Sereth:

The spacecraft around you shakes and shudders.  The people jammed into the cargo hold with you jostle and grab at any support.  As a series of impacts rock the vessel, and you barely keep your footing.

Getting into the vessel seemed like a prudent course of action at the time, when the enemy bombardment began.  You had been directed to travel to the Arsuran system to gather information on a faction of Earthmen calling themselves The Fists of Thirty Suns.  Normally, squabbles among Earthmen were of little interest toward you -- but then, there was the way that the name of the group kept changing, with the number of suns going up with each new report.  And there were also the interests of Draconian subjects to consider, to say nothing of the personal interest shown by the Imperial household.

You have learned a bit about the Fists in your investigations.  They are said to be unlike most other Earthmen: resolute and disciplined in battle, devoted to their personal physical perfection.  They seem, however, to lacj an appreciation of the scope of history: they deem that rule is their due and they would overthrow order to claim it.  This makes them both like and unlike your own people: the similarity makes them dangerous; and the differences make them unpredictable.

You were on Arsuran Orbital Prime when the loudspeakers started blaring the alarm and the plasma bombs started to erupt in Central.  It galled you a bit to turn from an honorable battle, but there was only so much even a Draconian warrior could do with just a blade and a pistol, and no one, you noted, was offering you an interceptor to pilot.  So you found yourself helping to organize the many panicked hands clearing cargo out of noncombatant vessels, to make room for evacuees.

The situation, however, deteriorated faster than expected.  You'd found yourself swept into the hold of a stubby freighter called the Lucky Drifter, and you are coming to realize that this may have been a grievous error, possibly a fatal one.  Your hope had been that any ship captain would at least understand basic evasive maneuvers, but – though you have only the pitch and sway of the vessel under your feet to judge by – this ship's pilot clearly does not.  You fear that this ship is being flown by a shopkeeper, a fact which may doom all aboard.

As you reflect on this, a more powerful blast than any of the others slams into the ship.  Refugees of all species are sent sprawling: Earthmen, Silurians and Martians, even a few of your fellow Draconians.

As you pick yourself up, you can feel a rough vibration through the decking, possibly indicating some engine damage.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:26, Sat 30 Nov 2013.

Smoke Alarm:

You tether yourself to a cargo bracket fixed into the wall of the sky-fly and do your best to ride out the buffeting.  Sky-flys unsettle you.  The insides of this one are gray and stained and metal and rough, and it almost reminds you of home, but the main thing about sky-flies is that they go up, and a childhood filled with tales of the Great Pool In The Sky still makes you wary of doing that.

But it was the only way to get around in the Big Black.  You've heard it said that every light in the Black was a world, and every world was big enough to contain thousands on thousands of Towers.  It's almost too much for your brain-box to take in.  So much to see!

And you've had seen a lot of them.  Still, the one they called Arsuran Orbital Prime was even stranger than most.  You hadn't meant to end up there – but you got from place to place by hopping on sky-flys, and sometimes you didn't know where they'd end up, particularly when you didn't exactly ask permission first.  (Not that there is any good reason to.  A sky-fly is like a Tower, and the Tower belonged to everyone, leastways as much as you and your fellow Kangs could stake out for yourselves back in the day.  Is it your fault if people don't mark their places with proper wall-scrawl?)

On Arsuran Prime, though, the ground curved up and away from you in two directions, until it met itself far, far over your head, and then one direction was always sunshiny, and the last direction was always filled with a big red-and-blue ball that they said was another world.  It took some getting used to, but you were just starting to get the hang of the place, when they came.

More sky-flys.

Sky-flys the color of old blood, that zoomed overhead and dropped big balls of glowing orange that burst and burned.  Sky-flys that brought wipeouts.

And then there had been people running and shouting and trying to find sky-flys to pile onto to get away from Arsuran Prime, all at once.  You managed to find yourself a place, jammed in among dozens and dozens of strangers; they were all meant to be there, so the people who ran this sky-fly were at least showing themselves to have some goodness in them.

Now, though, you're starting to get worried.  The enemy sky-flys must be after yours – you could tell by the shaking and rocking and occasional bang that flung most of the others around you from their feet, the ones that hadn't had the foresight of a Kang.  You wish you had a way to see out; you wish you had a way to do something.  This is no way for a brave Kang to be, helpless and waiting for someone to make her unalive!

