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Aug 20, 2016 02:47
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 12:58 |
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FIM The gun drones are an immediate threat, and if we can disable a shield drone it's that much easier to take out the enemy rigger.
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Aug 20, 2016 06:09
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Reading the first page. Jesus Christ your writing is good.
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Aug 20, 2016 07:10
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Helical Nightmares posted:Reading the first page. Gonna quote this for truth
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Aug 20, 2016 18:04
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 You press your back into the crumbling formcrete as dust drifts down around you, attempting to grab a measure of focus as shouts, screams, and rail-shots explode all around you. Coaxing your micro-drone swarm to release their protective hold on you is like psyching yourself up for a high-dive, and you hesitate for a long moment before the cloud of tiny drones lights off buzzing into the rain like so many angry vespenes. The gun-drones don't recognize the threat for what it is, nor would they have any recourse against the swarm if they did, and the first of them is totally enveloped, and a second significantly mired, before the infomancer manages to pull the third to safety. The first and least fortunate gun-drone vanishes into the angry glowing cloud, reappearing only as scraps of armor and lengths of wire and circuitry, dropping from the swarm like crumbs from the lips of a messy-mouthed juve. The second wheels and gambols, repulsers struggling and gyros spinning madly as thousands of tiny drones infiltrate its innards, driving it to synthetic madness as it is picked apart from within.  The intact gun-drone maneuvers to continue its assault, but the Raq with the ionic disruptor has taken advantage of the slacked fire to line up his shot. Your feathers stand on end as the weapon reaches max charge, and a crackling lozenge of magnetically-enveloped EM radiation erupts from the disruptor's emitter, rupturing among the drones into a blinding wash of light and charge. The sounds of small arms fire lapses for an instant before resuming, sans the ceaseless din of the drones' rotary cannons. You feel a slight pang as your droneswarm is neutralized by the pulse, falling dead from the sky along with the husks of the gun-drones. The defenders on the upper level seize the advantage, firing down at the raiders hacking at the barricades with ruthless precision. But before you can calculate a follow-up...  It seems your display with the micro-drone swarm has finally grabbed the infomancer's attention. The enemy hacker's monstrous abstractum bursts into your vulnerable data-sanctum, and you can't help but feel the violation, despite the intrusion being part of your plan. The construct scuttles deeper into your architecture, corrupt sectors spreading from every step.  Your bait-abstractum starts in dismay and bolts into the labyrinthine depths of your intellect fortress, fragments of data dropping from its buffer and bouncing to the floor as it flees. The beast follows.     As the infomancer slumps, catatonic, in his harness, Scuzzy Jr. returns to the temple, and the Raq continue to rally. The surviving raiders, bereft of their advantage, and caught between the fire of the desperate defenders and the laser blasts of your drone, break and flee into the rainy streets of the sector. The weary Raq do not cheer, instead checking their weapons and tending to their wounded.  Deep in a quarantined node, the infomancer's abstractum looks up, rage and surprise smoothly giving way to a chagrined resignation. “So what now,” he asks. “Well,” you begin, “you're in a rather precarious situation. Any qwag with a mono-axe to grind could just step up on your meat-body and brain you with a rock, poz?” The infomancer shakes his head, letting loose a raspy chuckle. “With all due respect,” he replies, “and I mean that, because you hoisted me but good, but I think it's fair odds we've both been extorted before. We know how this works. You've got me dead to rights, so let's just get on with it before we have to delete that to rights part, poz?” You are silent for a moment, mouth quirked in consternation. “You wanted to do the big gloaty monologue,” the infomancer sighs. “I know, but let's just take it as read, and you tell me what it is you want me to hack for you.” “If that's the way you want it,” you growl. “You're going to...” A. “Hack the Synod's administrative systems for me.” He might be able to do a better job than you, and it will free up your workcycles for another pre-mission task. B. “Hack the Praxis Cartel's mainframe.” Same rationale as above. C. “Load a worm onto the O-Barvanja financial intranet.” You could stick it to the slavers and pad your revenue at the same time. D. “Owe me one.” Something about the idea of having an infomancer in your pocket for tight spots sounds appealing. E. “_________________________.” Specify something else. F. “Die.” With enough time to prepare, an infomancer can kill with an idea. This is way too risky to play with, especially on the eve of a major operation.  