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A just to be different, even though B sounds like the smarter choice.
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Feb 21, 2015 07:56
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sullat posted:B. "Hi. I represent a consortium of out-of-system mining interests, and we feel that your incessant infighting and price wars have lowered the price of mineralium far below what it should be. We would like to help you consolidate your hold on the mining operations here so that we can negotiate the price of mineralium upwards to where it should be. You can repay our investment by, I don't know, providing us with some captured labor for some of our more hazardous mining facilities." They capture a mine intact for us, we turn the miners over to, uh, job-retraining with the Mechanicus, and everyone's happy. Especially the people who have those annoying "critical thinking worrying" parts of their brains replaced with happy-drugs. I like it.
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Feb 21, 2015 07:59
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A sounds fun, B sounds profitable. First you get the money etc etc.
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Feb 21, 2015 08:37
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A. People will learn not to gently caress with us. Even if they don't know it was us. And the thought of a bunch of pirates hijacking a ship, prying open a crate and then drowning in roboluv gets me hard. Thought: If we are attacked by pirates and take care of them, does that mean the ship is ours? Why build a fleet when you can steal one?
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Feb 21, 2015 18:37
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Burn out the rot from among the mining clans. I'm sure that one of them is doing some sort of tech heresy that can allow the mechanicus to seize their "assets". And if they're not, well, that's what intelligence networks, shell-company-hired hereteks, and plausible deniability are for.
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Feb 21, 2015 18:52
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Sell our servo-skull to a mining clan, then invade claiming they own tech-heresy and need to be purged.
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Feb 21, 2015 19:04
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The Barren Fields, Furibundus The gun cutter banks carefully, dodging yet another cloud of debris, as you stand with the others inside the observatory dome. And endless field of floating rocks fills the void, each and every one clawed, melted, or burned with the efforts of industry. Were it not for the path provided to you by the contact your ship would be lost ten times over, trapped and doomed to a slow death as you impotently attempted to escape this maze of rock and mineral. The Barren Fields were not a place visited lightly, and only your existing contracts provided you any authority. In the end the decision was simple; bolster your fiscal foundation and the fun little jaunts could come later. That meant having an industrial base that could supply what was missing at the Reach, and in spite of the name and millennia of exploitation the Barren Fields still provided significant material wealth. The adamantine requirements alone of the ship raising you had deemed the Project were incredible. Out of necessity Footfall had little information about the nature of the effort, only the bill of materials and contractual requirements. You still had no idea how the Resurrection was to be raised, but whatever was happening required enough material to build a warship. Cornelius points to a distant light. “There, that’s our destination.” Even at this range you can see the immense bulk that forms the home of the Augmented, the Miner Clan you had chosen to support. The choice was actually a fairly simple one; this was the clan that had a close relationship with the Dynasty in the past and more importantly was the only one not associated with other interests. Like all clans the Augmented had staked their claim upon an asteroid and mined it until it was hollowed and dead before moving on. The veins had been rich and your Dynasty had benefitted greatly, but the fire that burns brightest dies the quickest. You had enough resources to complete the Project, but securing the future was essential. The primary rivals to the Augmented were the Laser Lords, a technocratic clan with extensive experience using photonic mining techniques. Where the Augmented smash and crush the rock, the Laser Lords burn through it with piercing fire. The Augmented have had their efforts to search for a new find hampered by the Laser Lords who had taken upon themselves to consider any visible presence near their claim to be an invasion. Augmented scouts had attempted several times to given the Laser Lords a wide berth, but any time a scout was found he was sniped with lascannon fire. Even if a new claim could be found it was unlikely the Augmented could relocate without coming under fire. It was an ideal situation for you to lend aid. If an asteroid could be near death, the rock you approached was evidently in that state. Countless boreholes and trenches run across its face like the branded and scarred skin of a flagellant. Plumes of toxic and volatile gasses dissipate into the void from numerous pipes attached