the location provided to which both can do the transfer and complete the contract. After that it was there they can figure out how to deal with the kickback from fighting a pirate gang that's more than several times their size. The thing is that the ducks needed to get to said spot and that's going to need some work all by itself.

Actions: Start running away from the hangar and evade well-known places where the pirates or other large groups would go to. Contact the client on hand terminal and set up a meeting place where the contract can be completed.

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Ness Alquam
Civil Servant
 
Posts: 9
Founded: Nov 12, 2019
Ex-Nation

Postby Ness Alquam » Wed Nov 27, 2019 8:01 am

Sakol Linyako
Fiyarro, Sathas

"We have a choice, people. Do we prepare ourselves before making landfall or should we just go directly to the site?" Sakol asks while looking at the rest of the crew gathered in the meeting room of the Starbringer. The crew was sitting in chairs around one large table while Sakol stands on one side of the table pointing his crew attention to a board he had set up. On the board was a star map of the galaxy with the location of ruins circle with a yellow marker while a red question mark hovers over where the Haftir system was.

"Are we expecting trouble at the exploration site, captain?" Margon interjects.

"There is a possibility of conflict due to the coordinates being close to the Pythean Star-Kingdom inviting the possibility that the Pytheans might have a research outpost at the location. And there is also a possibility that the Pytheans won't be so keen to see us which would require us to take the outpost by force if it exists."

"That's a lot of possibilities, Captain. Are we basing this whole operation on chance? Either way, if such an outpost exists, I believe we are well-equipped to handle anything right now." Krel comments while leaning back in his chair. "I mean after all it is Pytheans. What are they going to do? Quiz us to death."

"I prefer we try to stray away from the prospect of killing Pytheans. While I don't care much for the people such an action will cause a crisis as this ship and crew is legally under the ownership of the Union." a new voice chirp in which Sakol attach to their Union liaison, Helvas Cerno, who despite their occupation was dressed in a mercenary outfit consisting of brown leather jacket over his black standard issued Union shirt with black combat pants and black boots.

"Well, we could disguise our signal and get rid of any Union markings to make the attack look like a pirate attack" Nisuri replies which causes the crew to look at her. "I mean if we are being committed to this whole taking of this outpost that possibly exists, might as well plan a way to avoid diplomatic repercussions."

"But we still have to verify with Union command to get permission to engage," Helvas says.

"Or following Nisuri's train of thought and if they find us, make sure no one and any communication escape to secure our identity. Even if they do get a message out we can wring the story that makes the Pytheans look like they were the ones who engaged us giving the Union an easy casus belli against the Pytheans to secure their interests." Krel says.

"What you are talking about so easily, is galactic treason in which the whole galaxy will view the Union as a bunch of warmongers!" Helvas shouts while standing up.

"In all fairness Helvas, is this now serving the greater good of the Union who is searching for opportunities to expand their territory?" Sakol calmly asks while Helvas ponder the idea before sitting back down again. "In any case, I suggest we prep a fireteam accompany me when we reach our location and we will address the issue there. If there is a research outpost, we will take by force as Pytheans will already have information about the site that we can just take. The plan if there is a research outpost; we will be diplomatic at first to ease the Pytheans portraying us as venturing explorers while some of the crew will locate the commns area of the ship and disable it. While the comms team is doing their job, I want crew members targeting the weak points of the ship so we can cripple as much of the station as possible before we have to get in a firefight. One such primary target will be the air scrubbers on the ship that means everybody boarding the space research outpost will need to have spacesuits. If that target can't be accomplished I want the power of the outpost to go dark in order to give us as much of advantage as possible. And in order to do this, we will make a short detour to purchase more combat equipment." In which Sakol points at the red question mark on the board. "Is this agreeable?"

"Certainly is, Captain. We can lower the priority on the comms in reason of them finding our identity but we should still prioritize in case of Pytheans release a distress signal to one of their combat ships." Ifele adds. "But if everything goes to a bucket, can we contact a Union ship for aid, Helvas."