You find Ramadi after the battle, standing with the sniper over the body of a fallen defender. As you approach, she acknowledges you with a bob of an eyestalk. She comments softly to the other Raq, who nods and departs. “Regal,” she says somberly. “Thanks for that. I'm not going to analyze motives, so just, thanks.” “Anytime,” you reply. “You know, I could probably get most of those drones up and running with a little time. It would take the pressure off, at least.” “Who'd control them,” Ramadi asks, shaking her head. “None of my guys have a cortex. It would only be treading water, anyway. Without a steady resource stream, this is all just delaying the inevitable.” You reply, G. “This was inevitable, with the way the Elders were running things. You're not beholden to slavers and middlemen anymore, and you're stronger now. You've got a chance to forge a new path. I've got a mission coming up that could set you up for life, and give your people a chance.” H. “You don't owe these people anything. They gave you the boot when you wouldn't toe the line. They're accepting you now because it's that or be sold off by pirates, but don't mistake their sudden pragmatism for loyalty. Come with me.” I. “I'm in tight with Vrade right now. Enough that I could divert some resources down here. Vrade likes you...I'll bet that if you come do this job with me, they won't even be too sore about it.” J. “One more job. Stack enough ducats to do right by your people, and you never have to see my face again if you don't want to.” K. “________________________.” Insert stirring speech here. “Or I could tone up Yngado,” she offers. “I've still got his comm-freq, and I'm sure he'd love to get back into business down here.” “With a sense of humor like that,” you comment, “how could I have ever have let you go?”
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Aug 23, 2016 20:06
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D but take the equivalent of a blackmail photo to keep him on the hook. Something like a screen cap of the 'mancer holding the unique ID checksum of his avatar to identify it as him being punked by a young upstart to keep his loyalty. Something that would destroy his career if it got out. Swear on our honor as a hacker that it will be kept in confidence and returned to him/destroyed and him alone at the completion of a future task. Then upon agreement kick out that guy form our data stream as fast as possible and do a full system sweep and purge to avoid any nasty surprises left behind. G Build up that network of resources!
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Aug 23, 2016 20:38
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Too hard hard to trust, too dangerous to let live. The crocs at least have a twisted code of honor. This cheerfully pragmatic fellow was hired to slaughter and enslave an entire civilian population. He would have gleefully mindfucked us and made our implants kill our meat for his own amusement I'm guessing. F- Unless there's a way to kick him offline permanently. And wipe his memory of who did it. G
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Aug 23, 2016 20:46
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Arkanomen posted:
Correct vote below. Blasphemaster fucked around with this message at 00:11 on Aug 24, 2016 |
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Aug 23, 2016 21:00
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After further thought I change my vote to: E"Hold Please." Cue Ramadi in on our prisoner situation. Let her decide his fate as a bit of us paying her back for our treachery. Maybe she wants info on those threatening her people or somesuch. Also it killed some of her guys, maybe she wants to off him herself. J
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Aug 24, 2016 00:10
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D: Can't afford to let him know about our current job. If he leaks, we're screwed. Favors are always valuable though. K: As with I, but make a point of admitting we got greedy and self-righteous. Offer up part of our share of the payday as a show of sincerity. Loyal friends are too valuable to lose in this kind of trade.
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Aug 24, 2016 02:36
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A J
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Aug 24, 2016 04:22
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Blasphemaster posted:E"Hold Please." Cue Ramadi in on our prisoner situation. Let her decide his fate as a bit of us paying her back for our treachery. Maybe she wants info on those threatening her people or somesuch. Also it killed some of her guys, maybe she wants to off him herself. G. J is a lie even if we mean it, we're almost sure to cross paths again regardless of how Ramadi feels about it.