—the little girl grabbed at the harness, pouting and irritated. She wanting to run free and play, but it was all buckled up tight now. 'All safe and sound.' said her mum reassuringly, stroking the girl's hair out of her eyes. There was water on her mum's face, and fear and sadness in her eyes, even while she tried to smile. The girl knew something was wrong; the grown-ups had been acting all worried for days, talking about something called "war" and "fight", while the thunder got louder and louder and towers fell down.

'Mummy!' the girl cried, realising she was going away, far away.

'Shush, hun. It's okay. You're going to a new home. I want you to stay close to Nanna, okay? Stay with Nanna. She'll look after you. And Puddy's here with you. See, there's Puddy.' The stuffed cat sat in the pouch with drink bottle and snacks, looking just as sad. 'Mummy and Daddy will be with you soon.' The mother kissed her daughter on the head, again, and tried to hug her, again. 'I want you to be a brave girl for mummy and daddy.'

'Brave.' she murmured, trying out the word.

Then Mummy was gone, and Daddy. Nanna was in another room. There were only the children in their harnesses, some eating, some playing, some sobbing and crying. Then the lights went out and the whole room rumbled and there was a loud roar and the girl was pressed into her seat and then somewhere an explosion and then everybody was screaming.

'Brave—'

---

'—and bold as a Kang should be. Brave and bold as a Kang—...' she muttered the mantra as she held tight to the strap looped around the bracket and her own wrist. Tied and true. She wasn't too bad at riding the smaller motions, the "turbo-lens". But when the room rocked one way, she swung far out over the ground. And when the room rocked back, she was slammed into the wall, knocking the breath from her and interrupting her chant.

But better this than to be out on the floor, holding nothing. She saw people standing being thrown to the ground. Those on the ground were bounced up and down. Some people were thrown into the walls and crates, and into those like her who'd gotten to the brackets and other handholds. She felt like she was in the trash compactor in the Basement. This was completely unfun.

Then she let go of her strap. In a moment of peace, she grabbed the hand of someone who'd fallen into her — an old Rezzie man — and clasped it to the strap. 'Be holding on.' she told him. After all, Kangs were young and strong, Rezzies old and weak. She moved out on to the deck, into the rolling crowd of people, falling over with them. People were getting hurt. People were crying and screaming. Scaredy-cats, she thought, but right now she felt like a scaredy-cat herself. So many people, youngsters, oldsters, inbetweens. Boys and girls. Aliens. All together now, like Kangs.

'Hold hands!' she shouted over the crying and the roaring and banging. 'Be holding hands!' She had a hard time making herself heard or known, so she simply grabbed two people's hands and linked them together, then pushed one at the old Rezzie. 'Hold hands! Line up!' Thus she shepherded the people together. Holding hands, one to the next, lining up across the cargo bay, they could all carry each other.


OOC: Keep footing: coordination + athletics: 14
Leadership: presence + convince: 8
Linking hands: coordination + strength: 16
This message was last edited by the player at 03:41, Sat 30 Nov 2013.

Smoke Alarm finds that she's able to steady and secure a handful of people right next to her, the ones she can reach right out to and practically put hand in hand on her own.  But her voice isn't carrying at all in the din of all the scaredy-cats, and some of those who can hear her don't seem impressed by the many badges of honor she has collected as a Blue Kang brave and true.

Sereth, across the hold, notices the Earth girl vainly trying to make her fellow travellers work together for their own safety.  She seems to have a fair idea of what she's about, but is plainly failing to command the respect to put her plan into action.

'Foot it over there, slowpoke! Hold hands, hook arms.' Smoke Alarm directed one reluctant man to move and link up, but to little response. Those who saw her looked on blindly. 'Cowardly cutlets! Do you want to be unalive?' Her struggle seemed futile. Beyond the little chain and web she'd formed, she couldn't get anyone to follow her idea, and it wouldn't work unless they all worked together. Was this how she was to be made unalive, to go to the Great Pool in the Sky? No, a Blue Kang would not be outgoing like this.


OOC: Just to gauge Smoke's reaction, a courage check: resolve + ingenuity + brave = 19, double-sixes.

