First: Noise.

The slow wash of indistinct sound that resolved to distinct tones: staccato bursts of percussions, the shriek of tearing metal, the hollow woosh of fire-retardant and the low baseline of implacable torsion stress.

Then taste and smell: bitterness and acrimony mixed with ash.  Burnt electronics and charred steel.

Only then did sight come into it.  Blurry, colours-washed out.  Everything too bright or not bright enough at the same time.

They were in a long corridor.  Dark blue walls and steel conduits.  Corrugated steel flooring.  Rows of metal and glass pods lined up side by side like some sort of standing observatory.  And almost everything was covered in a fine grey-green powder.

The hallway was lit by red strips of light along the floors and a pulsing red light at the far end of the hallway, some thirty meters away.

A face loomed close as a layer of obfuscation is removed.  The stasis-pod door released.

The sound became immediately overwhelming.

Two men.  Black and red uniforms.  Hairless.

One bleeding from his ears, moving methodically down the row of stasis cannisters, flicking switches to start the quickload reboot process.

The other's blue uniform was blackened and torn.  One arm hung limply, useless at his side, while he discarded a spent fire-retardant cannister.  "--so?  we're done here." he said.

The other one, moving down the row of stasis-pod cannisters shook his head.  "twelve."  He said over his shoulder.  "Twelve of forty-five.  What a fucking waste."

"They're cargo." the first one called back.  "Expendable.  'sides. there isn't enough space for them in the pods.  We need to go...  Now, technician.  You want to live?  Move!"
This message was last updated by the player at 22:27, Sat 06 Mar 2021.

Even as the technician turned to leave you, blurry and disoriented on the floor of a metal corridor while everything around you rocked and swayed, heaved and groaned, another enormous crash echoed down the corridor.

A huge crash of metal and plateel sheeting crashed through the ceiling of the space they were in, separating the commander from the technician and the rest of you.

"Commander Amin!"  the technician yelled, startled.

Amin did not respond.

The technician leapt up and moved to the twisted steel that had crashed through the ceiling.

"Shit.  shit shit shit."  The technician muttered.  "Don't have time.  Forgive me for the steps I must take..."  Then he girded himself and turned back.

"If you are awake enough to understand.  You must get up.  Follow me if you want to live."

He wiped his one good arm across his forehead, wiping the sweat from his brow, and leaving a relatively clear spot in the soot and fire-retardant that had covered him.
This message was last updated by the player at 22:27, Sat 06 Mar 2021.

Technician:

• Life-Support Technician
• M:[X][X][_], P:[X][_][_]
• Consequences(+4): Broken Arm
  

Ptolemen Station
Scene Aspects:

• Zenda-Meier Outpost Orbiting a Gas Giant
• Destruction is Imminent

If something mentioned in the narrative, it becomes a candidate to become an Aspect--no need to roll.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:42, Sat 06 Mar 2021.

In reply to Control (msg # 3):

Viper quickly became aware of the situation.
1) A ship is falling apart.
2) Some people, like her, are waking up in pods.
3) Some guy, already injured, is telling them to follow her if they want to live.

Viper wanted to live. She clumsily walked like a zombie to follow the guy.
Then a thought hit her hazy mind : women.
1) There may be women in the canisters.
2) Desperate men in this situation would abandon the women without a second thought (she herself almost did that).

Viper forced herself to pull an 180 and tried to get all the women out of the canisters, which were looking so much like coffins now...

<sup><sub>*throb* We... Feel... Your... Pain... *throb*

*throb*  *throb*</sub></sup>

*throb*  *throb*

 *throb*  *throb*

The older man's first flicker of awareness came not from sound, or taste, or smell, or sight.

He felt the waves of stress, and fear, and pain, and death swirling around him, washing over him, focusing his awareness as if he had been physically slapped in the face.

By the time his stasis-pod door released, he was mentally alert, though thoroughly disoriented.  Physically, he was somewhat less prepared.  He looked up from the floor of the corridor, grimly took a breath, and pushed himself into a sitting position... just in time to see the ceiling collapse upon one of his rescuers.

His own physical discomfort faded, as well as his own mental discomfort.  Confusion faded.

He focused intently upon where he had just seen the man, stretching out his extraordinary senses, seeking...

Thoughts of who he was, or what, or where, or when, were absent.  Thoughts of extraordinary senses were absent as well.  What he did came as naturally as hearing, or tasting, or smelling, or seeing, or touching.  It was instinctive.

He was aware of the other rescuer speaking, and did not stop to question how he understood the words spoken.  But he could not leave without checking upon the others in need around him.  That also came as naturally as breathing.  It was who he was... whatever that was...

She staggered as she shot into life. Sitting up too quickly made her head spin. Staggering out of the container made her nearly trip. Gripping her swirling forehead and gritting her teeth, the next thing that happened was vomit. Acrid bile burned her throat as her chest heaved and whatever had been in her stomach violently found its way out. Her eyes bulged and her chest heaved drily for round after round. She leaned heavily against whatever she had been in feeling like the worst bender ever had been last night.

Squinting as her body finally returned to a semblance of working order, she stood tall. Or as tall as her 160 centimeters allowed and eyed the broken man trying to tell her what to do. That felt off. Why did he have no bloody hair?

"滚蛋! 肏你祖宗十八代, 屌絲!"
(Translation: Fuck off! Fuck your ancestors to the eighteenth generation, loser!)

Groaning audibly at the effort it took to express her opinion of the man, she staggered a bit then leaned against the whatever-it-was and looked around to see her situation.

A click and a hiss, and with a gentle experimental push from the inside the pod door opened; upon which the occupant, bereft of support and startled by a sudden lurch of their surroundings, slid bonelessly out of the pod to hit the floor in a puff of grey-green powder.

Get up, someone said nearby. Follow me if you want to live.

The occupant, a lanky dark-skinned figure in an ill-fitting drab coverall, grinned and then sneezed twice and broke into helpless laughter. “That sounds like,” they gasped out in between giggles as they reached up from their inelegant sprawl to grab the empty pod and haul themselves upright, “An offer I can’t refuse!”

Sneeze. They managed to get both feet underneath and in the right order again, and once back up to their full not-inconsiderable height looked around the area, still swaying slightly and holding onto the pod just in case. “We,” they corrected upon seeing other blurred shapes moving in the area. “We can’t refuse.”

One of the shapes retched and said something unintelligible, though from the tone it was very angry and probably highly obscene, a thought which brought on another fit of giggling. “Hey now,” the tall figure chided gently, punctuated by a sneeze as the room shook again and set dust clouds stirring, “You can’t expect everyone to be witty in an earthquake. It’s not his fault he sounds like a bad holo. And we’re all in this together. At least, I’m all together. Not missing any parts, me.” Another sneeze and giggle, and they pushed themselves off the pod to lurch to the next one, narrowly missing the emerging occupant, and then the one after that until they reached the original speaker.

“Are you all together? Because you look like hell . . . “ They trailed off and leaned a little bit closer to squint at the nametag on the technician’s chest. “Barrett. Where are we, how many of us are there, and where do we go,”-- giggle-- “If we want to live?”
This message was last edited by the player at 05:05, Sun 07 Mar 2021.

Spohr tumbled out of the pod like so much dead meat.

He felt like dead meat.  And the last he remembered... no.  maybe he'd been dreaming.  There were guns involved.  And fire. And a hologram.  Something about flexible nipples?

Zero-G drinking cannisters didn't leak...

Spohr groaned and rolled to his side just as a sizable portion of the ceiling collapses, shutting out the only exit he'd seen.

Something was wrong, though.  The ceiling collapse should have roused more emotion, more startlement.  But Spohr felt himself remaining coldly dispassionate, disconnected.

"Follow Me If you want to Live."  the little guy had said.   He had a broken arm and didn't look like he could fight his way out of a paper-bag.

"Uh..." Spohr groaned. "Where?"... but his mouth felt full of cotton.  His jaw wasn't working right.

His brain wasn't working right...
This message was last edited by the player at 04:56, Sun 07 Mar 2021.

"Ptolemen Station."   the technician said over his shoulder.   "The first stop out of hell.  That crap blocks our way to the lifepods.  Looks like we have to head that way."  He pointed down the other direction out of the corridor.

"A level down, we can get to one of the landing bays.  Tech teams were dismantling a puddle-jumper.  Might have lifepods of it's own..."


He lifted his wrist and tapped it once. "Give me a read on Commander Amin."  he said.

CSX:
But I'm not going to give that away until Chang decides whether to intuit whether Amin is still kicking.

You gave me a narrative.  Please confirm what you're doing.  Are you trying to intuit Amin's presence/life?  Are you choosing to "Take Zero"?  I need more details and explicit driection on what you're doing.  OOC is just fine.

@VIPER
Most of the stasis cannisters were damaged.  Several beyond repair, shattered glass, torn palsteel.  Some of the bodies inside were shredded and burnt.  Others seemed pristine in condition but simply showed no life-signs on the display beside the cannister.

Two of them, one man and one woman had expressions frozen on their dead faces of horror, a grimace of shock.  It looked like they'd been aware of their condition and were helpless in the face of the rising heat inside their cannister.  They'd died, cooked and unable to escape.



In message #2, this thread, The Techician noted "Twelve of forty-five.  What a fucking waste." in message 2, so this--to my mind--establishes that only twelve cannisters were viable.).  There are six PCs and one GMPC from the cannister.  So it stands to reason that there are five other NPCs waking up.  For our purposes, I'm going to treat them as a mob.  But they are individually unnamed, so you--all--have full authority to give them names and personalities if you want.

Technician Barrett didn't wait.

He wasn't looking for gratitude or even compliance.  He was following policy as laid down by Zenda-Meier for station evacuation.

They'd done evacuation drills before, but they'd never done one live.  And, as would be expected, things went sideways.  They always went sideways when it came to reality.

He'd done his duty--released the inmates.  Policy said nothing about ensuring that they got off the ship.  It was pretty clear that his policy-associated duty ended there.  Except that Barrett wasn't, actually, an asshole.  Commander Amin might've scoffed, but he let these people out.  Murderers and Villains they might all be, but he wasn't prepared to have their deaths on his conscience.

It was an irony, of course.  Many of them were scheduled for eventual execution.  But Barrett was no executioner.  If he'd stopped to think through the ramifications of unleashing a score of murderers into the galaxy, he might've reconsidered.  But desperation makes heroes and villains of us all.

"Thirty meters forward.  Through the sanitation core, down a level and 100 meters to the docking bay we need." Barrett said to noone in particular.
Thanks for the name, Bek.

She opened her mouth to spit yet more acid out and only bent double to heave again. The contracting and releasing of her whole body's muscles was really getting on her Nerves. The dry heave was enough to refocus her though and she glanced toward the direction indicated. "Dren. Fine. Let's be about it then."

She moved toward the exit and, presumably, safety steadying herself against various pods. She peeked in each as she passed and blanched before hurrying on even as her shoulders quaked again. She held it this time and made it through the door and along the corridor toward the lift. "Will the lifts be alright in this.. uh, situation?" She glanced at the motley lot that trailed after her with a distinct grimace on her long features. She found herself with a flavor in her mouth and, for the first time, wondered about more than the immediate situation.

Grunting angrily, she moved forward once more.

Just narrating myself along.

Five people to help to extract. Four men, one woman. The proportion of violence hadn't changed for millennia.
Viper helped the woman to extract herself from the pod. She was fat and ugly and heavy and Viper wondered what crime the prisoner hat committed - helping herself to too many plates?
She half-carried the half-conscious fat girl and followed where the others were going.


This message was last edited by the player at 07:27, Thu 11 Mar 2021.

^{_{:: Sovereign Lord, please guard and guide us now... ::}}

The thought came naturally, but the older man did not pause to ponder it.  He was dimly aware of others exiting their pods, dimly aware of vividly contrasting bursts of emotion, but his focus was upon the man who had disappeared beneath the collapse of the ceiling nearby.

One heartbeat.  Two...

An inkling.  A growing hunch...

He took an unsteady step toward the metal debris.  Another...

His footsteps became steadier, his face more certain.

He reached the debris, stepped toward one side, moved a metal panel, moved another behind it.