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Aug 24, 2016 06:24
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Blasphemaster posted:E"Hold Please." Cue Ramadi in on our prisoner situation. Let her decide his fate as a bit of us paying her back for our treachery. Maybe she wants info on those threatening her people or somesuch. Also it killed some of her guys, maybe she wants to off him herself. G
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Aug 24, 2016 08:32
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F, too dangerous.Tell him to do whatever comes second, and while he's distracted with that go find his body and cave his head in with a rock. And steal his hardware.
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Aug 24, 2016 21:43
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“This was inevitable, with the way the Elders were running things. You're not beholden to slavers and middlemen anymore, and you're stronger now. You've got a chance to forge a new path. I've got a mission coming up that could set you up for life, and give your people a chance.” Ramadi eyes you dubiously, with 150% efficiency. “Were you rehearsing that on the way here,” she asks. “Because that was exceptionally rehearsed. No, we're not beholden, just beseiged.” “They won't try another push like that,” you say, looking around the quiet plaza. “They're opportunists, and you showed them it wasn't worthwhile.” “Not like that, no,” she replies. “But for anyone not holed up in the temple, which is most of my people, an army of the sleebs isn't necessary to present a credible threat. It's really not the pirates and slavers that are the threat long-term, though.” “No?” “It's the smugglers. The closed fist didn't work, so next they'll come with an open hand and a load of relief supplies. Set the hook.” “Food in one hand, noose in the other,” you comment. “Can't argue with your logic. You've got that infomancer in custody, though; the ransom should help a fair piece.” Ramadi looks at you reproachfully. “Ransom? You're the radical abolitionist now, Reeg, so call it what it is. I'm selling this helpless qwag and his codes to his equally qwaggy code-slinging rivals. And yeah, it'll help, but it won't be enough. That's why I can't go haring off after...uh...what's this job, anyway?” “Deep-sea recovery of a crashed Erb starship,” you state flatly, as if it were an everyday routine. “Deep sea recovery of...Well. Slot me running, but you can pick them, Regal Kore. Seems like an awfully heavy lift, though...who's onboard for this little escapade?” “Vrade's underwriting some of it, and provided a logstics officer. Then there's me, Vare, Midas, Tone Tonez, K of course...” “Midas. Tell me you're smudging my optics, here, Reeg. Midas?” “It was his op,” you protest. “I don't care much for it either, but that's where we are.” Ramadi shakes her head. “Regardless. I can't leave my people at the mercy of the wild whatever. Not without assurances.” “Assurances,” you repeat. “You always were a good listener, Reeg. Assurances. Eighty of them. An advance, to make sure I've got people to come back to after all is said and done.” You nod slowly. “Let me make a call,” you offer, toning Voulge's comm frequency. “Ms. Kore,” Voulge's clipped voice answers after precisely two hailing tones. “Voulge," you greet, putting an assertive edge in your voice. "Right. So Ramadi wants eighty exo-ducats up-front to join the op. And I don't want to hear y--” “Very well.” “Just tell Vrade that...Wait, what?” “This was anticipated. Uncle Vrade has preemptively authorized an advance for Ms. Kinu. Transferring now.” Ramadi looks at you, eyes cocked in bemusement. “Is that a--” “That's Poz. Pack your drugs and underwear.” 
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Aug 25, 2016 22:00
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Let's go with A. We've just seen what a well-organized drone group can do for a rigger, so it stands to reason that we'd be looking into getting the same for ourself. Even just to up success rates for the next few mini-ops), this could be a real game changer. Scuzzy has the tech savvy and PEW PEW down pat. Thus I would suggest no less than 2 additional combat drones equipped with slug-throwers of some variety and stocks of interchangeable AP and Frangible ammunition, as well as storage compartments for emergency medical supplies. Multiple angles of fire, capability to bring to bear Thermal, Armor Piercing, and Space-Jesus-loving-Cosmo-Christ-Can-We-Not-Put-Holes-In-The-loving-Bulkheads fire to a battle, plus we can have them deliver blood plugs if necessary. Also maybe one that can operate in water and has a harpoon gun or something, as such a contingency plan could save the day. Plus one that is just a ball of metal-shearing buzzsaws that can launch itself at something distressing. In case we see a spider.