The Draconian grunts and moves over towards the earth girl, and then speaks quietly.

"Listen to what the girl says. She may be just a girl; but in this, at least, she seems to have a fairly good idea as to what she's talking about." In particular; his eyes focused on other Draconians, willing them to obey -him-, if not respect the weak girl.

OOC: Not to clear generally, about when/what to roll, so bear with me. I'm guessing based on Smoke Alarm's post this would be convince + presence sooo...


Leadership: 10:34, Today: Sereth rolled 15 using 2d6+8. Leadership: Presence + Convince.

Some of the refugees in the hold recognize Sereth from when he was helping to direct the evacuation on the ground; some just respond to his imposing and assertive manner.  People start joining together, hand on hand.  Seeing how Smoke Alarm has tied herself off to a mooring bracket, some of them do the same with belts, harness straps, and sashes, bracing the frailer persons in the crowd as they do.

In a few minutes, they've formed a web of thirty-seven people linked together, helping each other absorb the jolts that continue to rock the ship.

Smoke watched in alarm as the giant scaly man approached her, wondering if meant some to-do against her. But then he added his voice to hers in trying to implement her plan, and actually got people moving. She gave him a thankful look, then linked her skinny arm with his strong one as they got others to form a chain.

Finally, Smoke Alarm found herself linked right and left to the lizard-man and all the other people, swaying back and forth and left and right as the ship was rocked and buffeted. Waves moved through the crowd, but no-one fell over or was thrown far. If one fell, there was someone to catch them and help them up. The ship turned and the deck tilted, and Smoke found herself half-falling down, held up by the strong lizard-man. 'Aaaah!' she shouted wildly, and then, incredibly, the Kang started laughing. Her plan worked! She was alive! This was fun!
This message was last edited by the player at 05:21, Sun 01 Dec 2013.

He grimaced as he held up the girl, not out of pain, or fear, but out of frustration. A frustration that only grew as the girl laughed.

"Whilst it is good that your plan worked little one, this is no laughing matter, and it's not over yet. This is no game."

He braced himself, and prepared for what was to come.

Smoke had her feet planted in a wide stance on the metal deck, rarely moving while she swayed with the ship and the whole crowd. 'Everything's a game, egg-head!' she teased, being pushed into the lizard-man. 'That is the Kang game. We laugh to not be unbrave.' Falling forward, she yelled in excitement as if she was on a rollercoaster, and, in a way, she was. 'Waaaah!'

Red lights start to flash on the walls of the hold, and a speaker crackles somewhere.  A scratchy male voice comes over it.

"Rivvan?  Rivvan, do you read me?  I'm showing a blowout in the starboard feed matrix.  Something hit us amidships and the main companionway is impassible.  You didn't answer the direct link, so I went to shipwide.  Rivvan, we need the starboard engine back on line!"

A few moments go by, and there's no response.  Then the same voice adds, "Rivvan?  Aw, hell!"  There's a palpable rise in the tension among the refugees in the hold; most of them are looking around even more nervously than before.

Around the hold, Serath and Smoke Alarm can see that there are a pair of hatchways heading forward and back through the ship.  Each of these has a small comm panel next to it.  In addition to those exits and the main loading door, there are several ducts for the ventilation system.

She heard the message, and although she didn't know who Rivvan was or what was wrong with the sky-fly, she knew it sounded bad and not to be laughed about. Was Rivvan unalive? She looked to the egg-head; he seemed to know was going on. 'Is the sky-fly broken?'

"This. This is no game." Sereth grimaced at the comm system. Whoever Rivvan was, chances are he was dead. And if they didn't move quickly so were they.

He tried not to let his concern show to any of the other refugees; for fear it would cause a panic.  The communications system might work; but it might also serve to panic people even further. Dammnit. He'd rather a one-on-one duel or even trying to deal diplomatically with humans than stuck aboard a ship that was being shot at.

A nod towards the girl.

"Yes. It is broken." A frown. "We must see about escaping, somehow."

Smoke looked incredulously to the lizard-man. 'Escaping? The sky-fly? How? We are in the high black sky now.' And they couldn't breathe out there and they would fall forever and ever and ever. Mop had told her that. Smoke missed Mop and the Exeter sky-fly and all her friends there. 'Can you make the sky-fly work?'
This message was last edited by the player at 01:57, Mon 02 Dec 2013.

