Smoke Alarm pouted as Sereth took over at the talky button, her brief role as chief as negotiator lost. 'I coulda talked it better.' she muttered and outlooked back at the picturespout eye to eyespy what the coming-in caretakers did next. She touched the large reddy blob to read what what it said about the pool cleaner they were inside now.

There is silence for a brief, agonizing space.

Then from one of the consoles that no one is currently attending, everyone notices a bulblike protrusion pulse blue.  Above it in the air, an image shimmers into existence, milky blue and shimmering.  The face it displays has two deep-set eyes under a sloping carapace, hard mandibles at the corners of a slitlike mouth, and grooves that might be a sort of gill.

"'Legate Sereth'," it says.  "We will not debate our morality or our right to the resources we have always exploited for the good of our species.  The leviathan's rights are the same as ours: to fight and to survive.  This is the way of things.  You are another matter.  We see no empire here.  We see strange soft beings inhabiting our outpost and proposing to challenge our rights to our world and the work of our minds and hands.  How came you here?  What is your claim on Benificence?"

Smoke Alarm notes that the arrangement of the boats around "Poppa" has shifted slightly.  They've backed off from it slightly.  Her tactical acumen is sharp enough to recognize that this change, while of less direct threat to the great creature, also leaves them more flexibility to move on the station.

Smoke Alarm outlooked up at the funny-looking face of the caretaker, frowning at its mean words of claims and rights. It was mayhaps so, but it didn't have to be that way. She eyespied the action on her own picturespout. 'Coming-in pool-ships have stop-signed, loitering around like cats.' she advised.

Smoke Alarm's attention fixes back on the eyeball picture-spout.  It's still only blips and blobs (and now the words) there, but the pattern seems strangely familiar.  Like a big pack of dogs circling a Kang, nerving themselves up to try to bring her down when they know that the first one to try it will be the first target for her arrowgun.

It doesn't feel quite the same as the Very Serious tone taken by the shell-face alien in the hollow gram, either.  Much more like nervous animals.  If she understands everything right, this place they were all inside was an unalive pool-cleaner.  Were the other blips more pool-cleaners that the shell-faces were using?

Maybe even ones not unalive?

'Or dogs.' Smoke Alarm revised, studying the activity on the picture-spout and eyespying the meaning. She talked quietly, so the pool cleaner (and that was definitely what the shell-face one had to be) on the picture spout couldn't drop-eaves. 'They're playing wary-go-around, keep-away – they 'ware the Poppa and us. Cowardly cutlets! They act all bold, but they're unbrave!' she hissed, gleeful.

She reflected on the pool-ships circling on the eyeball – not pool cleaners now, but le-via-thans; sometimes a Kang needed a larger vocabulary. Momma and Poppa and Baby were called leviathans, and the leviathan interdictor and level six leviathan were also leviathans, of course. So leviathans were pool-ships; she got that. No, they were recycled and renovated into pool-ships; the Inbetweens had talked that before. But unalive leviathans surely couldn't swim, and the ones on the screen moved like alive cats and dogs. The leviathan pool-ships had to be alive. The letters a, l, i, v, and e were right there at the beginning even, a clue.

The realisation dropped on her like a ceiling panel. Alive animals, alive people, guttered and cut up like food, stuffed with picturespouts and puters and mechinery, made over into towers and ships, feeling with people like ants. While alive, a life of hurt and fear. Worse than Rezzies. The Kang turned paler, her stomach rolling at the thought. 'The pool-ships, the alivethans are alive.' she gasped, shuddering in horror.

"The Roman Empire claimed that slavery was the way of the world," As she gets ready to send a pulse through what was left of the ships neural pathways, to unlock the child. "But things change. I can show you a thousand and one ways that this is unnecessary, and that you needn't work your hands to cause another thinking, feeling being pain. Far be it from me to tell anyone else how to live," says Trav, as she whirrs, whirrs into the remains of this Leviathan's brain, "But as thinking and feeling creatures you can agree that unnecessary harm is immoral. This is a predicate of language and existence. You don't get to opinion or culture you way past it. This is objective."