"I have to see but in most cases, Union won't send reinforcements for a non-backed Union decision." Helvas replies

"But if we so happened to tip off a Union ship to the area of the research outpost and portray our distress call as a cry for help. Will they come." Nisuri asks.

"In most cases, Union ships would respond to such distress call but where is the honor in triggering a diplomatic crisis?" Akuske answers.

"Even I have to see this crisis can benefit the Union if we play our cards properly, Akuske. We have been looking for new territory to claim and even we don't want the territory we can assert our position on the galaxy by showing that Union is willing to protect their explorers from other galactic nations." Margon comments. "And if we are lucky enough we can get Pytheans to forfeit their claims on Builder ruins in no-mans space. Then we can get back to the simple explorations."

"I want to maximize our chance of success so we will be making a stop in the Haftir system to purchase some equipment and find out as much information as we can about this research outpost that has a possibility of existing," Sakol interjects. "So we will be making a detour. All those in favor say aye." In which all the crew except Akuske and Helvas say aye before both of them let out a weak aye. "All those against say nay" In which Sakol was greeted with silence.

"In such a case, I want all crew to man their stations and the ship launching within the hour," Ifele commands.

One hour later

"Launching in t-minus 3.....2.....1......We have liftoff" Krel tells the crew on the bridge.

Action:The Starbringer travels to the space station in the Haftir system where Sakol purchases 2 Personal Shields and 2 Space Suits. Also, Sakol tries to find out at the station if the rumors of the outpost are true and if it does exist any information that would help him in his assault.

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The National Dominion of Hungary
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1935
Founded: May 31, 2012
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The National Dominion of Hungary » Wed Nov 27, 2019 3:29 pm

Leon Tchaikovsky

Leon sat down for a minute, which later turned into several minutes. He wasn't as young as he once had been after all and battle-incants had never been his strongest suit. Indeed, Leon even surprised himself as he recovered from his display of psionic power. It seemed the Ellireans were no longer as suspicious of him, the guard was now directing her focus toward the dark, scanning the grand hall with a flashlight mounted on the rifle. One of T'Kess´assistants was standing over the metal mess that had been attacking them not too long ago and scanned the destroyed Rakodanian droids for data on element composition in the alloys it was built with, electrical schematics, weapon yields and more while the drone was still busy scanning and recording the fading murals on the walls. Before long, Leon rose once more with a deep breath, still in some pain but ready to move on and what whatever he had been led here to find, whatever still hid deep in the dark halls of the ruined manor. As he made ready to continue, T'Kess told two of her assistants to remain with the guard and record what they could. One of her assistants would go with her and Leon as they ventured further inside. The leader of the Ellirean expedition took off her rucksack and dug out a laser pistol from it's depths before heaving it over her shoulder again. They wished the remaining expedition members good luck and went further into the darkness led by the light of their flashlights. They passed through grand columned hallways where light and sand seeped in through holes in the roof and rooms where the walls and ceilings were run through with cracks, Leon wondered how much longer this place would stand as he made his way through the halls as if guided by an inner compass. They reached a large room closed by a pair of heavy doors, they searched for a way to open them for hours and for a moment Leon was at a loss, but then T'Kess finally found a small access panel which still had power, running on some closed system. The scientist managed to go around the lock and with a terrible noise made by ancient machinery reluctantly grinding forward, the doors slid open, revealing an elevator shaft and an elevator which would take them further down into the depths. After they had descended, they found themselves in a foul-smelling cellar. Dark stains could be seen on the floor as were thousands of dusty containers of what Leon assumed was the ancient Rakodan equivalent of wine of khiafa. After searching for a while they found a door, but as they were about to open it, they heard the unmistakable clangor of mechanical movement, dark shapes walked steadily forward in the gloom, six battle-droids strode in, rotted with rust but power remaining in their mechanical limbs. Six of them there was, and they seemed much sturdier than the ones they had faced above, the small group immediately took cover as a volley of laser fire came their way.