to the modular refineries the Clans established on site. Numerous humanoids crawl over the celestial body, launching themselves from crevice to crevice through the microgravity without any tethers or safety gear. “They look like servitors,” Rast says as he peers with the augmetics in his helm, “but they move far too gracefully.” You activate a remote viewer and zoom in. Your Master of Arms is correct – the individuals are clearly human, but covered in crude augmetics such as rock hammers and pulse drills. Several traverse the void without suits, their throats and eyes replaced with full masks. +++ I suppose we never bothered to consider just reclaiming these instead? They’re halfway there. +++ You send a sharp glare at Crispy. “The Augmented have respectfully served my Dynasty for generations. Consider yourself and your own longevity in my employ before you make another suggestion like that.” +++ Duly noted. In the future I’ll refrain from suggesting that we mind-wipe people you like. +++ “We’re close to the destination, Lord Prosper,” your pilot says over the comm. “Auspex readings suggest the asteroid is not entirely stable, and the risk of exposure to the void is high even within the pressurized regions.” The menial doesn’t say the obvious, that you should prepare for the risk of the void wherever you are, and you briefly consider the culture of your Dynasty. Many Rogue Traders, hoping to establish an air of obvious superiority and respect, would see their underlings punished for daring to make a recommendation. Should you do the same? Or, given your youth and lack of experience, would fostering a more open culture be appropriate? It was something you had debated more than once in the days since the meeting with the Explorator. The void suit was bulky and uncomfortable in spite of its perfect fit. Rast, displaying a level of forethought that some might have considered paranoia, had spent considerable effort scouting out the area and then insisting you obtain the best quality protection available in Footfall. Obtaining a Selenite-pattern suit, with its integral impellor unit and reinforced construction, was trivial given your resources. Learning how to use it had taken the better part of several days, but under the surprisingly effective tutelage of Rast you were now well acquainted with the equipment. You didn’t like it, but that didn’t matter. The seals lock, and with well-practiced motions you observe the necessary rites to appease the Machine Spirit that inhabits your suit. It responds with a pleased tone, and you feel confident that it will preserve your life. Tempest, the plasma pistol, and the power sword also find themselves secured with mag locks. After a careful look over Cornelius as he returns the favor you both sign in the affirmative and proceed to the lock. Rast is already there, his power armor an impenetrable bulwark against the void, while Cripsy floats over his shoulder. “We’re set. Protocol dictates we not invade their home with force, and frankly I wouldn’t like our chances if we did, but backup is already suited up and ready to move for extraction.” You nod, remember that the suit won’t translate the message well, and reply over comms. “Thank you Rast. I doubt we’ll need them, but as always prudence is appreciated.” The airlock cycles and you walk down the ramp. The asteroid’s gravity is incredibly weak, but gravimetric panels embedded in the floor provide a pathway that keeps your feet firmly on the ground. You briefly turn around, observing the wonder and majesty of the raw void for a few moments. A thin ceramic-fibre weave is all that stands between you and the harsh vacuum of space, and all the hazards that reside there. You find yourself thankful for Rast’s attention to detail as the photo-visor embedded in your helm compensates for the hellish glare of Furibundus. You find yourself slightly less thankful as the giant interrupts your moment of peace by eclipsing the sun with his bulk. You move with the others to the heavily used airlock, noting with surprise how well it functions. Your surprise continues as you enter and the airlock cycles. You remove your helm as soon as your suit’s Machine Spirit permits, and the first breath of air is fresh and not at all stale or sour like you expected. In retrospect you should have expected a people whose lives and livelihood depends on technology to keep things well maintained, but even so the extent is notable. You turn to the others, noting that Cornelius has also removed his helm but Rast stays sealed. You consider saying something then think better of it, deciding it’s better that he look intimidating. The opposing door locks and begins to swing open. A myriad of new smells fills the airlock, some pleasant, some acrid. Volatiles from a welding operation mingle with the mouth-watering scent of grilled meat and a hundred other aromas that mark the presence of humanity. You breathe in deeply, accustoming yourself to the environment, and mentally run through your plan once again before crossing the threshold. A. Subterfuge is the key here. The gun cutter has been stripped of all heraldry, your own suit is unadorned, and even Rast has taken to blackening his armor. With no connection to the Dynasty, you will represent an anonymous “business interest” willing to fund a mercenary operation in exchange for favorable mineral rights and all of the prisoners. Hired mercenaries, combined