He ducked into the exposed hole, and disappeared.

One heartbeat.  Two...  Three...  Four...

He backed out slowly, moving something heavy.

A groan.  An unsteady head shake.

"Commander Amin!  We have to go now!  Can you stand?"

@BLL & MH
"Will the lifts be alright in this.. uh, situation?"

"Wouldn't trust them.  Power-relays through this part of the station were shredded.  Too many of you, and I'm not getting trapped in a tin-can if it shorts."

Commander Armin Ami located.  A small voice said.  The AI unit on Barrett's wrist had a pleasant female voice.  Section Four. Level five. Prisoner Storage.  Warning.  Commander Armin Amin appears to be in need of medical attention. Shall I alert station Medical?

Barrett laughed a mocking, bitter, tone.  "Yeah, you do that."

Message relayed.  Station Medical has advised that an estimated response time could not be generated due to system errors.  Shall I alert the system Administrator?



--
Just like in a modern world with elevators, I imagine that it's part of evacuation procedures to avoid the use of lifts.  They'd probably be programmed to stop at the nearest level, depending on threat-levels, and allow passengers to disembark before shutting down.  Of course, He's a technician... he might be able to do something about that.

This message was last edited by the player at 01:23, Thu 11 Mar 2021.

"Sanitation core?" the tall one asked with another giggle. "Sounds fun!" Then, slightly more seriously, "You know where you're going, Barrett, you're in front. Why don't you go wait by the right door so everyone knows which way to go?" The directive-- it wasn't really a request-- was punctuated by a gentle hand between the broken-armed man's shoulder blades, and a slight push in the right direction.

Two— no, three— women were already heading towards the corridor Barrett had indicated; a stocky dark-skinned man was looking around confusedly, and another, also bald, was digging through the debris blocking the other corridor. A curious impulse made the tall, slender figure run a hand across their own head; bare as a baby’s bottom. For some reason, that fact was both reassuring and very, very funny, and they giggled again.

"Not that way, Shiny," they said to the digger, tone gentle and amused at the same time. "Our friend Barrett said out's over there. Hey, Bruiser," the tall one continued, not waiting for acknowledgment as they pushed off their supporting pod and over to the dark man, "Help me check the rest of the pods, get everyone up and moving in the right direction. Start on that side, I'll get this one. Oh, this one's dead, moving on . . . dead, dead, very dead--" giggle-- "Watch out for the sick, don't want to slip, good morning!"

Not seeming to pause for breath as they narrated their lurching journey down the row of pods, they paused and chirped happily at finding a live one. "Did you sleep well? Tell me later, it's time to go now. Follow Barrett if you want to live!" With an unbalanced smile, they helped the person out, turned them towards the group gathering by the exit, and gave them a small pat on the back before moving on to the next one.

@The PODS
Close inspection of the remaining pods makes it pretty clear that Technician Barrett has--actually--released all the living survivors in this area.  Those that remain in the pods are flatlined.  Some very gruesomely so.

"Put me down!"  Commander Amin cried.  "I'm not some sack of shit to be carried around like some sack of grain."

But, apparently, he was.  Unsteady on his feet,he wobbled in place for a moment, eyes looking around unfocussed.  The blood that had been on his face earlier was now profuse and glistening in the low-red light of the emergency beacons.  "Where are you going? Life-boats aer...  Oh."  he turned, noticing the sheer pile of smoking and twisted metal from which Sheng-Xin had just pulled him out.  "Okay."

@CSX:
I am assuming that CSX has not yet applied his healing Stunt.

Not seeming to pause for breath as they narrated their lurching journey down the row of pods, they paused and chirped happily at finding a live one. "Did you sleep well? Tell me later, it's time to go now. Follow Barrett if you want to live!" With an unbalanced smile, they helped the person out, turned them towards the group gathering by the exit, and gave them a small pat on the back before moving on to the next one.


The woman Bekand Viper freed had hair.  Blonde hair tied back behind her ear, greying at the temple.  There were also extensive tattoos down one side of her face, extending all the way down her neck into her jumpsuit.

The woman stood there, slack-jawed and gazed at Bek.  She seemed to be tracking him, btu didn't, actually, make any move to follow Barrett.l  Nor, for that matter, did she make any move to interact with anyone.  She just stood there watching everyone.

Elsewhere in the corridor something twanged, and a low white fog started to seep in from the hole where Sheng-Xin had recovered Commander Amin.  It smelled of sour milk and spoiled fruit.

"Okay."  Barrette said.  "I've got a route to the Sanitation Core.  "  And he started moving down the corridor.

A sudden burst of noise roared from overhead, nearly deafening.

Lifeboat four away.  System Administrator Torvalds is no longer on the station. Error logged to Information Support.

"Lucy.  Calculate best evacuation route from Sanitation Core for sixteen human passengers on foot." Barrett said.

Calculating.  Warning: Coragel gas detected.  Proper Protective equipment is required." Barrett's AI offered cheerfully.  This is now a Level-1 PPE zone.

"Oh, for frak's sake!" Barrett swore.  You need to move!  Now! Take deliberate steps with no unnecessary movement.  Don't stir up the cloud above your heads and don't breath it in!  It's a bonding agent for the fire-suppression system.  And it's toxic on it's own."

The woman they'd released cocked her head to one side.

Most of the other survivors, having gained some semblance of cognizance, moved towards Barrett, and down the corridor...

Commander Amin growled and  hobbled after the technician, obviously favouring his right side.

---

Fate Pool: BLL 3/3, Bek 3/3, CSX 4/3, Mai 3/3, Max 3/3, Zef 2/2
This message was last edited by the player at 18:31, Thu 11 Mar 2021.

She rolled her eyes as shit went from bad shot right past worse and skidded into right fekking awful. Grunting at all the go-gooders and wanna-be heroes, she waited extremely impatiently. Growls of annoyance and scathing looks of accusation filled the room. Finally, finally, it seemed like the freak show was getting its move on. If she'd been able to reach the pods herself, she'd have made like Torvalds. As it was, she needed the tech to get through the ship maze if the gas didn't get her first.

"blast and curse this ship to all the thousand hells. Let's be about it then."

Taking the warnings to heart, she made to move through the fog as carefully as possible to avoid stirring the heavy looking gas up into her breathing air. She headed for this Sanitation Core.

The path to the Sanitation core was mostly unimpeded.  In fact, they didn't come across anyone else.  Everyone, it seemed, was on other levels.  The Prisoner pods were stored on lower-levels of the station, Barrett explained.  Some parts weren't even filled with atmosphere.  Apparently the cold of space made a great deep-freezer for a lot of the food that the station needed, too.

"Sweet Hesh, this stinks."  Spohr grimaced.

Barrett tried his access code first.  Amin swore and tried his access code.  Then Barrett pulled a knife from his boot and pried off an access-panel to activate the door release manually.

The wave of effluence, at least, was strictly scent--not tactile.  But the miasma from at least three different alien species made the scent of burning metal and plasteel almost rhapsodic.

Barrett stopped up short. His body slumped and he shook his head.

Warning.  Containment Breach in Reactor Two.   Seek shelter immediately.

"We're frakked."  he said.

It had been a wide, octagonal chamber, once.  Three catwalks surrounding the three giant spheres which processed the bulk of the station's liquid waste, separating out water and reclaimable nutrients from other wastes.


From the door, a wide metal catwalk led around the outside of the chamber, allowing access to various parts of the great behemoth of liquid waste processing.  At the far end, brilliant shafts of light streamed in from two levels above, where the hydroponics garden used to be.

The UV lights were still functional, at least.

And all that green stuff, the O2 scrubber plants and the honest-to-God vegetables were scattered all over the Sanitation polyhedron.

The fallen debris had taken out a good portion of the catwalk at this level and the two levels below.  Which mean that--somehow--the group had to find a way down one level and across a wide open space of approximately 10 meters (30 feet).  Most of them simply wouldn't be able to make the jump.  Not without help.

Warning.  Containment Breach in Reactor Two.  All personnel. Reactor Core ejection in thirty-seconds.  Seek shelter immediately.

---

More Debris Than You Can Shake a Stick At
Stuck Between Coragel and Alien Feces
Hey, At Least There's UV Lights!
Open to adding other Aspects if you think it's appropriate.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:20, Fri 12 Mar 2021.

She eyed the situation with narrowed, angry eyes. Her nose wrinkled at the smell but she was focused on something important enough she could set it aside, mostly. Still, the back of her hand rubbed across her nose a few times and she pinched it shut a bit here and there to blunt the offense. Finally, sighing heavily, she griped, "It'd be nice if we could have some control over the gravity." She looked to Barret with hopeful eyes. Navigating a room like this would be much easier without so much pesky gravity.

Still, that seemed unlikely, so she began to scan the various chunks of debris either for a path to where they needed to go or pieces workable enough to create a bridge.

So, in this system, do I just do something to create the situation described? Or try to see if it already exists?

"Gravity point is set." Commander Amin shook his head, the disdain in his voice obvious.  "Frakk with the Inertial dampeners, and you could send all of us into Moniris' gravity well."

Barrett shook his head too. "I don't have that level of clearance.   Lucy, Sanitation Core catwalk two is damaged.  Can you give me an alternate route?"

---

Questions on the table for:

Maissa
Do you want to spend a fate point to bring into existence vine-like plants from hydroponics?

Baylee
How do you want to approach the idea of building a bridge?
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:14, Sat 13 Mar 2021.

Viper listened to the angry-looking mixed-race spacer. Of course, she was angry because she was hungry. They all were; after the hibernation the body is on full throttle again, and the minds craves for real carbs, not having felt the nutrients injections.

The young pilot eyed the vegetables with greed. However, they were stained with alien feces, Coragel®, and bits of plastiglass®. "What the Hell, I could clean that!", she told herself, and pocketed something that looked like an onion.

"Only a spacer would think laterally and prefer 0-gravity", reflected Maissa over Bai Ling-li's question to the tech. However, the gravity field was set for the entire ship, it was all or none, and its controls weren't in this room. A bridge would take to much time to assemble.

But there were vines in the hydroponics. May, if she tied one vine at the end of the other, they'll form a rope that would allow the most acrobatic of them all to swing to the other side down?

Maissa waited for the reply of "Lucy" before starting to desperately pull up the vines from their support, with tooth and nails.

---

Creeper Vines: Good Rope? I'll spend a fate point on that
This message was last edited by the player at 11:18, Sun 14 Mar 2021.

She could see the other female moving toward the vegetation and saw what she was up to. A fine idea but it got them down, not over. They might swing on them, but that also seemed dubious. Something in her distrusted relying on Hydrocarbons for stability. She scanned the room quickly and noted More Debris Than You Can Shake a Stick At. Her mind scanned a few pieces and started putting things together of its own accord. Looking around at the slack-jawed nerf herders surrounding her, she made a sharp tsk-ing sound then moved over to a them and grabbed a couple at random, "Oi! Help me gather the pieces I need. I think I can jerry-rig a make-shift bridge out of this stuff." She looked over at the other female gathering the plants and smiled, somewhat genuinely, "Best to have two plans. Doubles the chance of success." The logic wasn't there, but no one here was going to sue her over it, yeah?

That said, she moved among the various debris looking for likely pieces as well as a way to secure them to one another to make some thing long enough and at least 10cm wide to walk over.

Baylee will grab the two who look easiest to boss about and use her Command skill to boss them. Admittedly, she doesn't know she has command skill, and is just wielding brute force of personality for this. If one of them is one with the Tech skill, great. Just couldn't think of an IC way for her to identify them within time constraints.

Then, I will invoke the aspect used above for the +2.

Bai Ling-Li rolled -2 using 4 Fudge dice with rolls of 0, -1, 0, -1.  Tech +3 (TN+4), Build a Bridge. Invoke for +2.

Blast, well, If I grabbed a NPC with the Tech skill for the help, that still succeeds...

Alternate route found.

Barrett glanced at his watch-like thing, and a small bluish hologrammatic display appeared.  Barrett swore.  "No. We don't have time for that."


Warning.  Containment Breach in Reactor Two.  Reactor Core ejection in ten-seconds.  All personnel.  Seek shelter immediately.