"Me? Doubtful. Though maybe. Or maybe..." He trailed off, lost in thought. He then addressed the survivors as a whole.

"We're going to get out. No-one dies if I can help it. I'm going to see about repairing the ship; if any of you were an engineer or a spacecraft repairer in another life, come with me. The rest of you, you will be safe. Do not panic."

He gestured at one of the others who seemed to portray leadership qualities. "You're in charge until I return."

He frowned, and shook his head, moving towards where the Starboard engine should be, if this ship was layed out in the way he's used to.

"Little girl, you're with me too." Half-protective, half-condescending.

"I am Sereth of the Draconian Empire; and I shall not be laid low so simply."

She glared at the lizard-man, ready to protest at being ordered about like he was a Caretaker. She couldn't make his engines work. Then again, she didn't want to stand here doing nothing but play in the person-chain. She wanted to be outgoing, to explore and do things. She was a Kang, and she wouldn't wait to be made unalive. The egg-head needed her to find his way.

She separated from the chain and quickly helped the neighbouring two people link up, before walking off with the lizard-man to the carrydoor. 'Smoke Alarm.' she told Sereth of the Draconian Empire. It wasn't clear if it was a name or part of the fire safety system.

No one moves to join Sereth and Smoke Alarm as they open the aft hatchway and head through it into the companionway.  From here there is a narrow passage straight back toward the engine compartment, and a section that seems to branch around the cargo hold toward back toward the front of the ship.  The pair of them can feel heat radiating from the left-hand side of that branch.

Judging by what he saw of the Lucky Drifter's layout before boarding, Sereth believes the engines themselves will both be accessible through the aft compartment; more importantly, there should be diagnostic controls there that can give him a better idea of what he's dealing with.  The corridor sways beneath them for a bit as they make their way back and through the hatch into the engine room.

Smoke Alarm doesn't make much of the banks of controls and flashing lights she sees inside the compartment.  Her attention is immediately drawn to a woman -- old as a Rezzie -- crumpled and motionless against the base of one of the consoles.  There's a welt and a gash on the side of her head.

While Sereth isn't familiar with the exact model of ship or its systems, one thing he can tell right away is that there are a lot of warning lights flashing.    He also notes that there's a comm panel with a flashing yellow light of its own.

To interpret the readouts and determine what needs to be done would be a Tricky(15) Ingenuity + Technology roll.  Rules note: just getting assistance from another qualified character is typically good for a +2, and the information already conveyed over the intercom would qualify here, since it points you to what you're looking for.

As pretty as all the flashing lights were, Smoke couldn't say what half of them meant. Nothing good, though. 'This sky-fly is not shape-ship.' she muttered.

She left the egg-head to deal with it while she dashed to the fallen Rezzie. Oldsters were easily broken, she knew. One knife or arrow was enough to put them down. That was why they were so sneaky. Smoke wouldn't trust her, but she guessed this was the Rivvan meant to make the engine work. So, they needed this Rezzie. First, Smoke checked her air conditioning, by seeing if breath came out of her mouth, and she looked to see if red paint was still leaking out of her head. If both had stopped, then she was unalive.


OOC: Checking the old woman's injuries:
13:47, Today: Smoke Alarm rolled 13 using 2d6+5. awareness + medicine.

He examines the readouts carefully to figure out what to do, paying no notice,for now, to the probably dead Rivvan, and only -after- he figured out what to possibly do did he pay attention to the comm panel. That was no doubt the somewhat useless crew asking for help; and he'd answer that when he'd done something about it.

OOC:  20:57, Today: Sereth rolled 15 using 2d6+8. Ingenuity + Technology.

Smoke Alarm lets out a sigh of relief to find that the Rezzie is breathing.  Not ready to be sent to the cleaners yet!  But she doesn't rouse at Smoke Alarm's touch, and Smoke Alarm knows that sometimes forcing people back to wakefulness can be harmful.  The best thing for now might be to make sure that she doesn't get hurt any further from the jouncing and pitching of the sky-fly.