with assistance of the Augmented themselves, will attack the Laser Lords and take their claim. Regardless of the success or failure of the operation, your involvement will remain hidden. B. A half truth is better with murder-servitors. The Augmented have a clear and close relationship to the Machine Cult, and you arranged to have a representative of the Adeptus Mechanicus join you. Granted it’s a servo skull, but what do these people know? It should be trivial for Crispy to fool these uneducated miners (after all he fooled you) to follow the wisdom of the Omnissiah and aid them in the Quest for Knowledge against the heathen Laser Lords. After all anyone who would disgrace the Machine Spirit of a laser weapon to burn through rock like a common pick is clearly guilty of heresy. To aid them a contingent of murder servitors will be dispatched to overwhelm the forces and ensure victory in the name of the God-Emperor and the Omnissiah. Survivors will be reprocessed so that they may serve humanity, and you are sure the Augmented will be all too eager to provide their saviors (notably you) with favorable mineral rights. C. It’s time you made yourself known. Rast has a very good reason to be concerned, as you have made no attempt to hide your presence here. Your suit is adorned in crimson and gold with the Prosper crest masterfully displayed across the chest, and you’ve made it clear you are here to render aid. More importantly the Laser Lords received a sum of money to “send a message” to the Augmented. They don’t know of your presence, nor will they be aware of the consequences of their attack on a Rogue Trader until it’s far too late. The reprisal will be public, it will be brutal, and your name will regain some of the glory it once had. Naturally you will be expected to lead from the front when you crush the Laser Lords and enslave the survivors. D. An alternative plan. Vote: http://goo.gl/Se8DJL Results: http://goo.gl/YnG4zG
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Feb 22, 2015 05:26
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C. It's time to flex a little bit and work on establishing that prideful presence in the area. e: voted in the offsite poll Brownview fucked around with this message at 06:46 on Feb 22, 2015 |
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Feb 22, 2015 05:39
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A
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Feb 22, 2015 05:41
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A. We have few resources but still many enemies left. It is better to move in the shadows- for now.
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Feb 22, 2015 05:41
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A. We're not big leagues yet.
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Feb 22, 2015 05:54
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I feel like deniability works best when you aren't playing your own Mr. Johnson, that's what cutouts are for. Plan A isn't a bad one, but since we decided to show up in person I feel like even if it's successful that if it then gets found out who we really are the Augmented may not appreciate us dropping by incognito to stir up a clan war for our own agenda, even if it proves to be a mutually beneficial one. They're going to feel like we're manipulating them (which we are) and given our spiel about how these guys have been faithfully serving our interests even after all the mud our name's been dragged through, they probably deserve better than that. So we go with plan C, fly the flag and be forthright (well, mostly forthright what with that "anonymous donation" to the Laser Lords). It's not only in-character for us being the prideful sort, but it also stands to reinforce those bonds of loyalty between our Dynasty and the Augmented that we're willing to deal straight-ish with them. The potential glory to be gained is just icing on the cake.
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Feb 22, 2015 06:00
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C
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Feb 22, 2015 06:22
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Just a reminder to please vote in the poll I link. It makes record keeping easier for me.
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Feb 22, 2015 06:33
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We need to make a splash right now. We need to show Footfall, the Koronous Expanse, and the galaxy to know that a sleeping titan has woken, that House Prosper once more has a Lord-Captain. I vote C!
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Feb 22, 2015 06:48
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C
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Feb 22, 2015 06:49
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Nobody actually knows what you look like, which is why you yourself could go to enact Plan A.
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Feb 22, 2015 07:03
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Beer4TheBeerGod posted:Nobody actually knows what you look like, which is why you yourself could go to enact Plan A. Right, my qualms aren't so much that someone will recognize us now as they are that someone might recognize us later, and even if things turn out beneficial for everybody loyal allies might not take so well to being manipulated like that.