Baylee called out to several people and directed them to gather the material necessary to build some sort of ramp from where they were to where they needed to be.  At least the end-point was six meters lowers than their start-point.  It was always easier to go down in gravity environments than up.

Reactor Core ejection imminent.  Seek shelter immediately.

Barrett tried to help, but the useless arm lade him more of a hindrance than a help.   Commander Amin called him over and the two crew-members had a brief discussion...

Reactor Core ejection failed. 

Barrett's eyes widened and Amin went pale.

One of the mob, a thick-set man with one eye and a heavily pock-marked face was able to wrestle a 3-meter panel of catwalk flooring from the debris through sheer force.  Much of the plasteel that formed the walls was twisted and burnt, but there were fragments three or more feet across buried in the rubble.

Reactor Core overload in approximately four minutes.  Remaining personnel.  Evacuate immediately.

There were cries of fear and fatalistic pessimism.

Viper managed to gather an impressive amount of creeper vine draped over the much of the debris and catwalk.

When it was first introduced to station life, it was thought to be a nuisance because it grew fast and got everywhere.  But horticulturists soon discovered that it had a higher rattio of CO2 to O2 conversion than most other plants for it's per-area requirements.  And, it turned out, that when woven together, like hemp, it had am amazing strength and durability.  Many of the station crew had vine-made clothing that they wore in their off-duty times.

Commander Amin saw the coils of vine that Viper had gathered and he nodded, apparently impressed.   He took one of the coils and laid it at his feet, then created a sort of jagged hook out of a twisted piece of guardrail.   Tied together, it made a grappling hook of sorts.  And though he tried, he simply couldn't manage to make it land on the far side.

---

My thought process here is that establishing a line across to the other side will allow the placement of the bridge-platforms with a little better than random specificity.

Fate Pool: BLL 2/3, Bek 3/3, CSX 4/3, Mai 2/3, Max 3/3, Zef 2/2

This message was last edited by the player at 23:19, Sat 13 Mar 2021.

Wordlessly, HB27-- the label on the breast of their coveralls, which considering they couldn't remember their actual name was as good as anything else for now-- took the improvised grapple out of the commander's hands and gave it a few experimental whirls before easily launching it across the gap. It took three tries before it hooked onto something and didn't pull free at the first hard tug, though HB was pretty certain that it wouldn't anyone's weight but their own or the tiny angry woman's, maybe or or two of the others. Definitely not the big woman, Bruiser, or the highly-useful Barrett.

They were diplomatic enough not to say it out loud, however. Instead, "Use the vines to tie your plates and beams and things together, make a kind of a ladder," they said, idly plucking a few of the thinner beflowered vines and twining them into a circlet which ended up on top of their head. "Don't make it too heavy. I'll take one end down and find a place to anchor it."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:19, Sat 13 Mar 2021.

As the others began laboring to construct a way of escape, the older man moved to join the two conversing authorities.

"I can heal your arm, but it will take a few moments.  Shall I  proceed?"

In the midst of such life-threatening chaos, he spoke with a gentle, calm, rational, and reassuring certainty...

Barrett stood a moment, glanced around before he understodo that Sheng-Xin was talking to him.  "Bone's broken."  he said simply.  "gonna need to splint it.  Ain't much you can do without a first aid kit.  But... thanks."

The older man smiled kindly.

"Thankfully, I am a first-aid kit.  Stand still for a few moments, and you will climb out of here alive with two good arms, God willing..."

He gently placed his hands upon the afflicted arm, one above and one below the break, and closed his eyes.

"Sovereign One, please heal this man now..."

One heartbeat...  Two...

The pain in the arm receded as the broken bone and damaged tissue started rearranging into a restored configuration.

One heartbeat...  Two...  Three...  Four...  Five...  Six...  Seven...  Eight...

The older man shuddered slightly, and opened his eyes.  His hands trembled slightly as he released the formerly broken arm, and he winced as he moved his own arm.  Beyond the pain etched upon his pale and perspiring face, however,  was a look of peace.

"How do you feel now?"

Barrett seemed stunned.   He moved his arm, lifted his other hand to his shoulder and rotated it.  He winced, but was able to move his arm and clench and unclench his hand.  He gave Sheng-Xin a long, appraising look, his eyes searching for something.

Commander Amin whispered "Nikrah." in a low voice, and took a step back.  The blood on his face was etched with sweat and--possibly-tears.

Life-Boat Two Away.  Life-boat One away.  Reactor Core overload in approximately two minute.

Barrett moved to a debris pile, and waved some of the others over.  "Someone's going to have to go down first.    There's a shut-off valve about twenty meters hack.  It needs to be shut down.  Turn it counter-clockwise.  It won't prevent the reactor back-washing through the contributor, but anything we can do to slow it down before it burns through the station gives us more time...

He pointed downward, to the series of pipes leading from the central sphere.    " I can initiate an emergency bypass, which will throw down a couple more blockades."

AMin grunted.  "The Spacer.  She should do it.  She's got the best chance."  But Baylee also heard him mutter "and if not, no big loss..."

--
OOC: Barrett's 4: Broken Shoulder Consequence is replaced with 2: Bruised Shoulder which is now in recovery.  Sheng-XIn takes on a Moderate(+4) Mental Consequence.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:06, Sun 14 Mar 2021.

The white-hot stab of pain from the older man's own shoulder slowly subsided, and he found himself in much the same posture as Barrett had been in moments ago as he attempted to ease the level of discomfort.

Still, the look of peace upon the older man's face endured, and he returned Barrett's long appraising look with a look that was... empathetic, even empathic.  We Feel Your Pain...

Even through the haze of fatigue and pain, the single word whispered by the Commander echoed in his ears, and the older man felt a wave of goosebumps.  That word sounded so... significant, and so... familiar.  Where had he heard it before?  He mentally grasped at the tendril of thought, but it eluded him.  And so was born the first glimmer of awareness that there were things... important things... that he could not currently remember.

But there was no time to pursue such thoughts now.

"Commander, time and strength are limited now.  Have you strength to make it off the station?  If so, I can heal you once we are safely away..."

She grunted as things seemed to be coming together. Seeing the vine attached, she took a half-step to be the first across. She was slim and quite athletic by her build, so she figured it would be easier for her. She was just about to psych herself up for the move when the man had to go and make his comment. Rolling her eyes, something in her compelled her to twist on her heels and march right up under his nose. There, she stared up into his eyes steadily for a long, slow, inner count of ten. "And... right now? Who'd miss you?" She licked her lip and then grunted and struck the man directly in his wound before turning on her heel and moving to the vine. She tested its set once, twice then moved to rappel down.

Bai Ling-Li rolled 0 using 4 Fudge dice.  Athletic +3 (TN ??) Rappel down a level. So, result is a 3.

The feeling of floating in air was oddly comforting to her and she felt herself cooling down. Still, something acrid burned in her chest. The man's comments played through her mind the moment her feet touched the path again and she grit her teeth.

Removing the vine/rope, she called up, "Get the bridge tied on and I will guide it from here then secure it. Make sure to secure the top end as well. It's no use it is falls into oblivion..." She looked down at what was below this level of walkway. A wicked thought boiled in her head. Chuckling, she moved to the valve Barret had indicated and adjusted it while they did their part.

Maissa saw the thin irascible spacer rappel down, tell the people she'd guide down the hastily built footbridge... and then leave in the corridor.

Someone else had to get down to guide that footbridge, but above all Viper couldn't resist an acrobatic.

She made a harness with the vines, put it around her legs, quickly tied some knots and tug the top part. Never mind. She'd wing it if the harness broke. What's Life Without a Little Excitement?

"Hold firmly", she told the person holding the other part of the grappling hook. And there she went, hooking the harness to the vine, slide down, being stopped by the branches, gripping the improvised rope ladder with hands and feet, unhooking, hooking 50 cm further, sliding, balancing .

"Female monkey coming down the tree" she shouted "Woohooo!" - "No, hold on - Viper tumbling down the vines!"

Maissa Haukea rolled Athletics(+4/+2) invoking Creeper Vines: Good Rope
This message was last edited by the player at 22:58, Sun 14 Mar 2021.

HB winced in sympathy as the tiny angry woman-- an orija, that's what she reminded them of-- socked the stationer right in the center of the blood-soaked spot on his uniform. But then she and another woman went down the vine-rope, and HB shrugged and turned away to glance around the room while they waited for the pair to secure the makeshift bridge and the rest of the group to start moving across it.

Their coverall-- cheap, drab, and pocketless, not something they would have chosen for themselves-- somehow also managed to be ridiculously overlarge and too small at the same time. Obviously sized for someone substantially heavier and shorter, the sleeves and legs ended substantially above their wrists and ankles, and the whole thing hung on their thin frame like a sack and flapped as they moved. It was highly annoying, and so HB tugged one of the trailing vines free and wrapped it several times around their waist to serve as a belt and keep the extra fabric contained. "Hello," they murmured quietly as they tucked the ends of the vine in. "What's this?"

Not far on the other side of the door they'd come in through, a large pile of wreckage blocked the way further around the catwalk, vegetation and railings and pieces of other things that had clearly come from the levels above. Pulling the vine free had uncovered a narrow gap where a panel had landed leaning up against the wall-- though presumably, if anything useful had been that way one of the stationers would have said something, probably along the lines of "Clear this debris!" Still . . .

Curious, HB crouched and peered underneath. There was a small space behind it, the catwalk above having managed to retain some attachment to the wall, and although HB had to wriggle through the gap, snagging and losing one of their sleeves on the way, once past the panel they could stand up to almost their full height on the other side. The wall itself held a diagnostic panel, all its lights and readouts flashing red in alarm, opposite that a mass of broken tanks and trellis that had supported some fruiting plants, and ahead more catwalk and assorted pieces of the structure. The fruits themselves were there too, many of them smashed and leaking sticky red juice all over the floor.

No, not juice, at least not entirely-- there was a body under the vegetation, a hand wearing a narrow golden-colored ring sticking out from the tangle of plants. Dropping to a crouch, HB grabbed the hand and felt for a pulse, then slid the ring off and onto their own finger. Moving the smaller pieces of debris aside revealed it to be a woman with a broken neck and a lovely pair of earrings, with a second woman with a long gash down her lower abdomen and groin nearby, the source of the blood.

Working quickly, HB searched both bodies and stripped them of anything interesting, humming as they did so. Still feeling light-headed from the stasis pod, just the thought of eating anything at that moment made them feel like retching, but they collected whatever edibles were salvageable as well. "You know," HB said to the dead women, secreting the finds about their person, "Pockets and holsters and lanyards and things are all very well, but it would have been awfully nice if you'd had a bag or something. Just a thought, hmm? Maybe next time."

"Oi Paska!"  Batrrette swore, as he wathed bek rather efficiently strip the corpses of some of their belongings...  "We don't have time for--what are you doing??"

His face was flushed his eyes frantic.

But there were some valuable there... a couple of pieces of discrete jewelry and other, possibly-useful items.

We're not going to define what all you got at the moment, but it will come up later.  I'm also saying that since we're not defining it right now, I'll give you Corpe-Looted Gains as a catch-all Aspect we can use down the road.  (More in the OOC thread)

"Commander, time and strength are limited now.  Have you strength to make it off the station?  If so, I can heal you once we are safely away..."

Commander Amin looked Sheng-Xin up and down, awe and fear playing across his face.   "I'll bloody well make it out of here." He said curtly as, one by one, the others swung across and down to the lower-deck, neatly avoiding the shattered glass, the debris and the tangled mass of creeper vines that snaked everywhere.

Amin seemed conflicted, but woodenly, mechanically, he pushed Barrett and Spohr out of the way and began strapping the others into the makeshift harness.

The vines, though, that had been stripped and braided were wearing, though, and by the time Zefla descended, friction burns and fiber-strain had caused one of the strands to go too much, like wicker did with sufficient pounding.  No splinters, just... mush.

Spohr and Amin strapped Zefla in, steadied the woman, tied an extra loop around her and all but pushed her off the edge.  She landed heavily with a roll and caught the lapel of her suit in one of the tangles of thorny vines.   It ripped the jumpsuit--nothing terribly threatening, but inconvenient.