"So, allow me to introduce myself. I'm the Traveller. I'm from far away. I'm crazy and I have no plan, no back up and just a few friends. I'm on a dead hulk of a ship and I'm protecting a child and a parent from a pack of hunters. But I've killed civilizations and brought down gods and if you clowns know what's good for you're going to listen to me."

Trav aims her sonic at the floor. "I'm going to let this child go, and further, I and the Ambassador here are going to make a lasting peace between the the ancient one and it's child and your people. I could give two fucks less the way things have 'always been' because they've always been bullshit. Change always comes, and natural selection comes in many forms - guess what, jackassess - it's wearing a fedora and has blonde hair and has two hearts. We're going to figure out what you need to harvest from them and figure out another way. Do you know why? BECAUSE I WILL SEE NO MORE CHILDREN BEING MURDERED. I don't care what your fucking people need to survive, you don't need to kill KIDS. THAT IS A CHILD. How would you feel if someone came and harvested your children for food? You wouldn't care that they needed it for medicine or food or power or whatever! You'd be enraged! So, you have a choice. We either work out what your people need, and we both win, or, we fight. If we fight? We'll... things won't go well for you. This is for the sake of your children, as it is for those of the Leviathan." And out come those chilling words.

Trav is nearly shaking with controlled rage.

OOC:10:42, Today: The Traveller rolled 23 using 2d6+16 with rolls of 2,5.  Ingenuity 8+Science 6+Sonic 2+2d6.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:46, Mon 31 Aug 2015.

Uh oh.  Since no one did step in to give support on the technical task (per post #181), that's a bad failure.

Before I proceed with a result, I'll give you an awful choice to make:

You can spend 1 Story Point to improve that to an ordinary failure.  The broad result there will be that it doesn't work, and there is some real structure damage.  Not imminent catastrophe, but it will give the base a definite sell-by date and stress its systems for dealing with further damage.

Or you can let it stand.  I'll give everybody in the group one story point.  In this case the damage will be severe -- but it will be so severe that it frees the entrapped baby.  It also means the base will not be viable for long at all.

(This is a dramatic moment and a very dramatic statement by Trav.  On that basis I don't want to let you simply buy a success with story points.)

I'm thinking I want to let it stand. But I also don't want to endanger other PCs. SPs don't exist ICly. What do you ya'll think? If we have the resources to get everyone out on aqua scooters and back to the TARDIS, it might we wiser from an OOC POV to simply release baby and blow this place, plus exciting escape scene. Discuss?

This message was last edited by the player at 13:37, Tue 01 Sept 2015.

As Trav triggers the sonic screwdriver, the vibration and shuddering that the structure briefly experienced earlier starts up again.  Lin, watching the monitors of her own laptop lash-up, says with a certain hint of girlish excitement, "It's working... it's working...."

And then, everything goes directly to hell.

A gruesome CRACK shakes the deck.  Then the whole thing pitches sickeningly beneath everyone's feet.  Lt. Flynn is thrown off balance, staggers a few steps, and topples over as her bad leg buckles.  And from deep below, there's a series of popping and cracking sounds, and it does not stop.

What light there is in the place starts to flicker.  On the console / growths around the control, previously dormant panels start to light up in patches of bioluminescent red and yellow.  Stanley spots one near him which is showing script that reads ENVIRONMENT BREACH.  Lin stares at Trav, horrified.  Colonel Rayburn is staring at her, too, and says, "What.  Did.  You.  Do?"

However:

In all of this, as Smoke Alarm starts to slide across the tilting deck, she manages to catch hold of the console with the eye-picture-spout, and she sees something very significant.

There had been one red blob in the midst of all the hunter-alivethan-dog blips.  Now there are two, one of them smaller and darting around free as a Kang.

And a high vibration rings through the structure, and a clear impression comes through to everyone's mind, not only to the Traveller's:

you who is help!

YOU who is LARGE!

is has OUT!

