|
A
|
#
?
Jun 16, 2016 04:17
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 24, 2024 01:34 |
|
|
E, water worms
|
|
#
?
Jun 16, 2016 04:35
|
|
|
So, my kid's in the hospital for a 72-hour EEG, which requires either MY SPOUSE or I to be up at the hospital at all times. Between work and that, I've only got a handful of spare minutes to put stylus to tablet. I'll try to get the update out by Saturday night if we can reach a consensus on the vote; Monday otherwise.
|
|
#
?
Jun 17, 2016 02:54
|
|
|
Uh, no problem if you can't make an update happen. I hope your kid is ok and gets out of the hospital with all due speed!
|
|
#
?
Jun 17, 2016 03:17
|
|
|
It's not an emergency sort of thing; he's just under observation for his epilepsy. Appreciated, though.
|
|
#
?
Jun 17, 2016 03:29
|
|
|
drat man, take all the time you need. Hope everything's ok with your kid.
|
|
#
?
Jun 17, 2016 03:30
|
|
|
I hope baby Xipho's epilepsy is the "almost never happens" sort and that all is well. Take all the time you need dude.
|
|
#
?
Jun 17, 2016 22:00
|
|
|
Hexenritter posted:I hope baby Xipho's epilepsy is the "almost never happens" sort and that all is well. It's not that sort, but all is well. It's just the sort of weekend where you sit in a room under surveillance for 72 hours trying to keep your kid from scratching the leads on his head. Some very odd things can become routine when you've got a kid with a chronic condition.
|
|
#
?
Jun 17, 2016 23:46
|
|
|
 You access the sub's systems via your wristlink, and quickly forge a docking handshake between the Best Time Fish II and the harbormaster computer. "If our guy doesn't pick up on that, then I'm profoundly embarrassed to have been almost blown up by him," you comment. "Fast work, Regal," comments Vare. "One might be lead to believe you've done this before." "There are any number of valid reasons a being might have an archive of official docking codes stored in their wristlink," you reply. "Remind me later, and I'll come up with one." A few moments later, you see a spike in RF activity, and use your not-inconsiderable skill and Tone's surprisingly robust EW software to pluck the transmission out of the water like a prize fish. "Who wants to see the qwags who want to see us vaped," you survey the cabin, throwing the transmission to the sub's holo-comm.  "The target has eluded me," croaks the rumbling voice of your pursuer. "He is headed your way." "And that," growls a second Verdugar in an ostentatious hat, "is why you are merely Acknowledged. Leave this matter to one who has earned the Esteem of Matriarch Yzbey-La's inner torus." "Perhaps," the first Verdugar hisses, "you would care to...modify our wager?" The second crocodilian pauses. "Go on," he allows. "If you successfully execute the contract, you may keep the chattel you promised me. In addition, for the next rota, I will make stock deliveries on your behalf, free of Obligation." "And in the remote chance I should fail? Additional chattel for your pathetic stables, I presume?" "No, Esteemed Ymirez." The first Verdugar leans close to the holo-pickup, and cracks a reptilian grin full of mossy teeth. "When you fail, you will publicly Recognize me before the torus. Not via proxy; you will affix the fibula to my shoulder yourself." Ymirez visibly rankles at this, eyes narrowing dangerously, and nostril flaps flaring. "You play a dangerous game, Acknowledged. After you expire, face-down in a fetid bog, I shall name the first offspring I get on your concubine Yngado before I devour it." "Does that mean you accept," Yngado replies with a smirk. "So Sealed and Done," Ymirez snaps, cutting off the transmission. "Ladies and mercenaries, the vaunted Verdugar honor code," Vare says, grinning. "They're fiercely committed to it," you reply, "as long as it doesn't actually inconvenience them in any way." "It's less a code of conduct," rasps Kamula, "and more an excuse to zero any drokk-eater that lights you off." "I don't normally say it while I'm this sober," Ramadi drawls, "but I'm feeling suddenly inspired to mayhem..." "I'd say the wedge is certainly there for the driving," you agree, "but we'll need to be careful; either one of these sleebs would gladly pulp our crania for us." "And now we'll be dealing with the both of the bleeders," Kamula growls, "plus whatever war-thralls they feel like throwing our way, unless you've got a krumping beautiful idea on how to set them on each other." "Taliro," you say, an idea forming in your mind, "would you mind terribly letting us borrow a couple hundred thousand exoducats? I'd give them right back..." "What did you have in mind," the Ropilio asks, more curious than doubtful. A. Regal: "I pretend to drop a stack of misappropriated lucre in Yngado's accounts, and we make sure Ymirez knows about it." B. Kamula: "Real clever, but relies too much on Verdugar initiative for my liking. I'm reasonably krumping secure in our ability to deal with lot of muck-draggers fore-warned. We go in smart, and we go in krumping lethal. C. Taliro: "Why not both? In the climax of Hard Vacuum, the criminal heroes pit their enemies against one another, then sweep in to the conflict to mop up the remainder. The gore effects were immaculate!" D. Vare: "Alternately, we could actually pay off Yngado. Not the big dux, but cut him in for a mission share. He wins the bet whether we live or not, and it couldn't hurt to have a ruthless Syndicate operator owe you a favor.” E. Ramadi: "I mean, I'm not, like, the exemplar of tactical thought, and I'm sure there's probably some obvious strategic reason none of you suggested this, but what if we just ___________________________?" Tone peers at his instrument panel, then looks back to the conference in the cabin, blinking his shiny button eyes in dismay. “We moves now or not ever,” he says, snout wrinkling. “Much signature from ices. Very organics.” “Ice worms,” Taliro cries, with an odd blend of horror and excitement. “No such existings,” Tone replies, chittering with laughter and flapping a hand dismissively. “Ice worms.” “I'm happy you're happy,” you interject, “but that's definitely a lot of not-ice-worms out there.” “Negs, negs,” corrects Tone. “Only ones. Kulkraxian Psychrophages very territorial beasts. We goes?”