@ZEFLA:
and, you call if and how much it might be indecent. I'm not making any narrative assumptions here.  It's your call.  I'm gonna just push forward and say that Zefla takes two stress for this.   Mostly because I'm just trying to get us going again...

Lincoln was going to try to strap in, but one of her vines had started to turn to mush in his hands.   Commander Amin pushed the beefy black man out of the way and took the swing-line in his hands, strapping Cheng-Xin in against any complaint.

"Technician Barrett." Amin called, his voice harsh.   "Your arm.  Can you get to the displacement crane?"

Barrett Froze.  HE looked up through the shattered glass of the hydroponics lab, to the ceiling so many levels above.   A single boom arm had been extended out over the area, used to spread water across the hydroponic gardens but also to move large platforms of soil back and forth to allow the hydroponics lab to be reconfigured as needed.

Barrett glanced over to the side, at the ladder and access tubes that extended up through the ceiling.  Barrett and Amin exchanged along look full of subtext.

"Probably." Barrett said. "But in time?"

Amin cut him off.   "It's the nearest module with command-level access.  Not just the hydro systems, but airlock control.  We're not going to be the only people looking at the Orishi.  You don't need to get into the crane.  Just close enough to pair your agent."

Amin reached up and removed the gold command-bars from his uniform.   He handed it to Barrett.   "Gamma Protocol Override One-Six-One-Delta-Amin."

Barette looked stunned for a moment, then Aminb shook him.  "Move, technician!  Or we might not even make the flight deck."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:23, Sat 27 Mar 2021.

There appeared to be a substantial change in Amin's demeanor,.  His landing on the lower-deck was ugly, but he didn't complain.  Only bit back the grunt of discomfort.

The vine snapped on Spohr's descent.  The big black man fell nearly the entire thirty feet and landed hard on the tangle-vines.

Spohr takes Moderate Consequence Ripped Up By Thorns

Commander AMin helped the big man up and then led them down the remaining corridor out of the stinking sanitation cluster.

Outside the flight deck, he wanted for a moment, then punched a panel beside one of the doors.  a small screen lit up, showing the interior of the flight deck.

There was a ship there--a fair size, perhaps 2500 square feet.  It seemed solid and battle-worn.   It's hull was a dark matte grey with evident scorch-marks where it had taken fire.   The forward sensor luster had been removed but secondary arrays seemed to be intact.

"The Orishi." Amin said.  "Smuggler.  Her crew mutinied when their captain tried to sell Caldean Mullosks to Squillips.  Nobody needs murdering octopods.  She's three days into tear-down, searching for hidden cargo. and the problem..." Amin growled.

As he spoke, brief flashes of light illuminated the video-feed. But the light wasn't standard electrician work.  It was very obviously pulse-bursts from a sidearm.

Amin growled some more.  "Four man team.  This is their territory.   I don't know who the other guys are.  I'm assuming survivors who didn't make it to the life-pods.  There simply aren't enough lifepods for the station.  I knew...  I knew the tech team would give us trouble.  But I wasn't expecting a standoff."

Amin closed his eyes, nearly collapsed against the bulkhead and then, without opening his eyes.  "DO any of you have problems with guns?"

Of course, you don't know good you are with them yet.   So, this is just narrative flavor.

The older man open his mouth to speak as he was strapped in, but his throat constricted as his shoulder was manipulated.  A white-hot stab of pain left him only half-aware as he was brought down.

He collected himself enough to move with the others, and was mostly together again by the time they observed the ship.

"A fight takes time we don't have.  Are there any win-win options we can offer them?"

"What?" Bek asked, pausing mid-harvest to blink innocently up at Barrett. "It's not like they're using them anymore." They reached up to finger their own ears, finding several holes in both the lobes and along the upper edges, and slowly began to transfer the two dead women's jewelry to their own body.

"Go on, Technician," the lanky dark-skinned ex-prisoner said mildly, voice soft and pleasant but eyes locked on Barrett's in challenge. They put the last earring in and gave their head a little shake to set them jingling, then smiled brightly. "Don't worry about little ol' me, I'll catch up. Ooh, are these strawberries? I like strawberries, don't you?"

Humming happily, Bek turned away and knotted the ends of their torn-off sleeves to produce a pair of makeshift pouches, and stuffed them full of strawberries and other edibles while the larger and less-squishy of their finds went into the bloused jumpsuit top. By the time they were done stripping the bodies everyone except Barrett had gone down, and Bek wiped their sticky hands clean on the dead women’s suits, rose, and ambled over to stand near the man where he was gazing up through the wrecked ceiling.

“You waited for me? How sweet,” they said, batting their eyes at the technician. Then, more solemnly, as they gestured with one long hand towards the crane, ”Can you make it, by yourself?” Bek had overheard what the Commander had said, and although they didn’t know exactly what was going on it had seemed important. Important enough to risk the man’s life, at any rate, and considering that Barrett had already risked his life to pop their pods, Bek felt somewhat uneasy with the idea of simply leaving him behind.

"Yes.", she snapped. "My problem is : I haven't any."

Viper felt that, if a brilliant bite of sarcasm was her last act before dying, her life would not have been vain.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:24, Sat 27 Mar 2021.

Amin offered a tright smile that touched only the corners of his mouth.   "Flight decks are primary boarding points.  Armory's nearby."

He punched some other codes into the console and the camera started panning, showing what appeared to be a standoff between two groups of people.  One--the tech team, was outfitted in yellows and oranges, highly-visible jumpsuits.   They were pretty firmly ensconced behind a series of metal and plasteel crates piled up bnear the rear of the ship.  They seemed to be stalling--and on one of the pans, it became clear why.  One of the group--a young lady with a shaved head was separated from the group, on the far left-side of the flight deck.

The group that was firing upon them appeared to be a mix of personnel.  Largely out-of-uniform, but heavily armed with personal weapons.  Pulse-rifles and smaller-caliber slug-throwers.  Without great detail, it looked like they might've been a detail from the station's navy or marine corp or whatever the grunt boarding-party designation was here.   They seemed to have maybe six of them, but one was missing an arm and had tied off the stump with a tourniquet, and another had a large red stain across his back...

Maissa's heart was with the techs group. Without techs, you don't fly anything. But Viper and her rag-tag "associates" may have to fight both groups to carve their space on this last ship. So both groups would be the bad guys, and themselves would be the bad guys for both groups.

She pointed to the shaved-head girl on the monitor : " 'know her? 'they protect her? Reason?"

---

Viper tries to estimate how many people can reasonably be shipped and survive on "The Orishi.", using her +5 Pilot skill

Bayleee finally caught up to the group after dealing with the pressure valve. She glared at the commander as she did but regarded the viewer. Frowning at the ship, she shook her head, "Tech crew? No pilot? Have we anyone that can fly that whale? Easy path for peace with the techs. Also, should we aid in saving the girl, more reason to work together. How long a peace... can be decided later, yeah?"

She squints at the screen trying to find a path for them to sneak up on the security force. Something in her misliked them badly. Glancing at the stranded female, she felt some sympathy. Turning her attention to the security team again, she felt her instincts guiding her sight around the scene and assessing how best to attack. Getting those weapons would be nice as well.

Amin shook his head.  "Visi-jumper, stubble.  Tech-team.  I do not know more than that."

Amin moved across and down the hall one door.  He punched in a code and the door slid open, retracting into the wall smoothly and silently.  The room was dark.  Lights didn't kick on, even when Amin waved his hand over the door-sensor.

"Frak. Power's out." Amin said perfunctorily.  "It's going to limit what we have access to. The attack must have taken out one of the power relays." 

Amin went further into the darkness, then abruptly, a right beam of light illuminated the greys and blues of the small room.  A flashlight.

The room itself was perhaps only eight feet across and four or five feet deep.  Racks of PPRs (Particle-Projection Rifles) were lined up behind reinforced plasteel shielding.  Underneath the case was another series of racks with PPPs.  But the casing had been left open.   On the rack of twelve, half of them had been removed. (So, six PPPs remain).  There was a dark blackish smear of something along one side of the rack, and drips that pooled on the floor benath it.

Amin flashed the light around the room.   Most of the room had been ransacked.    There were some light armor pieces and some other support-tools that looked accessible.

OOC: While I've put the heavy-weapons off the table, I'm willing to discuss other special tactics weapons here... if you want to roll for it or spend a fate-point for it... Things like "flash-bang grenades" etc. are certainly doable. please discuss in the metagame thread if you wanna go there

"So, this is what I propose." Amin said as he pulled a pistol out of the rack.  He made a sour face and wiped the pistol against his leg, leaving a small muddy smear across his pants.  "I need to get into the control room.  One of you will need to come with me."

"Seriously?" the big black man said. "You just going to ignore everyone's talk?"

He nodded to Ling-Li. "Girl had a good point.  You want us to work with you, you got to work with us, too.  I..." he glanced over at Ling-Li.  "I think I can fly it."

Of course he can.  But he's only an Average(+1) Pilot.   Once Viper gets in the hot-seat, so much will come flooding back to her...

"We don't have time." Amin shot back, slapping the battery into the grip of the PPP.  "These are highly-trained marines.  Whatever they were doing, whatever they were after, it doesn't matter now. "

Others moved into the armory, some of the five-man-mob (5MM?) looked to arm-up too.

"pep" - seemed a reasonable short-name for a PPP.

Spohr cocked his head to one side, then his face relaxed as if he'd had a dawning realization.   He glanced at Sheng-Xin and back at Ling-Li, but kept his mouth shut.  Instead, he just nodded, mutely.

The older man intently regarded the scene before him, looking from one group to the other, and silently prayed for wisdom.

One heartbeat.  Two...

He watched one of the pulse rifles rise, as if in slow motion, and... then... dis... charge...

Three heartbeats...  Four...

Suddenly he felt dizzy, and saw a glimpse of everyone aboard the evacuation ship, with the military group standing around the rest of the evacuees, raising their pulse rifles to slay them, as if in slow motion, and... then... dis... charge...

Five heartbeats...  Six...

He felt dizzy again, and saw a glimpse of the evacuation ship ambushing another ship, assaulting the women, raising their pulse rifles to slay the men, as if in slow motion, and... then... dis... charge...

Seven heartbeats...  Eight...

And... he was back aboard the station.

He silently contemplated these impressions for another several heartbeats, inwardly certain of the necessity of leaving behind the military men.

Then he absently brushed his fingertip against his cheek, and looked uncomprehendingly at the teardrop glittering on his fingers...

Upon seeing the rack of weapons, Baylee visibly got excited and licked her lips. Without much fanfare, she muscled her way to it and grabbed a pep. She quickly slapped in a battery pack and sighed at the sound of the weapon charging. She grinned at Spohr, "Win-win? We might negotiate, true. But, I doubt they will want to. They perceive their situation as one of power and control. As you said, THEY are trained marines. THEY think they can win this fight. The only reason they have to capitulate... is what? Niceness? People aren't nice. They're petty" Baylee tapped her ow chest and paused for a moment, She then glared at Amin, "Vindictive." She strode back toward the cargo bay door, "Bigoted assholes." She looked to the strange crying man. "Maybe not all. Some are pussies. I'll go to the control room."

That said, Baylee moved toward that very door.

Viper entered the armory and sneaked her way through the people to a pep and battery. Do as if you know what you're doing, and they let you do it, she reflected.

She did not pay much attention to the argument; she knew she wanted to save the isolated tech girl. However, when she heard the big black man state he could fly, her competitive spirit kicked in, and she started to brag reflexively
"You think you can fly it?", she shouted over the discussion, her eyes still focused on the PPP checks.
"Lemmetellya - I know I can fly it, one hand tied to my back, just hold my beer!"

She only realized at the end of the sentence what she just uttered, wondered why it had came out of her mouth. Well. Maybe she would know. No time to ponder.

She went out of the armory, armed, then went straight to the glass in the center of the airlock, and stood on her tip-toe to see the floor on the Flight deck on the other side. Not much seemed to have changed. Stupid people would gun fight until the ship blows up in their face.

She glanced on her left, feeling exposed like a cow in a corridor, but then the shorter-than-herself determined-looking Ling-li would attract the Marines' attention - and shots.