Sereth looks over the readings.  He sees that the starboard engine is shut down because a portion of the fuel and coolant systems supporting it are showing red indicators: it looks like an explosion has broken the lines and vented the contents to space.  The engine itself seems intact -- there are some temperature and stress warnings showing for it, but he doesn't see anything that would keep it from operating properly.

Both engines are designed to allow for isolating damaged feed lines and rerouting the redundant systems on port and starboard to serve both engines.  The port-side lines are intact -- the only consequence of rerouting the systems will be that the ship's range would be severely limited.

There is another problem.  The starboard damage has wrecked the automatic control systems for the feed network.  To carry out the rerouting, someone will need to throw the heavy valves by hand, and it looks as if this can only be done by going through a narrow crawlspace up toward the damaged area.  Someone will also need to be on hand to restart the engine when the fuel and coolant flow resumes.

'She's alive. Not ready to be taken to the cleaners. But she's broken.' she reported to Sereth. Smoke was a little lost as to what else to do. She was too hurt to play wakey-wakey, but she couldn't just leave her like this. What to do, what to do? The Kang hovered fretfully for a few moments, before drawing a knife on the Rezzie.

The knife was old and worn, the handle taped back together and the blade sharpened back so many times it was thinner and more wavy than any knife had a right to be. Part of the point served as a screwdriver in a pinch. It had served the Kangs in many different ways over the years. Once, it might have been a kitchen knife. Sometimes, it still was. Wielding her knife, Smoke attacked the woman's jacket, cutting it up and tearing off a long strip of strong cloth. Smoke's own clothes were already far too ragged.

She then wound the strip around the woman's head as a makeshift bandage, to keep the cut closed and the red paint in, then tied it tight like a bandanna. After that, she laid the Rezzie flat on the ground, bunching her remaining jacket under the head, so she couldn't bump around too much. That would have to do.


OOC: Applying first-aid to the woman:
22:55, Today: Smoke Alarm rolled 12 using 2d6+4. ingenuity + medicine.

My Keen Senses bonus of +2 might apply to the earlier examination.

A frown from Sereth. "Listen. I'm going to try to do something that gets the ship back in working condition. But you need to stay here, ready to get it back online, unless she wakes up."

He shook his head, and pointed out to her how to restart the engines when it was time. He didn't really want to go into the crawlspace himself; but there was no way he could ask a girl to go in and throw about the valves; whilst it should be no problem for the Draconian. Nothing for it.

Before he did so, he moved towards the comm area; and used it to hopefully communicate directly with the crew rather than shipwide.

"Right, Captain, you have a problem. Luckily for you, I can fix it. We believe we have Rivvan here; and she's alive, but in a bad way right now. There's... going to be some issues with what I need to do; but it's the only way to try to get the engines working anything like properly again. If you can spare anyone, getting someone down here to help would be ideal.

He sighed, and made any preparations he could.

Smoke watched the lizard-man explain all the button-pushing, then memorised the sequence by going over it herself several times. Although she didn't know what everything did, she was a clever-clogs who could work things out.

Then she looked in surprise as the big lizard-man outlined his own plan. Then she laughed. 'You, go creepy-crawly through the air ducts? You're too big! You'd get stuck like a fat Rezzie!' she laughed again. 'I'm small and quick. I'll be outgoing through in a jiffy.' she declared, and moved to the access hatch. She paused. 'Uh, what do I do?'

A frown as he eyed her. "Well, therein lies the problem. YOu may be small but you're also weak." He shook his head. "It involves moving quite heavy objects about so that it can be done." A look towards her; fully expecting her to acknowledge she couldn't do that.

Smoke Alarm wasn't dissuaded in the least. 'How heavy?' she asked, then raised her arm to display her arm muscles. 'I'm strong, I'm brave, I'm a training fighting machine.' she boasted, quoting Pex the Musclebrain. The small Kang went through other bodybuilder poses until she convinced the Draconian, though she didn't have much to show. But as scrawny as she was, she had a wiry, athletic strength packed into her small frame.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:04, Tue 03 Dec 2013.

"Eh?  Who's that?  Wait, it's you, isn't it?  Sereth?  The Draconian legate?"  There's a pause, and the captain -- Sereth recalls the man's name now, another Earthman named Henzler -- goes on in a worried voice.  "Sorry, Legate.  Rivvan and me ran this ship on our lonesome, couldn't turn a credit with more hands.  You've actually got experience with pulsed-ion systems, then?  What's the board telling you?"