'Poolquake!' Smoke Alarm yelled as the whole tower went topsy-TV about them. With the cat-like reflexes of a girl who normally threw herself off buildings for kicks, her hands darted out and caught the console, fingers gouging into the jelly-like eyeball. If they hadn't been in such perilous circumstances, she might have found it much more gross and icky thank she did.

Then she eyespied the second blob. 'Another alivethan! Baby's a freebie!' she cheered, happy for the huge and unseen alivethans despite the poolquake. As their voices were heard, she looked up in wonder, and outlooking for the talkers of the PA system.

But the poolquake kept rolling and rocking the tower. 'This isn't shape-ship and sound no more! Fire escapes, all speed! Don't use alleviators in emergency event!'

"Yes, we have to get out of here." Stanley agrees, whilst trying to stay on his feet. "This thing is starting to flood, if I am interpreting this display correctly."

The UNIT team, already in their dive gear from when Stanley and Sereth ventured out, start moving.  Lin pops a hard drive and memory sticks out of her laptop and leaves the machine itself with the rest of her lash-up; Rayburn and Reed hoist backpacks, and they all pair off to close and dog down the helmets of their hard-shell suits.

Flynn trades a look with Rayburn.  The Colonel gives her a sharp nod, and then she's moving stiffly for the exit that leads toward the docking berth of the SPOT.

"I don't know how you were planning on getting out of here," Rayburn says.  "Flynn had the thought of making a diversion by aiming the SPOT straight at the bogeys, then bailing out before it gets to them.  Long as somebody can make a pickup on her.  You got any better ideas, now's the time to speak up."

'No!' Smoke Alarm burst in. 'Trav pinky-sweared to Big Daddy to stop the pool cleaners hunting the alivethans. And they're riding in alivethans. We can't throw SPOTs at them!'

Then she skidded across the brainquarters, to the picture-spout that had showed the crab-like pool cleaner, and tapped the red button again. Curious as a cat, she stuck her face up close and wide, eyespying the alien and his brainquarters. It was like a talkiphone between the alivethans, she realised. So who was dropping-eaves? 'You! Pool cleaner! Clab-man!' she shouted defiantly down the line, getting the caretaker captain's attention. 'We made Baby alive and free! Because the alivethans – the leviathans – are alive and free, they feel and have smarts like people, like you and us. You can't hunt them and gut them and recycle them and ride them around like trolleys! It makes you monsters! Parasites! Rezzies! Eaters of babies!' she spat all the abuse she could think of, recalling the Great Architect's Kroagnon's efforts to use corpoelectroscopy on Kangs and Rezzies and Caretakers, removing their brains and riding them around.

'Shut up!' she yelled, before it could open its flap and splutter, coz she wasn't done yet.

'Leviathans! You hear me! You're not ships and towers! You are alive and free! You feel and think! These pool cleaners and crabs are just hanging on you like fleas! Be free! Jump up and down, swim around, run fast, shake them off! Help us free Baby! All the babies!'



OOC: Now that's Kang diplomacy. :) I want to give the aliens a serve, then talk to the leviation ships themselves, and provoke them into revolt, Kang-style. After all, I spent two SPs on learning, it's got to be useful. :)
14:34, Today: Smoke Alarm rolled 21 using 4d6+3 with rolls of 5,5,6,2. presence(2) + convince(1) + 2d6 (correct).
I don't know what bonuses I might get on this; Kangliness isn't a trait, but I think it suits.

I spent a SP to add +2d6. I wanted to do that first, but kept hitting the new, inconveniently placed Refresh button and had to start again. When I finally got it right, I forgot the SP. Hence I rerolled correctly.

Smoke Alarm gets a sinking feeling as she sees on the sputtering and flickering display the pack of alivethans spreading and arrowing toward the red blobs of Baby and Poppa.  She's feeling an awful pressure and popping noises in her head, like when you're trapped in an alleviator and it goes into free-fall.

Then the pressure itself goes POP.

She's not sure what just happened, because she can feel the air pressure around her continuing to build, the cracking and popping noises from down below going on and on, and the noises of the two friendly monsters still ringing through the hull.  The display finally crackles and dies, and most of the soft light around the room goes out, leaving only a slowly fading glow from panels here and there.