Samuel Bridge Iron

It took several days for the Void-Wrights of Noctis to fit the new systems in to Samuel's small freighter in order to make sure the ship would fly through the voids and skies safe and sound afterward. The systems were not of the best quality available, but for the Outer Rim they were quite decent for the captain of a small freighter trying to find his fortune in the Rim. The time also gave Sam's new recruits some time to settle in and get to know their captain and new crewmates, they sat up in the galley and swapped void stories with the newcomers who regaled them with their own tales in kind and the new arrivals seemed content aboard the ship as they days passed, no doubt hoping for steady work with room and board for their foreseeable futures. As the upgrades were finished, new crewmates settled and most importantly, their cargo of plasma cells loaded and secured in the cargo bay, Sam once more gave the order and his freighter slipped it's moorings, setting course toward the war-torn world of Ylem once more. They did not carry much cargo but Sam hoped the militia would pay good money for all supplements that could be made to their depleted stores of ammunition. Sam traveled past warp-gates, systems, more warp-gates, more clusters. The space-lanes were relatively quiet, they passed the occasional freighter every once in a while. Luckily, there seemed to be a momentary lull in pirate activity as well. When he reached the Nimbus III Cluster and traveled through a small system on his way toward the next warp-gate, Sam's sensors picked up the signature of a ship. It seemed relatively intact, only some superficial scarring but it's reactor had been shut down and only some residual heat remained, it had probably been adrift for several days. As it was (seemingly) largely intact, there might be an opportunity to board it and at least partially explore it without a space suit. Of course, it could also have lost atmosphere, but maybe there were survivors on board who needed help? Or goods whose owners were now gone.



Me'lek Tsualn

As the old run-down cruiser's scanners fixed on the strange disturbance it did not give them too much information, what captain Tsualn and her crew could safely ascertain with the little data they had gathered was that the signal was artificial and it repeated some form of message over and over again. It was by far too scrambled for anyone to decipher but most of Me'lek's crewmembers seemed to think it was some type of distress call from an ancient ship or possibly a groundside base or a space station. They system had been cut off from the wider galaxy for thousands and thousands of years but before that, some now fallen galactic civilization may have had a presence here at some point in history. That was a mixed sign, it meant that something here had clearly been worth the expense of setting up some kind of presence, but that reason could be either good or bad, it could be either a mine of precious metals or a trade post, or a military outpost to monitor some kind of threat. Whatever it was, it would warrant them getting closer for a better look. Of course they could turn around and look through another system, but that could be missing a great opportunity, soon others would come here as well and they may be more foolhardy than Me'lek was prepared to be. The crew looked toward their captain, ready to execute her next order. Do they get closer for a better look, or do they make for other, less mysterious areas of space.

Skill-check: 50 - Mediocre



Kyr Mirhorn Van

With the armored footsteps thundering through the hallways of the small corvette Kyr quickly gave the order to, in plain speech, fucking run for it. It was hard to corral such a number of frightened people as they made their way out of the hangar, especially since they were even more afraid after seeing how alarmed the Dunkidor leader had become. Then they heard why, they heard the pirates and their incessant swearing. Quickly making their way through the docking berth they made it out into the hallways of the local spaceport, one among very many in this part of the station, now was the time to run like never before for all of them, merc and slave alike. They burst into the spaceyards of the spire, eerily quiet and deserted, only the occasional drunken spacers stumbled in their way trying to find a way back to their ship soon in the twists and turns they seemed to loose their pursuers but the danger was not over, a captain as prone to rage as Zevo Vrasam would probably beat the leader of the search party into a bloody pulp if he did not bring back his living cargo. Perhaps he even led the search himself? Zax quickly pulled out his hand terminal and sent a message to their employer, he answered with an address in the lower areas of the station, but they still needed to leave the spire in order to get there and Kyr was more then aware that there could be anywhere between 20 and 30 pirate on the way back from their carousing to join the search. They sneaked their way through the dockyards, keeping far ahead of their pursuers it seemed. The way ahead was slow, Kyr had urged their utmost caution and so the traveled up dark, barely lit stairways, avoiding the main routes up toward the station proper. They passed what seemed to be among the poorest residents of the station, living in dark shanties built from scrap in these forgotten areas of the station. After the long march they finally found themselves emerging in the lower levels of Noctis, making their way through tightly packed habblocks and streets where store-windows shimmered with neon lights they would soon arrive at the destination provided by their employer.