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Aug 26, 2016 05:55
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A. Seems like it'd help in any further objectives.
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Aug 26, 2016 06:46
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A Hell yeah we got my drug smoking spirit animal back on board. Is the vote still open on what to do with that scrag?
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Aug 26, 2016 07:15
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quote:Is the vote still open on what to do with that scrag? The infomancer? No, you gave him to Ramadi, who is going to sell him.
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Aug 26, 2016 13:26
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A. Having more drones will help with basically everything.
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Aug 26, 2016 15:19
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 Kreev eagerly slides his tongue over the grooves of the credchip, as if tasting its value. You suppress a grimace and turn to examine a row of drone chassis. "Been doing buzinezz with Vrade for a long time," breathes Kreev. "Long time. You're covered for a rack of plotterz, no problem. But I think we can zqueeze in a little more without cauzing a fuzz, poz?" "I'm flexible," you reply. "Let's just make sure we both keep our bones on the inside after all is said and done, poz?" Kreev palms a dodecahedral orb and waves it in front of you with his bottom arm. "Zixty-four of theze, networked, can produze a real-time tactical plot over half a cubic zpan, with a lag of only..." he peers at the drone with his monocular prosthetic, "...zix millionthz of a tick. Fully amphibiouz, though the zeaworthiness makez getting inzide to tinker a bit of a chore." You nod appreciatively, accepting the drone from Kreev as he hands it over. "A lot of sixty-four would put us where?" Kreev waves his bottom arm dismissively. "Covered, eazy. In fact," he says, reaching up to twist a dial on his ocular, "with what'z left over, we could zlap on an upgrade...” “I was actually thinking about upping my offensive game,” you comment. “What do you have in the way of amphibious commado models? I'm looking at flexible ammo modularity and some med protocols. Or if you've got one with a harpoon gun...while we're looking, I mean...” Kreev sucks on a claw thoughtfully, then executes a series of swipes on his wristlink. A deci or two later, a bulky stevedore mech tramps out of the back room, clutching three heavy armored crates. The cargo handler places its payload upon the deck with surprising gentleness, pops them open with an integrated prybar, then slumps in standby. “Any of these marine zupport modelz could work,” Kreev hisses pensively, shrugging as you look dubiously at the pristine League crates from which they came. “Fell off a cargo hauler, clean, don't fret about tranzponderz...” He taps furiously on his wristlink. “Take a look.”  You may purchase up to 3 drones. The 64 plotters count as 1.  A. NSD2-Mote (64x). Choose an upgrade below B. EM Hardening. “Preventz pezky blind spotz, poz?" C. Rig them with detonators. “Zixty-four Grade Zix detonatorz, going off at the time and plaze of your choize." D. Give them a mirror coat. “Let your Scuzzy put a lazy beem anywhere in the zphere of control with zome zavvy rotation." E. Optical camouflage. “For thoze zenzitive opz." F. “Or, you could get the zixty-four plotterz, sanz upgrade, and I could alzo throw in a rack of ambhibiouz labor mechz. Good for heavy lifting, puzhing, and cutting. Zemi-autonomouz, usually run off the cortex in the rack, but you could zlave that to your perzonal cortex.”  F. Hardjack Mk3: A heavily-armored bivalve model. Slow, but basically impervious to small arms when closed up. With the grenade launcher loaded with glue or gas canisters, has been used effectively as a riot control unit. With auxiliary module given over to an autodoc, the Hardjack can function as a mobile armored first-aid station. >Advanced Cermet Plating >2x Lancejet (Up to 3 different ammo types) >Microgrenade Tube >Harpoon/Grapple Launcher >EM Hardening >Autodoc  G. Naut-6: A bouquet of guns with repulsors on. Its secondary airguns are suitable for chemical or medical payloads, as unlike the lancejets, they fire at sub-ballistic velocities. >6x Lancejets (Up to 6 different ammo types) >2x Compressed-Air Launchers >Advanced Maneuvering Thrusters  H. Crossbones-X: A breaching/boarding toolbox unit, also equipped with a plasma “flamethrower” for antipersonnel use. >Plasma Projector >Cutting Laser >Kinetic Ram >Hydraulic Spreader >Cermet Saw >Datajack
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Aug 26, 2016 16:50
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Just how exploded is Grade Six going to get something?