Viper began to open the airlock door, but did not expose her to the shots from the tech facing it across the bay. She laid the pep on the floor and waved what she hoped would be interpreted as hand signs of friendship through the opening.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:35, Sun 11 Apr 2021.

For a moment, tyhe big black man glowered at Maissa.  But, then a he stopped, seemed to consider something, and all trace of tension just flowed off of him, like water sluicing off an oiled jacket.   "Then the goal's to get you to the bridge or pilot chair, or whatever the hell they've got on that thing."  He said .

"Okay. "Commander." he said.  "what does getting into the control room get us?"

"Someone's got to set the timer to open the deck's outer doors."  Amin said without emotion.  "We don't open the outer doors, nobody's leaving.  Not us, not them."

Since she was going to the control room, she pursed her lips and then looked to Amin, "You can't do that? The feckin use are you, anyway? Dren. I can operate a basic system if you tell me the commands. If not, I can roll dice/" Chuckling, Baylee headed for the control room once more.

The bald girl had sensed the airlock opening on her left and instinctively pointed her gun to the opening. She was probably puzzled by the hand-wave, but the ex-convicts weren't looking like Marines.

Viper showed her head and forced a smile. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement, though. Jumping and tumbling under fire? What's Life Without a Little Excitement! She stepped back to gain momentum... signaled to beck to start the covering fire... and ran!

Thanks to her training, stress, and despite her being freshly un-freezed, she avoided being shot (Athletics(+2/+1))

Then she thought to yell "Friend! don't shoot!"

Baylee, Rayfe & Amin, Unnamed-NPC

Commander Amin rolled his eyes.   "Of course I can do that." he sneered.  "But I can't do that without actually accessing the control console.  That ship doesn't have station transponder codes.   Seriously.  If you're not going to be useful, at least be quiet."

He glanced at the assembled mob.  "You and you."  he pointed to two in the mob--one of which was Rayfe, "grab a pep and come with us.  If there's anybody in the Control room, they might fire before asking questions.  But command-bars should stop them.  Once we're inside, we'll need to neutralize anybody who's in there.  If we can do it unseen, all the better.  If not..."  he shrugged.  "I suppose if we have their attention, then they'll have issues on three sides."

"The rest of you.  Either back up the others or stay out here where it's safe and don't--hey! Where are you--"  but Viper was already gone.

Amin muttered  "Ah Hesh.  She's going to get herself killed.  Unless we move, now!"

Amin led them back across the hall to the hatch to the control room.  He waved his wrist over a digital pad, but nothing happened.

He did it again.  Again, nothing happened.

Muttering, Amin pressed the screen and the digital pad lit up.  He drew a patterned sequence on the digital screen and the screen flickered red and blue, before going dark.  But the locks did disengage with an audible thunk.

Amin took a breath, held up three fingers, then two, then one... and he mashed his hand against the digital screen, which lit up blue.   And he pushed the door inward...
This message was last edited by the player at 02:36, Wed 14 Apr 2021.

Baylee, Rayfe & Amin, Unnamed-NPC

Amin peered around the corner and then grunted, a surprised sound.

The room itself was ten meters long and five wide, with console seating for six.  It had once been an orderly control-room, with subtle lighting and dark pale blue hues nd subdued recessed track-lighting.   But whatever had happened, the entire place was now a mess.   One of the three great reinforced windows had an enormous crack in it, and a hole the size of two fists put together, right in the middle, with black and brown melted slag all around it.


There was only one body in the Control room, and it was lying on the floor, a small pool of blood around it's head, neck and shoulders.  It was probably male, but most of it's head was missing, lost in the chunky mess of meat that surrounded it on the floor.   A giant smear of red and black painted the wall behind the body, suggesting that whatever had burnt through the window had also hit the on-duty control-room operator.

At the far end of the room the ceiling had collapsed.  Giant metal struts and live, glowing, optical conduits lay limp against the walls and consoles.

Side note: they're hardline data conduits, not electrical, so they're not carrying a charge

Aspects:
Corpse of a Serviceman, Otherwise Unoccupied Room, A Hole in the Glass, Flickering Lighting, The Marines Outside the Door... They Don't See Us Yet!
</Orange>

Baylee, Rayfe & Amin, Unnamed-NPC

"Kess Ommak" Amin swore.

"You. Karnell." Amin hit Rayfe in the shoulder.  "See if you can find a working console.  We need to access Hull-Door control and atmosphereics to vent before the hull door opens."

He glanced at Baylee and smirked.  "Otherwise, the ship gets blown out into space before we get on it.  Can you handle that, princess?"

--
Okay,  This is a straight Systems roll at +1.  Assume that Amin gives you his access codes.

• Success: you get in
• Tie: you get in, but are unable to access the system (more work needed)
• Failure: alarms go off, danger-clock incremented.

This message was last edited by the player at 06:26, Fri 16 Apr 2021.

Haruhana, Sheng-Xin, Viper Lincoln & one Unnamed-NPC


Spohr stepped out into the flight deck and immediately went into a tight crouch.  firing off three shots in short, steady sequence, as if he'd was well-practised at it.

Lincoln Spohr rolled 1 using 4 Fudge dice.  Shoot(+2) to create COVERING FIRE.  Not a high-difficulty action, so target:+0.  SUCCESS.
Covering Fire now introduced.


Viper dove into the room despite the incoming fire that kept the tech-girl pinned down behind the crates in the corner.   She dove between particle-projection blasts, like she was a gymnast, or as if she knew precisely where the shots were going to go.

Viper managed to skirt around the huge tools console at the side of the hatch, but the cramped space didn't offer much in the way of cover.   If the rest of the tech crew and Bek & Spohr didn't keep the marines in their corner, this was likely going to end real quickly and real badly.

The bald girl in the orange visi-jumpsuit turned the small pep on Viper, her eyes wide.   She had a mechanical device in her left ear and something obfuscating her left eye.

Up-close and personal, she offered "Friend! don't shoot!"

The girl took a momento get over her shock, but she lowered the pep and scrunched even further into the corner to try to make mroe room for Vuiper behind the tool-enclosure.

"You got a frekkin' death-wish?" the girl asked her voice high and shrill, but the look of relief was clearly evident in her expression.   "'Cause this place hasn't had it's quote filled yet..."

Another pep shot lances out at Viper...

Across the room, someone cried out, and the tech girl stiffened.  her eyes flickered beyond Viper to the opened on-ramp to the Orishi, where the other tech-crew were pinned down.

Viper,
Marine-2 shot 4dF(+0) + Shoot(+3) for Target:+3.
Please roll to defend.

CSX:
So, we've worked out the basics of the psychic scream... wanna give it a go?
Roll Empathy.  Pick either one marine (the injured marine is marine-3, the others are full health) or the zone...  it will be opposed by the Mob's average willpower (+2).

Other background stuff:

• Maissa Haukea rolled 4dF(+0) + Atheltics(+2) vs TN:1.
• Control(Marine-1) rolled -1 + Shoot(+2) vs Viper
• Control(Marine-2) rolled +0 + Shoot(+3) vs Viper
• Control(Marines) Shot(+3) Tech-Crew vs Defend(+1)
• --> SUCCESS Tech-Crew takes +2 stress
• Control(Tech-Crew) Shot(+2) Marines vs Defend(+2)
• --> TIED (New boost: Marines "Pinned" (goes away in one exchange)

This message was last edited by the player at 06:21, Wed 14 Apr 2021.

Karnell frowned at being thumped on the arm. He wasn't that keen on personal contact at the best of times, which this was most definitely not. So far he had been content to follow along quietly, assessing all the others, and keeping himself out of harms way. Nobody extended their lives by volunteering for dangerous work, after all. But this time, he could hardly avoid it.

He took up the gun, and checked it, competently. At least he looked like he knew how to fire it. Compared to some of the other convicts, he had a rather soft look to him. Not made of muscles, his hands free of the callouses of any kind of manual labour. Whatever he was being thrown into the slammer for, his life had not been one of considerable hardship.

Inside the control room, he took stock quickly. He dismissed some of the contents rather casually. The sight of the poor bastard who had no head did not especially bother him - or, at least, he did not display much emotion at the gruesome sight. He simply stepped over the body, and started examining the consoles.

As he worked, he spoke - his voice an educated, urbane sound, though it had something of a sardonic drawl to it. "I don't mean to tell you your job, young lady, but I'd say that hole was an excellent opportunity to shoot someone in the back. If I can get this thing working again, we won't have very long to get across that hangar, and anything you can do to reduce the waiting time... well, I would be very grateful. I've always believed in leaving a party before one out stays one's welcome... GOT you!"

What, precisely, had he got?

That was revealed a moment later when he bent down, and yanked open a panel beneath the console he was working on, and tripped a circuit breaker just on the inside. It was a bit fluttery - much like everything else needing power on the critically wounded station - but it juddered into life. His smile was rather vulpine, and his eyes bright. He flexed his hands, rather like claws, with a small crunch of knuckle joints, and got down to work. He was not entirely sure what he was doing when he stopped to think, but somehow, the information flowing across the small screen in front of him made sense, if he just worked on what felt like instinct. It took very little time for him to make sense of the system, and with the access codes, he had no issues bypassing the various security lockouts. He finished typing with a little flourish.

"I will need to pre-set the timer, so we have enough time to get onto the ship. How long would you like? Do you suppose we could ask the very angry people out there to politely put down their weapons, as they are awfully inconvenient? No? I didn't think so, either. I hope you have a decent plan then. That's not my department."

His mind, however, had other thoughts. Karnell. That's what he called me. It seems to fit. And if he knows my name, he knows a lot of other things, as well. Once we're on that ship, he won't be able to run away. Maybe then he can be persuaded to share what he knows...
This message was lightly edited by the player at 06:06, Wed 14 Apr 2021.

Maissa shrank and crouched like a cat behind the tool boxes to expose less surface of her small body to the incoming shots.

I guess I get to choose what I use to defend. Athletics seems irrelevant to me since she's not really moving or dodging fire; Viper defends with Stealth (or Shoot, both at +3)
Maissa Haukea rolled 0 Defend +3 -->TIE. Maissa is Pinned

The burst surprised her however, and she let out a shriek. The boxes shook under the impact, blowing up splinters. Under such violence and threat, Maissa closed her eyes, put her head in her hands and stuck to the cratered wall, panting.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:40, Wed 14 Apr 2021.

Baylee moved into the control room with a burst of speed only to rock forward and stare at the bloody mess. She felt a sharp, acidic pang of regret in the pit of her stomach. She was jealous of whomever had gotten to enact such violence. She clicked her tongue loudly and scanned the room slowly. She was just stepping toward the hole in the glass when Amin snarked his snarky comment. She froze in place and dug her nails into the palms of her hand. Her cheeks paled as she shook. Her gaze locked onto the hole and stared daggers through it.

She'd had the same though at Rayfe already, of course, but now pew-pewing pep blasts through the window wasn't very satisfying-sounding. She wanted to tear out hair by the roots, break bones, and knock teeth from a skull. Failing that, she wanted something hard and rollicking twixt her nethers.

Slowly, a sound like a kettle boiling escaped between her teeth even as a salvo of blasts sounded in the docking bay. She blinked and moved to the window to look through. The angles would have been easier if she could float in zero-g, but this would have to do. Situated right behind them and protected by the glass, she felt a big of glee surge through her frame as she contemplated their shocked faces in her imagination. Assessing the situation, she saw a couple laying down fire toward the barrel where the girl and, now, Viper were trying to hide. She aimed at one of them and fired.

Bai Ling-Li rolled 2 using 4 Fudge dice.  Shoot +3, Firing at "Marines" Backs.

Uh, seems like a hole got blasted through someone there... That's a total of 5 to hit a marine.

After the shot, Baylee happily called through the glass, "Like shooting fish in a barrel, boys!" She then moved aside from the hole to refuse even a moderate amount of return fire and looked at the other two, "Feck, this is just getting exciting!" A big stupid grin was on her face and her form shook. Wide eyes gauged her allies then looked to make sure those marines would not be busting in here easily any time soon.