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 17:28
|
|
|
D. I like having people owe us favors
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 18:18
|
|
|
Lazaruise posted:D. I like having people owe us favors Yep, but be ready to double cross him when we need to.
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 20:01
|
|
|
C. This Taliro guy knows how to have fun.
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 20:31
|
|
|
Is D even mutually exclusive with any of A to C?
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 20:32
|
|
|
Sir Unimaginative posted:Is D even mutually exclusive with any of A to C? D is actually paying him off in the interest of a continuing relationship, as opposed to either pretending to do so to sow dissent, or just shooting everybody.
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 21:03
|
|
|
Okay. C. Even if favors would be useful, Yngado feels like a hell of a loose end, and he's not even one we'd feel bad about tying up.
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 22:05
|
|
|
D costs less than C presumably, and we get an in with these creeps, be it on the down low. Let's not trust the cargo's movie logic too much.
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 22:25
|
|
|
Blasphemaster posted:D costs less than C presumably, and we get an in with these creeps, be it on the down low. Let's not trust the cargo's movie logic too much. I think we're just pretending to pay off Yngado in C, in D we actually give him a cut of our cash. C Leave no loose ends.
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 22:58
|
|
|
A an C in no way involve actually paying the Verdugar. C even involves killing them and presumably taking their poo poo!
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 23:18
|
|
|
NastyToes posted:I think we're just pretending to pay off Yngado in C, in D we actually give him a cut of our cash. Green Intern posted:A an C in no way involve actually paying the Verdugar. C even involves killing them and presumably taking their poo poo! Both of these are correct.
|
|
#
?
Jun 20, 2016 23:20
|
|
|
I'd rather go D.
|
|
#
?
Jun 21, 2016 01:14
|
|
|
I gotta wonder though if C or D would work anyway, since we don't know how much these guys are getting paid, if their 'honor' would allow bribery to cut and run or fight each other on a mission or whatever. Changing vote to A/E. We do the trickery with the added bonus of broadcasting a thanks to Yngado for accepting our bribe. Good times ensue.
|
|
#
?
Jun 21, 2016 05:25
|
|
|
Blasphemaster posted:Changing vote to A/E. We do the trickery with the added bonus of broadcasting a thanks to Yngado for accepting our bribe. Good times ensue. Publicly and undeniably embarrassing the new bad guy is probably a decent way to guarantee they team up against us. You really want to deal with that?
|
|
#
?
Jun 21, 2016 06:04
|
|
|
Blasphemaster posted:I gotta wonder though if C or D would work anyway, since we don't know how much these guys are getting paid, if their 'honor' would allow bribery to cut and run or fight each other on a mission or whatever.
|
|
#
?