Skill check: 92 - Great Success!



Sakol Linyako

After traveling through the strange warp-corridors that liked the gate network and far more mundane FTL-trips they finally arrived near the borders of Pythean space. Traveling through the relatively small expanse of no-man's space was easy. In the inner regions controlled by the galaxy's greater powers, piracy was held in far greater check than in the Outer Rim where the problem was endemic. It was a quick, effortless journey and before long they had crossed the border and arrived in the Haftir system. Approaching the small trade outpost they announced their credentials and waited for a permission to dock which they soon received and made their way to their designated berth. After the ship had been secured in it's bay the emyaar explorers could go out into the station where they were immediately met by the sleek, relatively sterile design style of the Pytheans, but as they were first made to pass through a security checkpoint one had to go through before leaving the docks. This was indeed civilized space, any weapons they carried had to be either secured aboard their ship or left to the guards, none but the police officers of the Pythean Royal Police Service were allowed to enter the main areas of the station armed. The trade floor was bustling, mostly with Pythean and Emyaar traders but Sakol could also spot the occasional Humans, enterprising Gharryn and Salunri all trading at the station's main exchange. He continued past the exchange and emerged into an area filled with stores where they purchased more equipment and his crew dispersed to carry out his order. Try as they might, they didn't manage to get much information from anyone, not today, not the next day or the day after that. All they managed to find find out was that there had been a "small expedition" sent there a few months ago. No talk of any permanent research station and while nobody had said anything about the expedition returning, they could have simply chosen another way to return to whatever Pythean university or academy they had been sent from. Or, they could perhaps still be there, then again, the reason they hadn't return may have been because something had happened to them there...

Skill check: 45 - Small Failure.



Plotek i medialnych bredni nie daj sobie wmówić,
Codziennie się rozwijaj i nie daj się ogłupić,
Atakowi propagandy stawiaj czoło dzielnie,
Nie daj sobą sterować i myśl samodzielnie.


Mass Effect Andromeda is a solid 7/10. Deal with it.

User avatar
Ralnis
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 26592
Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Thu Nov 28, 2019 1:50 pm

Kyr Mirhorn Van

Another success that helped escaped the pirate search parties. It was the hand of the gods that they were allowed to move in the shadow or even get away with inflicting such punishment on the pirates themselves. Kyr had been through the deep depths of the station before when she and her clan arrived on the station years ago. The underbelly was eclipsed by total darkness and neon signs. They were of the forgotten millions who either settle or became stranded into the station. They were too poor to make it up into the higher levels so they make their living out here.

The ducks and former slaves walked through the shanties to the destination and the client to complete the contract. However they still needed to be cautious. The pirates could have eventually founded their way down to the levels or the client himself was dubious and merely wasn't going to pay or was another slaver itself that wanted to bloody Zevo. The second part didn't really matter as long they got paid but it was both a point of honor being even more broken and they can always being betrayed at the last minute.

It's not that they had a choice really. Between being on the hit list of an angry pirate and being a deniable asset of a another group of pirates. It didn't matter really as long the Clan was paid and nothing bad happened. All she needed to do was to meet him, get the money and then prepare to perhaps fight the mad Zorvishi as he will be looking for blood.

Actions: Go to the location that the client sent. Have some scouting done to make sure the client isn't trying to ambush him or pirates from Zevo's crew. Get money then try to see about regrouping against the inevitable attack from Zevo.

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