Bek hadn't managed to get one of the guns when the commander had opened the armory; they'd caught up just as the group was finishing with it, and by the time they got there the last pistol was in the hands of a bulky woman with a ragged haircut and one eye. Not that Bek minded if other people wanted to do the dirty work, especially when it involved making a target of oneself. And Lady Lone-Eye was an excellent target.

What she was not, however, was an excellent shot. Or even a passable one, threatening nothing except the lights hanging from the ceiling. Wordlessly, Bek stepped up behind her and plucked the pistol from her hands, giving it a quick once-over before casually pointing it into the bay and pulling the trigger.

They focused on the ones Amin had identified as the marines, standing just to the side of the hatch with their back against the wall and gaze fixed through it, firing every time a head or hand appeared above the marines' own pile of crates. Bek only took one shot for every three or four that the big man did, but each one hit exactly where it was supposed to and kept the heavily-armed group down.

"You know they can see you there, Bruiser," Bek said, tone soft and conversational as they continued firing into the room. "At least find a crate of your own or something. Nice one, Orija!" they called out, upon spotting the tiny angry woman appear in the control room window and take out one of the marines. It wasn't that difficult, shooting people in the back like she'd done, but it was important to keep up morale.

11:17, Today: Bek Haruhana rolled 0 using 4 Fudge dice.  Shooting into docking bay. (Shoot +5). – 0
Not sure what the difficulty is at the moment; Bek's only trying to keep them down and not shooting, not actively kill anyone. (Though crippling is an option, if the marines don't get the message.)

As his companions prepared for action, the older man regarded the scene upon the flight deck, watching the military men.

The dizziness from his vision had faded, but the grief from the reality stabbed him even more sharply than the acquired affliction in his shoulder.

These men... had to die.  And he... had to help take their lives.

He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming engagement, even as his companions prepared themselves.

The others gathered physical weapons, while he... gathered something else.

He did not question how he was doing so, nor how he knew how to do so.  It was instinctive, as natural as breathing.

And so it was, that as his companions made their move... he made his.

His extraordinary senses reached toward the military men, seeking to cloud their minds, to dull their thinking... and to give his companions the edge they would need to survive...

Narrator:

CSX:
So, we've worked out the basics of the psychic scream... wanna give it a go?
Roll Empathy.  Pick either one marine (the injured marine is marine-3, the others are full health) or the zone...  it will be opposed by the Mob's average willpower (+2).

RPoL Dice Roller:

19:00, Today: Chang Sheng Xin rolled 0 using 4 Fudge dice.  Psi Cloud - Empathy(+5).

Control Room:
Baylee, Rayfe & Amin, Maxir

It took a moment or two to get the angle, but once set up Baylee was able to take a an amazing potshot at the Marines's unprotected back-side.

The particle-blast from the particle-projection pistol sounded way too loud in the comparatively small room, and it shattered the outer edges of the Big Damned Hole in the Glass, sending cracks all throughout the pane...

"Sweet Essa."  Maxir said, glancing over at Baylee.  "Remind me never to piss you off."

Since I'm using mob-mechanics, Baylee's Superb roll vs the marine-mob's Fair Defend leaves takes two of them out.
Baylee you get to define what "Taken Out" means... so, you tell us what happened to them!
Side note: The (4) marines are now aware of the group in the Control Room.

The marines started yelling, and changing up their positions, turning to face the Control Room.   A couple of them fired off shots at her, clearly visible through the glass.

Marine-Mob rolled 4dF(+1) + Shoot(+2) +2 Teamwork = Attack(+5)
Baylee: Please defend vs PEP Shoot Attack(+5)



At the same time, Karnell was working through the firewalls to get to the hull control.  He found it surprisingly easily, but found that he couldn't disengage all the safety protocols in place.   The subroutine for safety-checks was fairly easy to spoof, but it still had to be done.

Amin was removing a mechanism from the door to the flight deck proper.  Apparently whoever the headless serviceman was, he'd barred the doors from the inside.  There was formed steel and data conduit wrapped around the handle, and the electronic sensor pad had been ripped from it's housing.

Amin looked over at Karnell. "Venting takes about three minutes."  he said, turning back to the door and unwrapping the data-conduit with what seemed to be excessive care. "Give it a one minute lead-time.  Ah.  Got it!"

Amin held up a fist-full of data-conduit, threw it to the floor.  "You."  He laid a hand on Maxir's shoulder, the man's mouse-brown hair lit up garishly pink by some of the flickering lights.   "Can you convince them to stand down?"

Maxir went wide-eyed.  "Me?  Why me?"

"You're a politician." Amin said. "That's what you do.  You talk people into doing things they don't want to do.  Now's the time to prove you were worth saving."

Maxir swallowed hard and put his hand on the door handle...

--
I'm gonna say that Opening Hull Door has an automatic sequence that it needs to follow, that goes like this:

1. Audible Warning
   
2. Lockdown
   
3. Vent Atmosphere
   
4. Open Hull Doors

This message was last edited by the player at 21:19, Fri 16 Apr 2021.

Flight Deck
Bek, Sheng-Xin, Viper Lincoln & one allied Unnamed-NPC, Marines(6),
Tech-Crew(3) & Gilina

Spohr looked up at Bek with a lopsided grin.  "I'm too damned pretty to die, but if it makes you happy..."  and he moved--with a crouched low-profile lope--towards the stacked barrels on the side of the hangar.
He's not an idiot, so the barrels aren't fuel.  Let's say they're coolant...

Somewhere there was another pep-blast and suddenly, the marines were yelling.    They were turning toward the control room, where Baylee was clearly visible through the fractured glass.  But, in doing so, it wasn't lost on anyone that most of the marines had turned their backs in surprise.

How not very marine-like. so, maybe they aren't marines...
Marines get Between A Rock & a Hard Place
Viper loses Pinned Down
Tech-Crew loses Pinned Down


"Gilina!"  Someone yelled.  One of the tech-crew.  "Now!"

The stubble-headed tech-girl turned to Viper. "Tell me you were going to try to save me."  she said, and there was a glint in her eye.   Viper noticed then that there was blood all across her left hand.  A patch of mottled flesh torn from the back of her hand.  It looked like a third-degree burn and Viper could see tendons through the mess.  Then it occurred to her that the woman's neck and half of her face was a patchwork of little scars, patches of healed skin.  "'Cause if you wanna save me, you'll want to grab the medgel there, and follow me."

Gilina indicated a couple of cannisters of "SpraySkin" and Medgel inside the toolbox.  Apparently, Gilina, the Tech-Girl had been injured and had been caught at the first aid supplies when the marines entered the flight deck.


One of the marines lifted their pep and started firing randomly.  One of the blasts hit  the one-eyed woman Bek had taken the pistol from, and she went whirling to the ground...

Spohr fired off another shot, but the blast went wide, denting one of the barrels the marines were crouched behind.

"Campbel!" one of the marines shouted.

Karnell had got into his stride now. It was strange how it all seemed to come flooding back. He had no idea how he knew how to do what he was doing. He had no clue who any of these people were, where he came from, or indeed, where he was. But one thing he did know how to do was to look at computer files he was absolutely not supposed to be able to access.

So, with one casual flick of a hand, he set things up for the escape. "Three minutes it is. You had best hope we have three minutes. Actually, you'd best hope we have more. If that reactor core blows while we're too close to the station, the shockwave will tear the guts out of that bag of bolts we're going to entrust with our lives. But all I have to do is press this button, and the process starts. We'll have one minute from when I press it. If we're not in the hangar by then, the lockdown means we never will be."

But even as he spoke, his hands were flying. It was hard to follow what he was doing, the text on the screen shot past so swiftly. But it was simple enough to guess that, whatever it was, it had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with launching that ship. It looked far too complex a process for something that he had already stripped down to I just press this button.

Despite the situation, Maissa was moved by the direct stare, the desperation, the pain of her "sister".
"Yes. Exactly.", she stated with all her heart.
She pocketed her Pep, grabbed the canisters, and took the pose of the athlete ready to start into a sprint to the other base. Keeping with the body language, she looked at the 3 techs and inclined her head towards the Marines, while mouthing "C.O.V.E.R.F.I.R.E"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:46, Sun 18 Apr 2021.

She felt the surge go right through her. It recalled to her the sensation of needing to pee so bad her body hummed with the pressure. There was a tightness just behind her navel or maybe just a bit lower. She watched the first blast impact a man's back and sent cloth, flesh, blood, and bone scattering through the area. Laughing maniacally, she sent a couple more blasts into the group scattershot then yipped in delight as another blast caught a man in the shoulders as he hopped the creates to seek protection from her. She smiled a bit calmer now at the spray of blood and the eruption of pained screams from the man. The first sat slumped against the create which had not protected him while the rest now hid from her.

She blinked at the return fire came in and the tight, pleasant feeling suddenly dropped to be replaced by a spike of fear. Rather than duck down or twist from the shots, Baylee planted a fist on her hips and tilted her head back to laugh. Though her own blasts had cracked the glass, she expected it would take the brunt of the return salvo and she could handle whatever was left.

A small part of her wondered where this confidence came from. Her form seemed relaxed, comfortable, excited by the danger.

Going to Invoke the Glass for +2 and defend with Physique
Bai Ling-Li rolled -2 using 4 Fudge dice.  Defend (+5), Physique +5, Invoke Glass +2. Success? Haha. That roller is either Hot or Cold for me!

Her laughter continued undaunted as shards of glass flew from the window and embedded themselves in her flesh. It only died down after the salvo was over. Still, mirth danced in her eyes as she leveled a somber expression at the window and its weakened state. Briefly, she glanced into the reflective window and saw the various rivers of blood flowing over her form distorted by the rapidly decaying glass. She licked her lips slowly and felt a hunger twist her innards. Her hand fluttered up to her midsection and danced over the feeling. It dipped lower for a second, sliding along her unremarkable overalls and revealing a flat stomach corded with muscles. Grinning, she brought her fist up into Amin's stomach, "We need something faster, Amin. And certainly with more punch packed." A slow grin played across her face as her head turned to regard Amin fumbling at the door. She then acknowledged the man at the terminal with a nod, "Roger, getting us into the bay STAT." The first step echoed in her ears as the boots hit the grating under her feet. The second and third hollow, metallic reverbs sounded as she sped toward the door, "You, weakling, get outta my way!" She tucked the pep into a pocket and reached for the debris reinforcing the door. She was moving far too fast for the man to actually clear the zone though, so she casually backhanded him across the face as she shouldered her way into his space.

Bai Ling-Li rolled 0 using 4 Fudge dice.  Deceive. Per our discussion, I'll just fail here.

As soon as she was within his space or as close as he'd allow, she looked into his face with bald curiosity, "say, Amin, this whole situation is getting me going. You packin?" She made to grab for his crotch.

Bai Ling-Li rolled -1 using 4 Fudge dice.  Crotch Grab (Attack), Provoke (+4).
This message was last edited by the player at 08:11, Mon 19 Apr 2021.

Karnell waited until the files he had found had been copied, and then he tapped a single button. The console spat out a small plastic sliver: a data chip, swiftly printed, filled with all the information he had found. He took it, and tucked it away in his clothes for future reference. Once he had time, he could decrypt it. What he told the others would depend on what he found. It was never wise to reveal what one held in one's hand until the right moment.

Heturned and looked at the developing altercation. "Remind me not to find you on a bad day. Don't get too sidetracked with your antics. Time to get out of here!"

Flight Deck
Bek, Sheng-Xin, Viper Lincoln & one allied un-named-NPC, Marines(6),
Tech-Crew(3) & Gilina

One of the tech-crew nodded at Viper's mouthed words.  They disappeared for a moment as a few stray shots went past and dispersed along the hull of the Orishi.   Moments later, they re-emerged with some sort of cluster of parts bound together with salent-twine.  One of the crew--the only one with a pep--fired off his weapon while the other the jury-rigged thing.

It landed just short of the marine crew, then exploded, sending a concussive blast rippling out and a bright greenish fire erupted from the middle of it.

"I got it!" someone else yelled, and there was a burst of white-ish exhaust from the rear of the Orishi as a small orange light above the entry started blinking, heralding the imminent opening of the ship's airlock.