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Aug 26, 2016 17:40
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Blasphemaster posted:Just how exploded is Grade Six going to get something? If it's a person? Quite. If it's a building/ship? It depends. It's typically used for mining purposes, getting precise blasts where you need them for excavation. They're not incredibly destructive; individually, one probably would severely maim or kill a person, or wreck but not demolish a skimmer. 64 of them, precisely placed, could tackle a significantly bigger job. Enough to take out a facility's reactor, destroy a small vessel, or disable a larger one. Needless to say, these would not be for on-station use. Kreev probably doesn't offer this stuff to just anyone, but you're representing Vrade in this instance.
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Aug 26, 2016 17:51
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Probably pretty well. I'm not keen on blowing up drones though. Seems wasteful. AE, F, H
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Aug 26, 2016 17:52
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Green Intern posted:Probably pretty well. I'm not keen on blowing up drones though. Seems wasteful. I'm going to mirror this. Essentially having stealth-sourced Augmented Vision, an armored fire support/medic unit, and a breach/anti-spider unit would make Reeg a force to be reckoned with. Kinda stoked that we're pretty much getting exactly what I wanted, but better and more operationally flexible. 
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Aug 26, 2016 18:13
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A bunch of cheap, heavily armoured drones filled with C4 could be fun. The armour becoming shrapnel to poo poo goes boom. Maybe next time, when we're not beholden to pressurized walls for continued safety.
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Aug 26, 2016 20:48
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Outrail posted:A bunch of cheap, heavily armoured drones filled with C4 could be fun. The armour becoming shrapnel to poo poo goes boom. Maybe next time, when we're not beholden to pressurized walls for continued safety. How often do we do runs above water?
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Aug 26, 2016 21:57
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I like the AE,F,H spread. It gives us all kinds of coverage.
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Aug 26, 2016 23:36
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Green Intern posted:Probably pretty well. I'm not keen on blowing up drones though. Seems wasteful.
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Aug 27, 2016 02:34
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Blasphemaster posted:How often do we do runs above water? Just spit balling. Or, planning explosive recompression...
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Aug 27, 2016 03:27
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No love for the amphibious labor mechs? Super useful for salvage recovery, ie this exact mission. Plus anything with a sensors is gonna hear the massive ping of the motes scanning the area so stealth is less useful. And we've got sixty four. Who cares if a few get shot? That's shots not heading our way. AF, F, H
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Aug 27, 2016 04:05
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AF, F, H
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Aug 27, 2016 14:32
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Not Alex posted:No love for the amphibious labor mechs? Super useful for salvage recovery, ie this exact mission. Plus anything with a sensors is gonna hear the massive ping of the motes scanning the area so stealth is less useful. And we've got sixty four. Who cares if a few get shot? That's shots not heading our way. I'll go with this because you make a good case.
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Aug 27, 2016 17:05
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Just finished reading from the beginning. It's been said, but the art and world you've got going are amazing Xiopopagus. AF, G, H because we obviously need robots to carry the loot, and who could turn down the squidbots?
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Aug 28, 2016 00:54
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I'm pro being able to blow up 64 people. That's quite a bit of firepower.
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Aug 28, 2016 02:13
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We'll be taking the Motes, Hardjack, and the Crossbones, but we're split on whether to take the camo for our Motes, or the labor mechs. The runoff between Ghost Balls and Swoledroids will remain open for a little while longer, but we'll move on to selecting our next task.