He frowned at the girl's protestations but, though it galled him to admit, she might have a point.

"Very well then. What you need to do is..." And he explained to her in elaborate detail what needed to be done.

When the response came in, he responded in kind.

"Yes. It's me. I have some experience, though not as much as a Draconian pilot would have."A pause then, before he responded, checking the read-outs as he did so, to make sure there were no sudden changes. <DarkGreen>"Your starboard engine is under stress; but seems to still be intact. BUT, the lines seem to be broken from what I can tell. I can rereoute some of your starboard systems to enable the ship to get moving again; but it's range will be limited. WHich will be a problem if we're still under fire. My associate will be doing something to enable that. If there's only you and Rivvan, who's currently unconscious, I don't see an alternative."

There being only two could explain lack of evasive tactics, at least partially. Mind you, a trained fighter-pilot would still be able to; but he couldn't expect perfection he supposed.

Smoke Alarm nodded her head through the egg-head's explanation. She quickly got her bearings relative to the sky-fly, and repeated to herself the instructions. Go here, go there, shift some levers, got it.

While Sereth talked over the talkiphone, the Kang simply crawled into the narrow space, without a word of goodbye. Staying low, moving fast, she scooted down them like a rat. After evading those mechanical men through the sewers, this was getting to be old hat for her.


OOC: Finding my way and not getting lost:
10:23, Today: Smoke Alarm rolled 16 using 2d6+9. awareness + ingenuity + SoD.
I applied my Sense of Direction bonus.

Smoke Alarm winds her way through the ducting without too much trouble.  Way easier than making your way down the carrydoors of the Tower; not nearly as many ways to turn and get lost.

She finds the insides of the metal tube getting hot to the touch, and then all at once she finds the levers that the egg-head had told her about.  An experimental tug on one of them encounters more resistance than she'd expected, and it's hard to get good leverage twisted up in the pipe.  (Probably easier than the egg-head would have had it, though.)  Hadn't he said something about the pipes being busted open to the Big Black?  That reminds her of the horrible Cleaners and their Vac-You-Me tubes.

I'm calling this a Tricky Coordination+Strength roll.

"Get me both my engines," says Henzler, "and I'll take care of getting us away from the goons out there.  Sounds like we'll have no choice but to put down on one of the other orbital rings to try and get the Drifter sorted out proper, though."

Serath watches the pressure gauges for the feed systems.  The girl had scampered off without any way to signal him, so he was going to have to switch the system over and restart the engine quickly when she threw the valves, or risk venting all the fuel.

Another Tricky Ingenuity + Technology roll.

He watches carefully; really wishing she'd taken a way to communicate. They needed portable comms for sure!

He sighs though, waiting for when she achieved her end of the job, then preparing start the engine at that point.

13:56, Today: Sereth rolled 9 using 2d6+6. Ingenuity + Technology.
Dice were bound to fail sooner or later....

Crawling down the narrow duct, Smoke was worried to find it getting hotter, and felt too much like a Kang stuck in a wicked-witch Rezzie's oven, but no one had given her any sweets. That was disappointing, to be made unalive and cooked up and eaten and not even get any lollies. Or maybe she was actually going down the waste-disposal shoots, down to the Basement, to be mashed and minced and burned and fed to the Great Architect... Shaking her head, and reciting 'Brave and bold as a Kang should be.' Smoke Alarm recovered her courage and pushed on.

She came upon the levers sooner than she expected. She had expected a modest size room, a big block of controls, and some very big levers for her to hang off. She grabbed the first lever for the valves with both hands, and pulled. Although she was strong for her size, but had little weight to bring to bear, and couldn't shift the lever. She pulled! And couldn't even budge it. The rocking motion didn't help either, nor the sweat on her hands. Then Smoke attacked the levers savagely, trying to shake them up and up and left and right trying to loosen something. 'Yah-yah-yah-yah!' she growled.

Fiddlesticks! Smoke didn't want to go back and face the egg-head and admit she wasn't strong enough, that he needed to do it for her. Brave and bold as a Kang should be.