But now there's a fresh chorus of noises mixed in with the sounds of Baby and Poppa, too.  They're not quite making funny head-words like Baby just did.  But the rhythm of them is weirdly familiar to Smoke Alarm; she almost thinks she recognizes it:

EEEE eeee
EEEE eeee
EEEE eeee ee EEEE

EEEE eeee
EEEE eeee
EEEE eeee ee EEEE

Recovering from the horrible falling feeling with her ears feeling all poppy, and surprised to lost-and-found herself sound-and-safe, Smoke took a tick-tock to get her maps right-way-round in the lights-out brainquarters. Had it worked? Had the alivethans revolted? Then she heard the sing-song echoing all around, a song as old when time start, a song of freedom and defiance and pride, the song of her heart. Smoke Alarm whooped and jumped up and down in joy. 'Blue Kangs! Blue Kangs! Blue Kangs are best!'

"I don't know if you have convinced the aliens that Blue Kangs are the best, but we should get going." Stanley says as he helps Lt. Flynn get back on her feet. He doesn't like the fact that the lights in the room were going out.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:29, Sat 12 Sept 2015.

'Now fire escapes, all speed!' Smoke Alarm cried, finishing her victory dance and haring for the brainquarters' exit with the proverbial all-speed, skidding over the rocking floor and bounding over toppled junk. But she wasn't leaving her friends in her wake, no; she was a blazing a trail through the collapsing tower. Outlooking around the corners, outlooking through the maps in her mind, tracking back this way and that, she navigating the ever-changing maze with the skill of a well-trained laboratory rat. She paused at one junction and waved her friends to follow. 'This way! Follow the leader!'


OOC: Finding the safest and/or shortest route to the SPOT and where we left the aquacycles: 21.
10:01, Today: Smoke Alarm rolled 21 using 2d6+11 with rolls of 5,5.  awareness(4) + ingenuity(3) + Keen Senses(2) + Sense of Direction(2).

Smoke Alarm is rather at home in disintegrating buildings, although not usually ones falling apart quite so rapidly as this one.  Her instincts for navigating are serving her remarkably well in this situation.

In the dim illumination, several of the travelers notice that one of the forms in the bulky UNIT pressure suits is having an awkward time trying to keep their footing on the shaking deck -- probably Lt. Flynn.

OOC: You should all come to a decision on how you and the UNIT personnel are dividing up among the available vehicles.

I'd also like everyone to make a Strength + Athletics or Coordination + Athletics roll to get to their destination safely as the base starts to come apart.  I was going to have this be a Tricky(15) difficulty, but I'll say that Smoke Alarm's navigational direction downgrades that to just being Normal(12).  Meanwhile, Flynn is going to need help with her bad leg, so someone who chooses to assist her can take a -2 on their roll.

Stanley appreciates Smoke Alarm leading the way. They have to make their way through a decaying structure in the dark and he can use all the help he can get. Especially because he is also helping Lt. Flynn, who was having some trouble. Stanley relies more on finding the right footing instead of raw strength to help Flynn get past the obstacles in their way.


OOC: Spending an SP. Stanley is going to help Flynn.
21:39, Today: Stanley Newton rolled 15 using 4d6+2 with rolls of 1,6,5,1.  Coordination(3) + Athletics(1) + Helping Flynn(-2) + SP(+2d6).
 

'Come on, slowpokes!' Smoke called from the corner, coaxing her companions on down the carrydoor. El-tee Flynn's broke leg was slowing them down, she eyespied, but no Kang got left behind. She made sure to find a sound-and-safe way they could all follow, though she could've gotten over that yawny chasm a way back easy-peasy all by herself. She had the grappler gun ready-steady on her belt. 'You can do it! Be brave and bold as Kangs would be!'

In the next carrydoor, the floor was falling down, full of nasty outlooking gashes. It would takes ages to run the long way 'round. Smoke Alarm pushed the toe of her boot against the meaty-looking floor, finding it shape-ship and sound enough to walk on, at least. 'Okay, the next carrydoor's all holey. Hold hands tight! We play skip-hop-jump!' Smoke held her hand out to the next person, then led them skipping and hopping over and around the holes. That might be a new experience for UNIT soldiers and Draconian ambassadors.