Jun 21, 2016 08:35
|
|
|
"If this sleeb's half as self-interested and lazy as stereotypes have led me to believe," you say, keying in Yngado's comm frequency, "then he'll jump at the chance to simultaneously count coup on his rival and make some ducats, all while doing nothing." “Making contact is slotting risky," Kamula growls. "We'd krumping well better not be putting out a flashing 'Murder Us' sign.” “Chel, K,” you reply smoothly. “He's expecting us to be on-station, and the transmission is encrypted anyway.” You dial in a few adjustments, and look to your crew. “Here goes.” The hailing tone sounds out for a few seconds before a luminous holo-image of the Verdugar operative flickers to life on the comms console.  “Who is this,” Yngado demands harshly. “How did you get this frequency?” “Acknowledged Yngado,” you begin, “how would you like to get paid to do nothing?” Yngado's eyes narrow, but snaggly teeth peek from one side of his snout in a cruel grin. “You're the poor lickers conned into bodyguarding that Ropilio,” he growls. "You stand to get a nice promotion if Ymirez fails,” you continue. “Think of this payoff as a nice little bonus to your upgrade in circumsta--.” “Don't think I don't remember you,” Yngado interrupts. “You're the wretched scraper who lost me my lucrative arrangement with that naval commander.” “He's that Yngado,” Ramadi whispers, and receives a scowl and an elbow from Vare. "You left me with a heap of Obligations to fulfill," Yngado snarls. "Tell me why I shouldn't just peel you and wear you as a cape." “We got off on the wrong appendage,” you admit, “that's true. But we have an opportunity for a mutual benefit here, and all you have to do is not do anything.” Yngado silently stares at you over the comm for a long moment, the cybernetic appliances over his eyes revealing nothing. But just when you are about to say something more, he speaks. “Do what you need to do,” the Verdugar growls, “and I won't stop you. But if Ymirez goes down, the deal's off. He owes me satisfaction, and I intend to collect. Anyway, not even a licker of your station is imbecilic enough to want killing an Esteemed on your record; the Syndicate doesn't forget something like that.” "Well," you breathe in relief, "that sounds like--" The transmission abruptly ends. "Nice guy," Vare observes. "I wonder if his mother had any children who lived?"  The Best Time Fish II and the docking apparatus of Sector G interlock in an uncanny ballet of rotating, grinding, clamping, unclamping, rubbing, and insertions. "Sounds like basically every date I go on anymore," says Ramadi wistfully as she watches the pressure telltales on the sub's console. "Right," you declare, bringing up the sector map on the sub's holodisplay with a (dramatic, but strictly unnecessary) sweep of your hand. "This is we," you point out, "and this is the docking bay where Taliro's ride is berthed. There are any number of torched-off Syndicate drokk-scrapers between point A and point B. Fortunately, we've got eyes on the ground...or, strictly speaking, above it."  A transit guard peers at the strange package in the tube capsule, edging carefully closer. He grunts in dismay as Scuzzy Jr. awakens to active mode with a whirr and soft tone, and glides up into the concourse while the guard struggles to free his stun-truncheon from his belt. It zips through the open doors of another tube capsule, as a shocked commuter yelps and spills its tumbler of frozen methanol slush. It jukes around a traffic control pylon and scatters a small swarm of messenger drones like timid avids. "Quit playing with yourself, Kore," rasps Kamula. "But it handles like a dream," you whine, "and I've barely gotten to take it out yet." "Most of my dreams involve naked public speaking," Ramadi offers. "Well, that and the wizard..." "All we're saying," Vare says with a hand on the meat of your shoulder, "is that you can fulfill your dreams of begin a vicarious sky-cloaca sometime when we're not on the clock...and being hunted by murderous slavers." "Fine," you huff, bringing your drone into a surveillance pattern near a climate-control vane. "Joy-killers. I can borrow the weather tower's bandwidth to increase my sensor resolution," you explain. "Now, let's we get to it, poz?" "I'm gonna... A. Stay here and run ops. I'll monitor via Scuzzy Jr., and relay updates and all the pro strats. B. Stay with Taliro. If the drokk drops, I want to be able to cover him. C. Hang back a bit to watch my drone-feed and coordinate, but I'll be close enough to intervene if I need to. Ramadi, you'll... D. Stay with Taliro, and get him clear if need be. E. Fan out, keep as many as three eyes on our surroundings. F. Do a bit of sabotage; try to keep eyes off us and on malfunctioning bulkheads and runaway cargo pallets and whatnot. Kamula, you're on... G. Point. Make a hole, get us to that docking bay soonest. H. Flank. Watch our drokk-funnels and come in hot and lethal if you paint any hostiles. I. Free-range sleeb-slotting. Any qwag with green scales and bad teeth pops up, you pop them right back. Vare, if you would... J. Stay here. These sleebs don't know you yet, and I'd like to keep it that way. Also, that keeps you as a possible ace in the hole. K. Merge into the crowd. Try to make any Syndies that might be lurking. L. Stick with Taliro; keep him safe. Tone, my friend... M. Stay here and monitor comms traffic. I'd love to know if we're getting a fresh delivery of drokk-crocs. N. Come along for the drop-off. You're low-profile, and we could use the extra pair of eyes. O. Go ahead and take off. You've more than earned your pay for this one. And Taliro, if it heats up, you need to... P. Stay close to your escort and follow directions explicitly. Q. Stay put and take cover; we'll work better if you're not in the line of fire. R. Break for the docking bay; Scuzzy will keep an eye on you, and we'll hold off the qwags until you're clear.
|
|
#
?
Jun 21, 2016 22:37
|
|
|
C,D,H,K,O,P
|
|
#
?