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Feb 22, 2015 07:19
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Avarice would be best served now in silence.
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Feb 22, 2015 10:32
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If you don't vote C you are a callow disgrace
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Feb 22, 2015 12:11
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:If you don't vote C you are a callow disgrace A. We need to walk lightly until we have our ship. Then all will know our name and marvel in our splendor. As far as the Augmented feeling used, well, a gift of cash or augments or more mining claims will no doubt soothe any ill feeling, if they discover it was us that helped them increase their power at the expense of a bunch of jerks.
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Feb 22, 2015 16:48
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:If you don't vote C you are a callow disgrace Authority means a hell of a lot more when there's an armed ship to back it. Learn patience, young grasshopper.
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Feb 22, 2015 17:26
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I like working from the shadows. It is fun to see a plan come together.
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Feb 22, 2015 17:40
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Went with C. It seems like the kind of action a callow youth would take, and if we can convince our opponents that is what we are they're more likely to underestimate us in the future. Way better to have a reputation for recklessness that we can throw away when the time is right rather than a reputation for cunning and treachery. We want people to think we're full of youthful idiocy.
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Feb 22, 2015 17:42
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Horrible Lurkbeast posted:Authority means a hell of a lot more when there's an armed ship to back it. That's the whole reason Rogue Traders are the supreme authority on Footfall. Being King poo poo of Turd Mountain doesn't mean much in the face of 20,000 press ganged ratings.
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Feb 22, 2015 18:02
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Horrible Lurkbeast posted:Authority means a hell of a lot more when there's an armed ship to back it. Yeah, C is a great plan. With a ship to back it up. Now we gotta borrow one, borrow an army, and the message changes from "don't mess with us" to "hey, the Prosper dynasty can't avenge insults without help!"
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Feb 22, 2015 21:03
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Good points. I'll switch to A but I don't know if the webpage will let me change my vote.
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Feb 22, 2015 21:26
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A
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Feb 22, 2015 22:00
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RandomPauI posted:Good points. I'll switch to A but I don't know if the webpage will let me change my vote. I use it as a reference, but if there's a lot of controversy (like with this decision) I don't mind taking a poll from the thread. It's a shame we can't use the thread polling system and then reset polls as needed.
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Feb 23, 2015 00:02
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If the Augmented are the only clan without an affiliation, that means the Laser Lords do have a patron. Having a patron means we need a reason to fight them. C gives us a great reason. Also, why do we want to skulk around in the shadows? How are we going to gain glory that way?
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Feb 23, 2015 11:38
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A keep a low profile until our ship is voidborn.
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Feb 23, 2015 15:07
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Augmented Claim, Furibundus The hardest part of getting your suit was finding the right colors. Selenite pattern suits are traditionally white; getting one in the crimson and gold colors of your Dynasty took a bit of effort. The effect was worth it, as the people who pass by you immediately notice the Prosper crest and bow respectfully. It feels good to be in a position that reflects your station, and you feel yourself bolstered with self-confidence. You were a Rogue Trader, not some simpleton merchant, and anonymity did not suit you at all. You follow Cornelius, who seems to have some knowledge of where to go, and observe your surroundings. The Augmented were true to their name. Each and every one had some kind of cybernetic implant. Most were crude, bulky implements that you wouldn’t feel comfortable welding to a servitor. A few, those clearly in positions of rank, were better equipped with the sort of augmetics one might affix to a common soldier in the Imperial Guard. Those whose respiratory systems weren’t replaced with vacuum-capable systems wore rust colored void suits. You make a mental note to determine the viability of purchasing minerals with cyber-lubricant