Finally, she twisted and rolled around in the duct with amazing flexibility, until she was facing the opposite direction. Now she brought her even-stronger jumping legs to bear. Clamping her boots around the lever, bracing her hands against the roof of the duct and her back against the base, Smoke pushed the lever, down, down...


OOC: Pull the levers!
16:11, Today: Smoke Alarm rolled 12 using 2d6+9. coord + strength.
Bah, no more than Normal. I'd like to spend a Story Point and bump that up to a Success vs Tricky, as under the "That was close, nearly didn't make it!" usage.

Sereth, you can spend two Story Points to do the same, turning your Bad result to a Success. An SP can be spent to improve the results of a check, by one grade per point, but never to more than a Success.

We need to get the engines going so the ship can escape the bad guys before they blow us up, so the situation is sufficiently vital for this use of a Story point.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:56, Tue 03 Dec 2013.

OOC: Okay then yes, I'd use those story points, because we do need the engines running. Or we get in trouble.

OK.  This, incidentally, is essentially where companions balance off against Time Lords: the Traveller can hit some crazy high numbers in her specialty areas, but has far fewer in the way of Story Points to toss around.

Generally it's to your advantage to look at the likely number you'll have to hit on the dice and pay story points for extra dice up front, as I described under your character writeup.

By the way, if you are declaring and making rolls before I set a difficulty for something, like Smoke Alarm has done a couple of times, I consider it completely legit to see that you've got a poor roll and add extra dice for Story Points.

Straining hard as she, Smoke Alarm finally gets the lever to slam home.  Now that she knows the trick of it, the others go easier.  She can hear a thrumming around her, food for thirsty engines flowing through the pipes.  Ice hot!

Back at the engine controls, Sereth sees the set of routing indicators for the feed system flip to green, and works through the restart sequence for the starboard engine.  There's some disturbing creaking and the stress indicators jump, but the readings settle in the green.

"Haha, good job, Legate -- we are go!" Henzler calls.  "Please be so good as to look after my lady for me.  Going to try to lose these guys and make for the Farhaven Ring."  The shipwide indicator for the comm system lights again.  "Ladies, gentlemen and others, hang onto your hats: we are about to do some flyin'."

Some more complicated maneuvering follows.  There are a few additional jolts of impact, but nothing new goes red on the damage control panel, so far as Sereth can see.

'Ha ha! Icehot!' Smoke laughed down the ducts as she got all the levers down, the valves thrown, and the sky-fly's belly started rumbling.

Rolling on to her front, she started crawling back to the engine room, to tell Sereth what an icehot job a Kang did.

Sereth moved quickly to Rivvan, trying to keep her steady through the manouevring, though his eye was on the console as well; making sure no more emergency lights started to flash. He didn't notice the girl return; or if he did, paid no attention.

The engines strain, all at once, briefly alarming Sereth, but Henzler puts in, "Coming in to land, now.  This might be just a little rough...."  And there is a bit of a bump when the Lucky Drifter comes to rest, but nothing very far from the ordinary.

What worries Sereth more, as the engines start their shutdown cycle, is that the ion reservoirs are practically exhausted.  From his briefings and review of the Arsuran system, he recalls that Farhaven Habitat was home to a small religious sect of mainly Earthmen, lacking docking, repair or refuel facilities so far as he knew.

Take care of any final shipboard business you'd like, and then check over in the Farhaven thread.  There should be a post describing the Lucky Drifter's arrival shortly.

Smoke emerged happily from the crawlspace, feeling like a rat in a wall-hole. 'I did it! Icehot lever pushing! Easy-peasy-pie!' she boasted, skipping over the effort required to shift the levers and throw those valves. She climbed the rest of the way out, and patted the dust off her ragged clothes. 'Did you make the sky-fly work, egg-head? Is it all shape-ship?'

It seemed it was, as the man on the talkiphone said they were coming to land. Already? Smoke Alarm held tight to the nearest thing that was nailed down, but there was no need as the sky-fly bumped down more softly than the earlier turbo-lence.

Then it was over. They'd escaped the wipeouts and fires and Caretaker sky-flies. They were alive, not unalive, not taken to the Cleaners, not gone to the Great Pool in the Sky. The Kang ran at the Draconian, threw her arms around him and jumped up and down with child-like joy. 'Ha ha! We did it! We're alive! Icehot!' Now this had to be a laughing matter.