--
Tech-Crew rolled 4dF(+3) + Shoot(+1) vs Marine-Mob 4dF(+2) + Shoot(+2) to create Aspect Covering Fire
Result is a TIE: Success with a cost
Tech-Crew creates Covering Fire but they lose a man in the cross-fire

Viper
Please roll Athletics vs Marine-crew firing.  They got (+2) on their Shoot roll.  You can certainly invoke the Covering Fire if you want.

Maissa rolled 4dF(0) + Athletics (+2) + Covering Fire (unknwn) vs Marines (+2) : Success

Maissa sprinted like her life depended on it, and it seemed the distance between her cover and the techs' cover grew further as she ran to it... But she wasn't hit, and after an indefinite quantum of time, she had joined the Tech-Crew. Maissa let the canisters loose for whoever would want them - she was no doctor.

But she had enough of being shot at, so she drew her pep and took position next to the other pep-owner, determined to give the "Marines" a taste of their own medicine, as soon as a she could get a window of opportunity to shoot through the very literal Covering Fire.

She forgot to shout to Gilina to also use this diversion to change places...

Maissa rolled Shoot (1). Is there a way I can spend 1 Will point to help hit the target? "The desire to hit guides the bullet" is an old saying among shooters...

Control Room:
Baylee, Rayfe & Amin, Maxir

Amin grunted with annoyance and took a stiff step back from Baylee, even as the glass frame retorted with a loud crack-crack-crack as a spiderweb of cracks extended to the edges on either side.  Another blow and it would shatter.

Rayfe grabbed the data-chip, clenched it hard. Then knelt for a moment and rolled up the lower hem of his jumpsuit, slipped the data-chip into the fold.

There was another blast on the flight deck, and a miasma of greenish flame snaked up.  Chemical reaction between something and drive-coollant.  It wasn't--technically--dangerous, but it was mersmerizing as hell.  ALthough long-term inhaling of coolant-fuel did lead to some levels of dementia and psychosies, he'd read somewhere.  Or knew already.

"I've got it!"  someone yelled and there was a hiss of decompression as the orange beacon at the rear of the Orishi lit up, warning of imminent airlock opening.

Life-Boat Five Away.  Life-boat Four Failure.  Reactor Core overload in approximately one minute.  Seek Assured Clear Distance.

"Campbell, you fuck!" someone else yelled.  "Don't you die.  I'm not done with you!"  But it wasn't an admonishment, it was a plea.

Flight Deck
Bek, Sheng-Xin, Viper Lincoln & one allied un-named-NPC, Marines(6),
Tech-Crew(3) & Gilina

Life-Boat Five Away.  Life-boat Four Failure.  Reactor Core overload in approximately one minute.  Seek Assured Clear Distance.

Then the lights in the flight deck went out for a moment.  When they came back on, all the lights in the rim were blinking warning-light orange.   Klaxons warning that the flight deck was going to be sealed in preparation for the outer-hull opening.

The marines snarled, but the audible ka-thunk of restraining bolts indicated that there was no going back via the corridor.  And those convicts who'd waited in the corridor, themselves?  They were cut-off from the Orisihi...

--
Introduce new Aspects:
Ongoing Klaxons
Decompression Immanent

Baylee blanched minutely as it seemed her plan would not work. Her shoulders bounced in a small shrug as she guessed that she would just do it the hard way. <red>"We need on the other side of the wall, Amin. The door is too slow and... well... you piss me off. Didn't your mother ever warn you not to piss off the crazy ones?"</red Smiling, she made to grab Amin. Something just below the surface of the blank slate of her mind whispered. She heard and old, papery voice instructing her on how to move her wrist, shift her weight, control her opponent. As opposed to the instincts at the fore concerning the rest of this prison mob, Bayleee trusted this voice and moved smoothly in accordance with the instructions.

Bai Ling-Li rolled -2 using 4 Fudge dice.  Grapple to Throw Amin into window. Fight +4. Invoke Amin's Injuries for +2. Seriously, these Fate dice hate me... Anyway, that's a +4 success. She is throwing Amin through the window. If he gets hurt in the process, then yay!

"Oh for the love of..." Karnell watched the ongoing struggle between the two people, and wondered exactly why nobody else was able to see the obvious.

He rose from his kneeling position, grabbed the corpse off the floor, and threw that at the window, instead of a struggling prison official who clearly objected to being an improvised battering ram.

Even as he did so, he remarked, in his usual slightly sardonic drawl, "Three minutes. If you're not on that ship in the next hundred and fifty seconds, you're dead. You might want to rethink your priorities."

And with that said, he made to follow the corpse out through the window, assuming the window was now smashed enough to let a person through. He did not seem remotely concerned about getting shot, as he reasoned that everyone else was now going to have better things to do than shoot at him. His progress was calm, even relaxed, and as he went, he flicked a few shards of glass off his jumpsuit, with casual indifference.

OOC:

13:21, Today: Rayfe Karnell rolled 2 using 4 Fudge dice.  Throw stuff through breaking(ish) window! Physique (+0).

Using Stunt: Right Place, Right Time, to defend against physical attacks using Will (+4 shifts).

[Enter Virtanen, armed and disguised one of the Marines.]

As the lights on the flight deck flicker off, orders are barked by the leader among the marines. They form an arc and load their rifles.
Screams contrasted by cold reports come across their radio, distorted by signal interference from the reactor. Their leader raises a commanding gesture.

There is panic amongst the tech crew, and then an eerie silence cut by low-pitched droning leaving the marines' radios even when they're off.
They train their rifles on the various convict & tech-crew survivors around the flight deck. Faces behind the sights bear no expression.
As a green light flickers on their rifles with an audible beep, the bulkhead door to the flight deck shuts with a deep, cold thud, a last toll for those on board.

"FIR-" CRACK

Before the order to fire can be given by the one pointing to the doomed tech-crew, one of the marines among the firing squad charges the leader. His battlecry is muffled by his helmet.
They are shoved against one of the flight deck's maintenance panels, and in the ensuing few seconds of shock, the rebel marine snatches the magazine out of their rifle.
They ram the end of it straight into their helmet, lodging it into the cracked visor. The rest of the marines are momentarily distracted by the chaos.
The rebel marine uses the end of his rifle as a blunt weapon, smashing the leader's gun hand with it.

Now the rebel marine points his rifle at the disoriented leader and looses a shot towards his neck.

---

20:31, Today: Virtanen rolled -2 using 4 Fudge dice.  Attacking one of the Marines. Fight (+3) Shoot (+2)
That sorts out to (0). If that isn't enough, I want to Invoke Flickering Lights for a reroll.
Let's say the moment the lights flickered off, Virtanen took advantage of the environment and tackled the leader when he wasn't aware.

I assume the Marine that Virtanen attacks is still armed in some way with a pistol or a knife or something. Description is for show.
Depending on the situation, Virtanen may engage the rest with fire and CQC anyone that tries to charge him.
He may be professionally trained but his own disorientation and amnesia is dulling his skills.

P.S I'm taking Seagreen for Virtanen's speech.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:40, Fri 30 Apr 2021.

Tech-Crew(3) & Gilina

Maissa grabbed Gilina's arm and shouted over the shooting and klaxon commotion : "BFF, I'm the best pilot in this cubic parsec, but I need some time to get used to the commands. Please lead me to the pilot chair! But first, here's my gun, give it to your best shooter. It's name is return."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:46, Mon 03 May 2021.

The older man watched as his psi static clouded the minds of the marines... and as their actions became more random and less marine-like... and as they were overcome.  His eyes were an interesting mixture of pain and peace.  He did what needed to be done, but he grieved.

He shook himself as the greenish fire erupted, and as one of the tech crew members was hit in the cross-fire.  Here, at least, he could apply his gifts to help and heal rather than hinder and harm.

He breathed a brief prayer of thanksgiving, and stretched out his extraordinary senses.

Subjectively, time slowed down.  He watched as the battle slowly raged, through the flickering lights and klaxxons... and the blinking orange light of the ship.

Uncertain, he took a step forward... then another... and with increasing certainty, he saw the path before him.  He knew where to step, when to duck, as he made his way over to the fallen tech crew member.

After having to leave behind so many, even after having to hinder some of those trying to leave... here was one more that he could save.  And so he would... even at the risk of his own life.

OOC: I am self-compelling We Feel Your Pain, whether or not it is worth a fate point.  In character, that is definitely what CSX would do.  :)

Flight Deck
EVERYONE
Marines(4), Tech-Crew(2) & Gilina</B>
Aspects: Ongoing Klaxons, Decompression Immanent

Karnell lifted the headless corpse and threw it at the window as Baylee grabbed Amin's wrist, and shoulder, stepped into the man, close enough to smell the sulfurous odor of his uniform.  Reflexively, he tried to step back, which gave her the room she needed to cant her hip into his and use the leverage to swing him to the side and over her back--into the window behind...

Where the window might've taken the brunt of one body, it couldn't withstand the force of two, and whatever remained of it, shattered into thousands of cubes of safety-glass.

Amin landed with a grunt.  The corpse landed without it.

Two of the marines were facing the window, when the body came through, so were completely unprepared when two of the marines startedfighting among themselves.

Virtanen was close enough to smell the distinctly pugneant scent of "rocket fuel", distilled alcohol made by the crewmen.  These guys weren't just disorderly, most of he group were sloshed and desperate!

New Aspect:  Marines: Sloshed & Depserate


The distraction, at the entrance to the Control room, provided enough of a break for half of the convict mob to move across to join the Tech-Crew.  Bek, Spohr and Sheng-Xin covered the distance quickly.  The one-eyed woman moved with a space-eating lope that belied her bulk.

"Door's open, people.  Let's not tarry." The heavy-set black man said.  And he fired into the marine-mob.

The marines seemed to be fighting among themselves, but he wasn't going to question providence.

Spohr rolled 4dF(+3) + Shoot(2) for Attack(+5)
Marine-Mob-B(2) rolled 4dF(+0) + Shoot(+3) + Mob(+1) for Defend(+4)
1-shifts of stress is enough to take one mob-member out.

Inside the Orishi
Viper & Gilina


Gilina led Viper inside the Orishi.

It was a moderate size, for a corvette.  It had a respectable hold, though it was empty at the moment.  Several of the panels around the hold had been removed revealing extended spaces that could be used to hide cargo or even people!

Gilina ran down the main corridor, past the berths and common space that led to the AI Core, the engines and life-support systems, into the fore of the ship, where the cockpit was.

"Where is it?" Gilina seemed near frantic.  "Ah, Alama!  It's online!  The Orishi AI was powered-down right here.." She indicated, at the entrance to the cockpit.

It was a small but comfortable space.  The cockpit was obviously a place well loved and well-cared-for by it's previous occupant.   Most Hegemony or Galactic Authority ships tended toward the austere or stripped-down conservative feel for their operating cockpits.  But there were touches here, that suggested something warmer.

For one, the cockpit chair was real animal hide of some sort.  Soft, supple, and the memory-gel underneath it conformed to Viper's body like as welcoming host.  Like a lover.



--
OOC:  I'm not going to need any kind of pilot roll at this time.  It's enough to get you off the ship.  And I don't like the consequences should the roll go bad.  So, you've got basic power-up, thrusters, etc...

But to get more discriminate access, you'll need to do succeed on a Systems(+2) roll.

Inside the Orishi
Viper & Gilina


"Please turn it on. Turn everything on". Maissa sat in the cockpit chair and reflexively harnessed herself. Her urge to pee would have to wait. Then she scanned the controls without touching anything. Thrusters on the right, as they should be. Sensors on the left. Weapons on the rollaway drawer board - she shouldn't have use of it yet, but it was good to know the previous owner did not push the customization further than this terrible makes-you-an-animal-rights-activist decoration.

Communications... Reactor, Engine and Propulsion status... Jump-Drive will have to wait... Shields... Life-Support and Gravitics behind her...

But to get more discriminate access, you'll need to do succeed on a Systems(+2) roll.

"Stay around will you? Saving lives is a team's work" she told Gilina with a smile. "I need you. A successful flight is 90% due to the technician's work", she recited, not really believing it. But it helped to motivate.

"Get the information, then act on it". She thought to herself. First, how much time was left before the atmosphere was flushed out? The countdown would be broadcast through the coms. She tuned into the flight deck channel. 97 seconds. Good. She connected the countdown to the intercom and the external speakers, to warn the others.