and patch kits instead of Thrones. You suspect you’d make a killing. Like all of the Mining Clans the Augmented made their home in the very tunnels they mined. This was the oldest part of the Claim and the tool-marked edges of every surface had been worn smooth by the steps of metal-clad boots and cyber-feet. Pre-fab plastic panels and corrugated sheet metal were bolted or glued everywhere to provide a modicum of privacy, and various stalls provided a myriad of goods and services. As you traverse into the deeper portions of the Claim, where additional airlocks provided more security against the void, you begin to see evidence of families. Children tend to algae ponds and watch over cages of small mammals that you suspect become food. As befitting a culture with a high mortality rate child rearing is communal and crèche based. You suspect many of these kids either do not know their parents or have already outlived them. A voice enters your ear via the microbead. Your systems were still patched in with the comm-net of the gun cutter and the pilot was speaking to the rest of the assault team. “Thermal signatures spotted at ten kilometers and closing. Indigenous sensors unlikely to detect their presence until a kilometer, if anyone is looking. Raising void shields. Beginning rituals of awakening for the main guns, in accordance with the Lord’s orders no outward signs of aggression will be displayed.” Another series of airlocks and you enter the refinery. Noise assaults you from every direction, pressure pulses from the refinery pistons physically impacting your chest like shock waves from an explosion. The smells of humanity are replaced with the acrid tang of chemicals and molten rock. Nested deep within the rock, the heart and soul of the Mining Clan lays in a position more protected than even the families. You note that several of the processors lay dormant and disassembled, ready to be moved on the second a new claim is found. This rock was dead, and only the lack of a new home kept the remaining units active as a scant percentage of material was extracted from the dregs of what was left. The voice in your ear returns. “Signatures have split up. Group primus is setting 5 kilometers away. Debris is getting in the way, but passive auspex and visual enhancements suggest an emplacement is being set up. Machine spirit suggests a 78% correlation with a lascannon. Firing solutions are being prepared. Group secondus is entering a roundabout path, staying outside of indigenous sensor range.” You see several men standing on a raised platform over the refinery. Each one is massive, with layers upon layers of muscle from extreme manual labor interwoven with a wide selection of augmetics. Rock drills, pulse hammers, cutting torches, claws, all are represented. As you walk up the metal stairs they turn to face you. As expected their modifications are significant – all of them have their faces completely replaced with unblinking glowing eyes and void-impervious respiratory systems. You stand atop the platform and nod respectfully. “You know who I am?” “We do,” the men respond together with metallic voices. The unusual accent is made worse by the mechanical voice modulators. One steps forward, green eyes peering seemingly through you. “The Augmented greet you as a friend, Lord Prosper. May the God-Emperor and Omnissiah render blessings upon you and your Dynasty.” From your briefing you remember that the Augmented were led by three men called the Claim Council. One was the Master of the Refinery, the lifeblood of the Clan. One was the Master of Mines, who carefully directed day by day operations. The third was the Claimant, the one who had first discovered the claim and led the Clan to their new home. Together they guided the Augmented and ensured the future of their people. You bow respectfully. “I thank you for your well wishes, and pray for the same upon your Clan. The Augmented have always been stalwart friends of the Prosper Dynasty, and I am here to show my appreciation. I understand the Laser Lords have made it impossible for you to move on.” Again the voice in your ear. “Secundus has found a route towards the Claim. Primus has established a lascannon emplacement. Machine spirits are awoken, but not enraged. Firing solution prepared.” You keep your attention focused on the Augmented, grasping the remaining organic forearm of the green eyed miner in greeting. A lascannon emplacement might be a threat if it weren’t for the void shields on the gun cutter. The ambushers didn’t know it, but the gun cutter was better protected than a small titan. Crispy interjects his own thoughts. +++ Analyzing data. Likely intrusion point is the refinery vents. Apparently the Augmented never considered the dormant pipes to be a security threat, likely because they expected to be out of here before that could happen. +++ “Acknowledged,” you hear Rast speak. With his power helmet on and his external speakers off you only hear his voice through the comm bead. “They’ll breach the seals and attempt to expose the whole refinery to vacuum. Prepare for void ops.” Neither you nor Cornelius move. This was why you had practiced so much. The subterfuge wouldn’t work unless the attack was real, and there could be no sign of your foreknowledge. The Laser Lords were led to believe this was an