OOC: My Coordination + Athletics roll is 16, with +2 if it involves jumping (AoE: Jump) and +2 if it involves acrobatics (Kang Fu), so it could get to 20.
10:32, Today: Smoke Alarm rolled 16 using 2d6+9 with rolls of 6,1.  coordination(5) + athletics(4).

By the Story Point rules (“Like this, Doctor?” in the original), with Smoke Alarm showing everyone what to do in advance, you can spend an SP and use her Athletics skill, 4, in place of your own.

Furthermore, I still have nine SPs, so I will share one each to anyone who needs it for the above.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:19, Mon 14 Sept 2015.

The Draconian, as always, waited till everyone else was out before moving out himself. He struggled through the water, he really prefered the land, and he inwardly cursed himself for not speaking more clearly. Not that Smoke hadn't done a good job - a truly admirable job actually - but it was all he offered; was diplomacy. He was failing himself, Traveller, and most importantly, his Emperor for not using his words to neutralise this threat.

OOC:
00:10, Today: Sereth rolled 17 using 2d6+6 with rolls of 5,6.  Strength + Athletics.

That's I think the first ever roll I've totally crushed without using story points.
Am I the only one using raw strength? Hmm, probably.

As the group threads its way along the darkening passageway back toward the sea-cycles, Stanley has a nasty moment when a split opens up in the floor right at his feet, and Flynn skids on her bad leg.  Stanley manages to brace and stabilize them on the treacherous footing.

"Damn it!" Flynn swears, holding on to Stanley to steady herself.  She struggles up and they're able to get moving again.  "Obliged, Doctor," she says, giving him a weak smile.

They're startled, then, by a crackling noise from overhead, and Stanley looks up to see a portion of the curving wall and ceiling of the passageway flaking off and toppling toward them -- and it abruptly stops and shifts direction, shifting to crash into the floor as the shape of Sereth looms overhead to intercept it and divert its fall.

At last, the whole group reaches the wider chamber that adjoins the airlock, where -- if their luck has held out -- the sea-cycles should still be moored alongside.

OOC: Just flavor from the rolls.

Smoke Alarm skidded into the chamber, breaking away to dash that way and this and eyespy that all was shape-ship and sound, at least right now and here as they fire-escaped. 'Now we're outgoing to the pool-bikes. Is the SPOT here?'


OOC: Does the airlock have a window so we can check outside?

Colonel Rayburn looks at Smoke Alarm in some surprise.  "No, the SPOT's hooked up about a quarter of the way around the station, counter-clockwise."  He gives a doubtful glance back the way everyone has come.  "Not all that sure that that anyone could make it there before this place is finished flooding.  With the state that she's in, I'd figured the SPOT was expendable, at best."

"In theory," Flynn puts in, "you can cycle in to the SPOT in open ocean, if you need to.  In practice, we'd have to break the hard seal we made to fix the SPOT to the airlock; also, I don't think the specs were made in terms of close proximity with frisky sea monsters.'

OOC: Argh, that's why I'd suggested you work out what the ultimate plan was before I'd placed you at a destination.  But let's roll with this as is.  Getting people to the SPOT, if you want to, should be "interesting" but not impossible.

OOC: Unfortunately, we had a quiet patch at a key moment, and left it all up to Smoke Alarm. :) Post #208, I said Smoke would lead the way to the SPOT and the cycles.

Anyway, can Smoke lead the UNIT team back to the SPOT in time? Flynn could ride an aquacycle, and Smoke could take her place on the sub, so we move faster. Or Smoke could go alone, but her driving a sub would be interesting to say the least. I rolled a 19 if required.
10:38, Today: Smoke Alarm rolled 19 using 2d6+11 with rolls of 5,3.  awareness(4) + ingenuity(3) + Keen Senses(2) + Sense of Direction(2).

Otherwise, can the aquacycles carry two people?