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Aug 29, 2016 14:47
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A Talk to that spooky barnacle. also voting for Ghost Balls
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Aug 29, 2016 19:13
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B
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Aug 31, 2016 04:23
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A
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Aug 31, 2016 05:38
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 12:58 |
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 You find yourself uneasy as you make your way through the squalid down-stack slum where Pnakoptis keeps its clinic. Not merely the circumstances in which you've found yourself, though those are indeed quite a lot to deal with. Your precipitous rise through the underworld of Thoon has brought you from dragging yourself from the (often literal) gutter to meeting with a member of one elder race to consult on how to deal with artifacts of another. But it is your immediate surroundings that trouble you with greater insistence. You would be hard-pressed to identify the exact nature of the problem to another, but to you, the patterns are simply off. The teeming masses of this hab, normally sullen and lethargic, seem to possess a certain manic energy. Beings who would normally pointedly ignore your passing, or perhaps spare your augs a covetous glance, now conduct their illicit business with a fervid intensity. Fevered pacing has replaced the hopeless slump of the weary indigent, and voices mutter just beyond hearing, their words masked with a sinister incomprehensibility. Even the scrabs scurrying in the dim margins seem out of sorts; you are increasingly convinced that the arthropoid scavengers, usually prone to chaotic hungering swarms, are flowing in distinct, albeit alien, formation. You check your pulser in its belly sling and attempt to hurry on your way while maintaining your steady and purposeful mien. Just as Pnakoptis's clinic enters into view, you experience an odd burned taste at the back of your tongue and sense a presence in your starboard blind spot. You immediately turn while skipping out of reach, one claw resting obviously on your weapon.  An insectoid visage greets you, a species with which you have no familiarity. The being is quite large for one who approached you so silently; in fact, judging by your surroundings, you find it difficult to determine how it managed to get where it is without physically pushing past you, let alone alerting you. This, combined with your existing unease, does not leave you with the most personable of attitudes. You scowl, making no move to unhand your pulser, and silently move Scuzzy Jr. into position. The being stares for a long moment, compound eyes gleaming in the green murk. A series of some sort of feelers twitch and flick around its gleaming, crystalline mouthparts, and you can hear the faint creak of exoskeletal plates rubbing together as it sways ever so slightly on its clawed feet. Just as you are about to bark a brusque command, the creature speaks, or at least, communicates. You feel an uncomfortable and alien brush on the back-inside of your skull, as if you'd backed into an unfamiliar ornamental plant in the dark. The creature's mouthparts chime together, and spice-scented air escapes from spiracles in its "neck", but somehow you find you have no difficulty understanding it. "I mean you no harm at this time," the being, who you somehow know is called Coleops, utters. "I bring a warning. Do not consult Pnakoptis on your current task. Do not provide Pnakoptis artifacts acquired on your current task. Do not provide these relics to any being who might do so." "What?" Regal Kore, rhetorical master. "It would be best," Coleops continues, "If after you slaked your curiosity, you were to destroy the site. Any artifact claimed from the site brings with it...peril...to your people." "What is this about," you demand. "What is Pnakoptis to you?" "Nothing. Yet." You are silent, but inside, you growl with frustration. "This is more Elder maka-drokk, isn't it? You're going to come down here and drop ultimata and vague threats, but you're not actually going to tell me anything useful." "Yes." You grit your teeth audibly. "What kind of peril to my people," you hiss through clenched fangs. "Can you at least tell me that?" "Existential. To both our peoples. Learn what you will. Acquire data. Do not share it with Pnakoptis. Bring no artifacts from the site." "I see. So we'll just ignore how much we've invested in this op, then, and pass up the potential score of a lifetime, on the august say-so of the Honorable Rando McMandible. And you think--" you fume, working up a respectable charge of bluster, but even as you do so, Coleops steps sideways-beneath, and is gone in a twist of perspective and whiff of pungent vapor. You sneeze. Twice. You take a calming breath, scratching at your tingling nostrils, and muttering dark, but ultimately unlikely, imprecations on the odors, parentage, and parasexual predilections of Elder species. You review Scuzzy's perspective on the being's exit, and predictably come away with no greater insight than before. Your ultimate intentions whether to heed Coleops's infuriating advice notwithstanding, do you still want to go see Pnakoptis at this particular moment? A. Yes. I said I wanted to do the thing, and I didn't come down to the place to not do the thing. B. No. Between Voulge's ambivalence on Pnkakoptis, my general unease, and Coleops' dire portents, this objective has lost its savor for me.
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Aug 31, 2016 19:17
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