Maissa Haukea (Systems) rolled -1 (+1 skill) (+1 ship skill) (+invoking my personality What's Life Without a Little Excitement?) vs +2 difficulty
The speakers began to blare "94 seconds to decompression" over the Ongoing Klaxons and Decompression Imminent beacons. Was there anything less funny than all these signals? You'd figure you're in a fancy fair or something... All those people on the flight deck must be so excited!

When the AI was turned on, Maissa waved and smile at the cockpit camera.
"Hi, I'm Maissa, your new pilot.
Introductions will have to wait, because we've got to get out of this place before its reactor implodes - or explodes, IDK-HWIK?
Set emergency takeoff procedure.
Skip the whole checklist.
Test airtightness. Isolate and lock the not-airtight compartments.
Rear ramp and cargo hold doors stay open until I order to close them."

She was taking a risk there. If people took refuge in the hold and it was not airtight, she would soon carry a cargo of frozen meat.

*IDK-HWIK=I don't know-How would I know?
This message was last edited by the player at 20:06, Wed 05 May 2021.

Seeing the dual bodies launched through the window, she grinned like a drug addict on a fix. She shifted the grin to the male then shrugged as his words and actions hit her, "This was more fun. Did you hear the sound he made? So pleasant~~~!" But the diminutive female was already moving. A smarter person, or wiser, mi9ght have made a dash around the marines for the ship. She felt it in her soul that she was not that. Smart perhaps, but incautious. A part of her calculated angles, noted gravity, factored mass; the majority of her anticipated the crack and spray of blood.

She rushed to the window and leaped as it got close to plant a foot on the rim and launched her self into the marines. She'd aimed for the tall one such that her flying knee would impact his face. IN her mind's eye, she saw the perfect maneuver of her grasping a double fistful of his hair as she got closer to make sure that nose rammed good any hard into her knee.

Bai Ling-Li rolled 0 using 4 Fudge dice.  Attack Marine: Fight (+4).

She saw the attack, rolling through after, then bolting for the ship's ramp. Why go around something when you could bull your way straight through. The slight minx spared not a thought for Amin now she'd had her fun with him. If he made it out with them, fine. If he wanted to bring the altercation up again, she'd be happy to oblige. She'd be just as happy to watch his stupid face as they left with the ship and he was still in the docks.

Pretty sure I burned all my Fate unless wiping the floor with Amin got me anything. So, this is just spite and Baylee's personality. She's in 'hot' more right now, so I am trying to keep myself in that mindset.

Karnell hopped down to the ground, and despite being amongst a bunch of apparently self-attacking marines, did not seem especially concerned by this fact. He just sidestepped as one of them nearby was shot at, and calmly ducked to heft the injured, and somewhat dazed-looking, Amin, up to his feet. He kept his arms about the man, helping him towards the ship.

"No lying down on the job, old boy. Right now, I need you alive. We can argue about who do did what to whom once we're not in imminent danger of dying. Now get your legs working before she shoots them off, hmm?"

And with that, he limp-dragged the man into the ship, pausing only once to let a stray PEP bolt fly past him like an angry insect.

OOC:

16:25, Today: Rayfe Karnell rolled 0 using 4 Fudge dice.  Defence against annoyed marines! Will (+4).

16:20, Today: Rayfe Karnell rolled 2 using 4 Fudge dice.  Carrying Amin to ship. Physique (+2).

That's +4 shifts using Right Place, Right Time, to defend against anybody who might want to attack. Rolled pre-emptively to help speed us along.

And +4 shifts to carry/help Amin inside. Hopefully that is enough to get us both into the ship!
This message was last edited by the player at 15:30, Wed 05 May 2021.

VIPER

"Please turn it on. Turn everything on".  Viper had told GIlina.

Gilina gave Viper a blank look, but there just wasn't time to explain that the AI she was referring to was a humanoid android network-linked to the ship.  They'd had to power-down the android to get access to the ship's database to search the manifest.  By rights, it should have been in standby until...

Gilina shook he head, and cursed.  They'd closed the airlock to deny the marines entrance.  When they'd re-opened it, it must have triggered the android's boot-sequence.  A straight shot to your own foot.

Gilina moved about the rear of the cockpit cabin to enable systems and prep the ship, as best she knew how.

Baylee & Rayfe
and by inference, Sheng-Xin, Bek, Virtanen

Bai Ling-Li rolled 0 using 4 Fudge dice.  Attack Marine: Fight (+4).

She saw the attack, rolling through after, then bolting for the ship's ramp. Why go around something when you could bull your way straight through. The slight minx spared not a thought for Amin now she'd had her fun with him. If he made it out with them, fine. If he wanted to bring the altercation up again, she'd be happy to oblige. She'd be just as happy to watch his stupid face as they left with the ship and he was still in the docks.

Pretty sure I burned all my Fate unless wiping the floor with Amin got me anything. So, this is just spite and Baylee's personality. She's in 'hot' more right now, so I am trying to keep myself in that mindset.
</quote>


Baylee rolled 4dF(-4) + Fight(+4), spent a fate-point to reroll 4dF(+0) + Fight(+4)... so Baylee Attacked with Fight(+4),
Marines Defend with 4dF(-1) + Fight(+3) + Mob(+1)=  Marines Defend(+3)
Baylee SUCCEEDS, applying 1 stress, which is enough to take one out.
This leaves one marine, who isn't really in a position to fight.
Virtanen may deal with him if so desired.

Rayfe, picked up the commander who grunted groggily.

"No lying down on the job, old boy. Right now, I need you alive. We can argue about who do did what to whom once we're not in imminent danger of dying. Now get your legs working before she shoots them off, hmm?"

"Knew you were a good pick."  Amin said, his voice slurred.  He was getting worse.  One eye was swollen shut and his arm was wincing with pain as he made his way--supported by Rayfe to the ship.

"Where's Barrett?"  he asked slowly, having obvious trouble with his words.  "It'll all be easier with Shiny."
Technician Barrett was with Commander Amin when they brought you out of stasis.  AMin sent him a couple levels up to pair his agent with the command module--something Rayfe would know was a patent absurdity (made metagame sense at the time, but not now).  So... Barrett was off to do something that Amin didn't want the PCs to overhear.

Also, Thanks for the pre-emptive defence.  Marines aren't attack him.
But Virtanen on the other hand...
Remaining marines rolls 4dF(-3) + Fight(+3) to Attack(+0) Virtanen
Control, on behalf of Virtanen rolled 4dF(+0) + Fight(+3) to defend against the remaining marines Fight(+0) attack == SUCCESS in defence

Sheng-Xin had dragged the fallen tech-crewman on-board, laid them in the big open space of the rear hold.  He was going to go back for the others, but they'd followed him in.

Bek and Spohr brought up the rear, One of the other convicts wearing a grey and green jacket that the marine-group had been wearing followed, with wide-eyed thin-man with a shock of brown hair.  Maxir.  Maxir carried a pep bttu didn't look like he knew one end from the other.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:26, Tue 11 May 2021.

Karnell frowned at Amin's words. Another thing to squirrel away for future examination. He still had no clue why he was here, but it was very clear now that Amin definitely knew those answers. Karnell was going to keep him alive long enough to learn them. After that, well.. that depended on what he discovered.

Still, he dumped Amin down in the hold, next to the injured technician. He knelt down and spoke in curt tones, a far remove from the urbane drawl he usually adopted. And he spoke quietly, not wanting to alarm the others at this point. "Barrett's dead." It was not a punch he was willing to pull. Hurrah for sociopathic tendencies. "Unless he found another way off this station, he is dead. I don't know what you sent him to do, but there's no way into this hangar, and he is on the other side of the bulkhead. I hope it was worth it. You just got him killed. Now you stay down there, and don't make any trouble, or I'll shoot you myself. I need you alive, but I'm after what is in your head. I'll gladly shoot off a hand or two. Stay there!"

That established exactly where he was right now in their nascent relationsip. Onto the next order of business! He moved swiftly up to the cockpit, and poked his head inside. When he spoke, it was harsh - but not in an offensive, unpleasant way. It was more of a tone that suggested someone under pressure, who was having to rely on other people - and he had no idea whether or not they were even slightly competent.

"Get this rusty bucket of bolts moving, or we're all going to be a great deal warmer!"

Were there other people trying to get on board? Honestly... he really didn't give a damn. His skin was the only one that mattered. Everyone outside could see the situation, and if they were too stupid to do something about it, that was not his problem.

"We're In!"  Someone called via the ships intercom.

And a moment later, Gilina called up a video feed from a camera over the rear access.  It showed the three of the marine-mob--a slighter woman and a heavy-set man carrying the marine who'd had a stump for an arm over his shoulders.

Behind them, the green flame had died out leaving a spreading pool of brownish char-gel across the deck.  The bodies of the others, marines, tech-crew and penal colonists, were visible in the field of view.

"Please!" the female marine called out.  "Lamahabat Allah! Let us come with you!"  The heavy-set man carrying the wounded didn't say anything, only stood tall, the body over his shoulders unconscious.

Twenty Seconds until reactor meltdown.  Seek Assured Clear Distance.  Distress Beacons Malfunction.  Life-Boat Six Away. Biological Containment Failure in Resaerch Lab Four.  Magnetic Interlock on--  And then the ships AI ceased broadcasting.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:55, Tue 11 May 2021.

Bek paused at the bottom of the ramp, eyeing the other refugees as they shuffled up onto the ship and gently encouraging the slower ones to pick up the pace. "Don't stop," the tall slender shooter directed, upon seeing one of them stop at the top. "Find a chair, couch, something to strap in to. Wedge into a closet if you have to; it's not going to be a leisurely ride out of here."

The last of the refugees filed past, and Bek gave the thin brown-haired man a pat on the shoulder before divesting him of the pep-gun he clearly didn't know how to handle. Following up and into the cargo hold, Bek gave a few final hand-flutters to hurry the stragglers further into the ship, and then toggled the hatch's control and the intercom. "We're in."

A call from outside made them turn, and hit the emergency stop button before the hatch could close completely. Three of the Marines were still alive-- or two were, it was hard to tell about the stump-armed one-- limping frantically towards the ship. "Wait--"

Bek reversed the ramp, stopping it just far enough down that they'd be able to board, and jerked their head towards the cargo hold, one hand on the hatch control and the other holding the gun on the three. "Come on, then. I hear the weather's turning, you don't want to be left outside."The tone was light and casual, even cheerful, but the barrel pointed towards the grey-and-green jacketed group never wavered. "Leave the weapons, out there or with me. And do make it quick, I can't abide dawdlers. Really quick."

Her chest was heaving and there was a grin on her face as she staggered up the ramp into the ship. Her fingers were dancing lightly over the spray of blood that had erupted over her knees as she took the man out. Her eyes traveled around the room with an avarice and greed that shone out of them like the sun. They settled on Amin for a second, a frown flitting across her face, then moved on. A pink tongue tip darted out to lip her lips and she moved into the ship to start exploring it.

For a time, this was going to be her home and she wanted to know what it's secrets were.

She pulled up short as the marines begged for their lives and looked at the female. "The more the merrier! You were just trying to stay alive, same as us. I won't hold that against you... maybe some other stuff, but not that." She waved the woman to follow and set about exploring the ship.

11:04, Today: Bai Ling-Li rolled -1 using 4 Fudge dice.  Investigation (+1).

In reply to Bek Haruhana (msg # 93):

meanwhile, in the cockpit
"what the frack...", Maissa cursed.

Someone was playing with the emergency ramp button, risking the life of all those aboard when the dock doors open into space.

And wait! Now the clown was lowering the ramp to get more Marines in!
The pilot fiddled with the controls but there was no way to override the manual controls behind.

"frack, frack, FRACK!..." Maissa restrained from punching the board. The seconds dragged like eternity until, by a twist of fate, the rear airlock iris closed before the outer doors of the  flight deck started to open, instead of the contrary.

She so much wanted to leave the cockpit and slug basic security protocols in the head of the androgynous dark-skinned something (man, probably, to be so stupid and careless)... but that should have to wait until she saved all their asses.