opportunity to push out a threat once and for all so that a mercenary company could hire the Augmented as shock troops. The man hired to facilitate the subterfuge was already dead. The Claim Council continues, ignorant of what’s coming. “Bastard LasLords are starving us out!” shouts another of the miners, this one with red eyes. “Them damnable toys they call ‘mining tools’ are a waste, half the payout gets vaporized with each shot!” Green eyes nods. “Yes, but they don’t have to worry about that when they can just move on. They’ve blocked off access and we’ve no place to go. It’s this or disperse.” The third one, a heavily augmented miner with piercing blue eye lights, speaks up. “We’d be dead in six months, either worked to death in another mining colony or shot to pieces pretending we’d be good boarding troops. And then our families would starve, or worse.” Red eyes shakes his head. Given his youth you suspect he’s the Claimant. “We have no choice!” he says angrily while slamming a piston-equipped arm onto the railing. The force of impact bends the metal significantly. “Either we attack, or we take our chances in another field.” Blue eyes shakes his head. You’re guessing from the chemical burns he runs the refinery. “Calm yourself, Erkund. Our situation is dire, but not so dire that we should speak of it in front of our honored guest.” You’re about to respond when the micro-bead erupts. “SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED! Primus is attacking!” At the same time the world above you explodes as the void seals securing the unused vents are breached. You watch with sick fascination as fire blossoms outwards, stops, and then is sucked back into the vents. The air is snatched from your lungs faster than you can think as klaxons blare. Explosively actuated pumps suck as much of the precious oxygen out of the room before the vacuum of space can steal it, leaving you with seconds to get your helm on and sealed. Fortunately the practice has indeed made perfect as you secure yourself and take in a deep gasp of precious air. The machine spirit of the suit chimes helpfully, letting you know that the suit is working and that you won't die. “Retaliate” is all you say over comms. Immediately Rast launches himself towards the breach, his augmented strength propelling him past the confines of the grav plates and through the far weaker embrace of the asteroid’s mass. The first of the LasLords who enters through the breach in the ceiling barely has time to register his predicament before your Master of Arms is upon him. The momentum of the giant’s flight is carried through the swing of the thunder hammer and ends in the rock behind the intruder. That the man’s chest was in the way turns out to be of no consequence. You turn your gun on the Claim Council. “Is this your doing?!” you shout. “My ship is under lascannon fire!” You hoped one of the Claim Council was smart enough to pick up on the clue, and to his credit the one you suspect is responsible for the Mines speaks up first. “We don’t use las weaponry, only the augments that the Omnissiah blesses us with! It must be the Laser Lords!” You maintain the charade for a hint longer, pretending to mull over the detail. “Pray you speak the truth; these assassins will not survive and we’ll see precisely who they turn out to be!” With that you launch towards Rast, who has taken advantage of the narrow confines of the vent pipes to create a killing field. You can see the expanding muzzle blasts of the massive bolter the giant is firing, but in the vacuum of space you cannot hear it. Your microbead activates. The pilot is calm and collected. “The Machine Spirits are roused. Reprisal pattern Vengus.” You hear a roar from an angry god overwhelm the comm and then the pilot speaks again. “Primus threat eliminated. Engaging Secundus.” You take position next to Rast, and to your surprise Cornelius takes cover nearby and draws a carbine looking device. With a careful motion the weapon expands into a long las. The seneschal sets up position and you see the weapon recoil, but there is no telltale lance of fire. Instead the head of one of the LasLords simply explodes. You contribute your own fire from Tempest, firing golden spears of pure energy that ride on a crimson targeting beam. The attackers retreat desperately only to find themselves facing your gun cutter. Large caliber shells intended to destroy starships detonate amidst unprotected flesh, causing human beings to turn into expanding clouds of wet meat. It was over in seconds. You relay orders with absolute surety. “Secure Primus, see what’s left. We’ll take care of Secundus.” Rast moves forward to inspect the remains; there are no survivors. Each body is carrying a lasgun and pistol, eschewing any kind of melee weapon for ranged firepower. Surprisingly each body wears a suit covered in reflec, or at least a passible imitation of it. Clearly these men knew their laser weaponry. You grab a lasgun and note its craftsmanship before passing it to the Claim Council who has jumped nearby. With no atmosphere communication is impossible, but each of them looks at the weapon and back at you with hatred in their eyes. You have them. What’s next? A. Anonymous Mercenaries. The Crimson Guard are elite, but even with the aid of the Augmented they lack the numbers to take on a fortified