Jun 22, 2016 15:49
|
|
|
Xiphopagus posted:"I'm gonna... I think a flexible strategy will work better here. Keep things fast and fluid.
|
|
#
?
Jun 22, 2016 16:49
|
|
|
AFHKMR
|
|
#
?
Jun 22, 2016 17:03
|
|
|
CDHKMP
|
|
#
?
Jun 22, 2016 18:52
|
|
|
BEHKNQ I at least hope that my choosing all six middle choices is coincidental.
|
|
#
?
Jun 22, 2016 20:09
|
|
|
BEHKMQ So close Sir.
|
|
#
?
Jun 22, 2016 23:28
|
|
|
C: Regal is our eyes, but it's best to be close if we need to use our drones to stop a bullet heading for the client. D: Our frequently intoxicated friend has a good sense of threats to her personal safety. She'll know when to get down. G: As always the bloody part of the gig is K's show. He needs to be in position to react and give orders. J: Best to keep her anonymous for now. She was present at the station where noted hard-rear end syndicate lady took an interest after all. O: Tone's job is transport. Don't ruin a good working relationship by demanding more. P: Ramadi will keep him breathing.
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 00:02
|
|
|
CDHKMP
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 00:12
|
|
|
I wanna trade in my 5 non-Tone votes and go for a full 6 O goddamnit O. Don't get Tone killed you heartless bastards!
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 03:33
|
|
|
Could we get a potential compromise, like Tone sticks around, and if anyone shows up who looks like trouble, we get a comm about it and Tone immediately gets out of here?
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 03:38
|
|
|
We lose Tone we lose a really skilled pilot, especially since we haven't bought our own sub yet. I'd rather him as far away as possible.
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 14:09
|
|
|
 Scuzzy Jr. executes its surveillance pattern, painting the overhead view with a reference grid. "Cell 16 is clear, Smokey," you transmit, "move to the next waypoint." "Copy, Blue," Ramadi replies, "moving out." "Still don't know why we're using these krumping callsigns," Kamula rasps. "Keep this channel clear, Crankshaft," Taliro scolds, "if the vids have taught me anything, it's that signal discipline is vital to operational success!" "Stow it," the cyborg growls. "Stow it, Goldgleam," Taliro corrects. "No one is calling you Goldgleam," Vare interjects. "Your callsign is Bubbles." "Cell 21 clear," you report, enunciating loudly over the bickering, "no contacts." "Too slotting quiet," Kamula mutters. "Skimmers inbound," Tone's voice breaks in. "Single contacts, neg transponders codes." "Thanks, Kamula," Ramadi chides sarcastically. "I don't see anything," you begin, scanning your surroundings with Scuzzy Jr. providing tactical overlays in your visor. "Wait...In the trench." With your drone's-eye view, you see a personnel transport, flying in low and fast. "Ramadi, get to cover!" "Smokey is--" "Clamp it, Taliro," you bark, "cover!"  Ramadi yanks the bulky suited Ropilio, clanking and pinwheeling, toward the cover of a colonnade as the skimmer surges up out of the trench. In your overlay, you can see the outlines of your crew, highlighted in green, as they scramble to position. Kamula charges though a passel of robed commuters, scattering them in every direction as he draws thermablade and lancejet and vaults a hand truck. Vare skates to cover behind a pillar, drawing her hand pulser. Even as the skimmer rises into view, the side door is rolling open, revealing a rack of folded combat mechs and, to your sudden and intense dread, a Verdugar operating a mounted heavy pulse-repeater. You see the green-lined figures of Ramadi and Taliro running to cover, see the gun swing to track them, and realize they won't make it in time. Unless...  In an instant, Scuzzy Jr.'s laser slides free from its ventral surface, and a crimson finger of death lances toward your target. That target? A. The gunner. He is mostly obscured by the chassis of the skimmer, the gun's glare shield, and the gun itself, but you're confident of the laser's penetration if you make the shot. B. The gun. An easier shot, but one that takes a valuable piece of tech out of commission (drat your scavenger's eyes), and leaves a combatant still in the fight. C. The pilot. You might be able to take all of your enemies out in one fell swoop, but the possibility of collateral damage from an uncontrolled skimmer is high. D. Sweep your laser down the length of the skimmer. Less guarantee of taking out any particular target, but likely to hurt something, and certainly a distraction. E. Another target: ___________________________.
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 18:57
|
|
|
B then D Take out the main threat then make everyone uncertain. Uncertainty is good.
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 19:38
|
|
|
B, then perhaps D if there is time.
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 19:56
|
|
|
B first then go to D. Save our friend! I guess save the walking paycheck too.
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 20:41
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 24, 2024 01:34 |
|
|
C Save the paycheck! Oh, and I guess our friends too.
|
|
#
?
Jun 23, 2016 20:49
|
|