Mining Clan claim. You have the justification to make a public example of the LasLords but is that in your best interests? Hiring a mercenary company, preferably a reputable one that uses ballistic weapons, will allow you to maintain separation from the actual event. Taking prisoners will cost a premium that may encourage the Mechanicus to demand compensation, but you will also get first access to anything of interest inside the claim if you stay close to the action. B. Murder-Servitors. Your alliance with the Adeptus Mechanicus can be made more visible, and assaulting a claim with murder-servitors will send a significant message about who supports you as well as the consequences. The Augmented will have to be careful as the servitors will care little for who they harvest. As casualties will be entirely on the Mechanicus, you expect that you will be able to maximize your claim on anything of interest inside. C. Outright Assault. Rather than anonymously hire mercenaries, you will go the other route and make a full frontal assault. Any who criticize your use of mercenaries to supplement the full regalia of the Crimson Guard will have to take note of the ferocity of the response. With proper support the casualties should be quickly returned to the Adeptus for conversion. D. Subterfuge. You have no need for mercenaries or even the Machine Cult. Your Crimson Guard are elite, superbly trained warriors who are more than capable of the type of special operations necessary. The primary strength of the LasLords is their ranged weaponry; take that away and they will fall easily to the specialized close combat abilities of the Augmented. You will use the funds provided to outfit your troops with the best equipment available, infiltrate the claim with stealth, and then use the weaknesses of the LasLords against them. E. Something else. I’m going to stop using the web poll, since I like the idea of people combining plans and working out a final concept that the web poll may not necessarily capture. Beer4TheBeerGod fucked around with this message at 05:51 on Feb 24, 2015 |
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Feb 24, 2015 03:01
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B
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Feb 24, 2015 03:08
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B + D
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Feb 24, 2015 03:19
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C in for a centi-throne, in for a full throne. The point of going this route is not only to acquire the personnel for the Adeptus vessel, but to do so in a public way to let people know that our dynasty has returned. For good or ill. We need to make this a public operation. Hire some merc ships to neutralize the ranged weapons, send the mercs and the augmented into the breach to lead the charge, with the Crimson guard providing close support. Maximize our public appearance (minimizing the cost by letting the mercs go first, naturally). Keep the adeptus out of it for now, they wanted us to deal with this for them, not drag them into the process of acquiring conscripts.
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Feb 24, 2015 03:44
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Having to hire in or use allies to take down mining scum? No, I think not. We will be laughing stocks if we do. We need to do this fast and hard- ourselves. D.
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Feb 24, 2015 04:03
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Slaan posted:Having to hire in or use allies to take down mining scum? No, I think not. We will be laughing stocks if we do. We need to do this fast and hard- ourselves. This
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Feb 24, 2015 04:11
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Slaan posted:Having to hire in or use allies to take down mining scum? No, I think not. We will be laughing stocks if we do. We need to do this fast and hard- ourselves. Yeah, I agree. Do it ourselves.
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Feb 24, 2015 04:27
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BBeer4TheBeerGod posted:“Retaliate.” Is all you say over comms. Immediately Rast launches himself towards the breach, his augmented strength propelling him past the confines of the grav plates and through the far weaker embrace of the asteroid’s mass. The first of the LasLords who enters through the breach in the ceiling barely has time to register his predicament before your Master of Arms is upon him. The momentum of the giant’s flight is carried through the swing of the thunder hammer and ends in the rock behind the intruder. That the man’s chest was in the way turns out to be of no consequence. This owns.
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Feb 24, 2015 04:30
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| # ? Apr 29, 2024 16:42 |
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Slaan posted:Having to hire in or use allies to take down mining scum? No, I think not. We will be laughing stocks if we do. We need to do this fast and hard- ourselves. Agreed. We're big kids, we can do it ourselves
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Feb 24, 2015 07:16
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