Viper was instantly ignited by the sarcasm, and went to grab Karin by the collar.


"NIET! No murdering and no harmin' ANYONE of this crew, bitch!"
--
Viper is opposing the Positional Leverage by grabbing Karin with her right hand and getting closer. So if Karin wants to swing the pilot over, Viper would make that more difficult by being close (less leverage) and tied with Karin (less centrifugal force?). I roll for Fight(+5) because I do not see what else to add ;) Feel free to add modifiers to the result.
oops, that's a -3 on the dice, modified to +2

Baylee rocked back in her chair as the pilot and the merc confronted one another. There was definitely a smirk on her face; there was a pretty good chance she found this amusing. Viper's possessiveness was fun to see, but Baylee assumed that assulating the mercenary was a very poor choice of tactics. Maissa might be lovely to look at and above average in fitness as things went, but Karin could hold her own against baylee, and Baylee could have put the pilot over her knee three times already.

Her smirk faltered though as she noted the subtle change in position. This could be bad if it went on too much further. By now, Baylee felt her blood pumping. Her fingers gripped the table tightly enough to turn her knuckles white and her tongue darted out to lip dry lips. Her body, apparently, felt the need for fluids elsewhere. Grunting a bit, she leaved forward so the front legs of the chair clicked against the floor. If she didn't break this up, things would gt out of hand. Too bad, it was getting interesting.

She glanced at the point of contact between the two women again and barked a derisive laugh, "Well, let's leave start by suggesting that holding onto Karin like that might prove bad for your health." She shifted her vision to Karin, "dan shi putting her on her pretty pero over-stepping pwet would make me feel quite sour right now. I can't say for sure which of us would come out on top, pero whoever it was would be regretting it almost as much as the loser." Something in Baylee's eyes spoke to her relishing the thought of finding out who was who.

She shifted her gaze to AMissa as she slowly rose from the chair. "As for you, that sounded a LOT like giving orders aboard my ship. Ying wei your pretty and good in bed, suo yi don't ruin a good thing by pissing me off. Dui a?" She moved over to Maissa then and ran a finger down along her jawline possessively. Her fist then clenched and, if there had been hair to grab, would have knotted into it and jerked her head. "Now, we were just about to question Amin if your quite done marking your territory?" She gave the womana  look that promised the marking would be return.

Maissa still has her hair : Link back to this game

When her hair is grabbed and pulled, the pain made tears come to her eyes. Now that her plan to have Baylee intervene so-so "worked", the manipulator pilot took her hands off Karin and groaned "She's nowhere to be trusted, captain. Don't nourish a vi... a scorpion in your bosom; she can't help killing, it's in her nature. Things have to be told if we don't want to wake up one day with our throat slit"

Karin stepped back, without speaking, raised both hands in an apparent conciliatory gesture.
"Always have a choice."  Karin said after a moment.  "Don't always have a reason."

She regarded Viper, and seemed as if she was about to say more, but nodded once curtly.

--
Removed Any combat Aspects.

Spohr brought the Zenda-Meier Commander Armin Amin up from the chamber he'd been resting in.

The commander still looked like hell.  His black and red uniform was torn and rumpled, smeared with several different things, brushed against and spilled upon.   The jacket had been loosely buttoned together but the shirt underneath had been utterly removed.

He walked with a slow gait, a limping lope, favoring his right side.  He held one arm close to his side, over his midrift area.  The side of his face was purpling, but his eyes, at least, were sharp.

"Corporal." He said with a weary grimace.  "Are you to be my representative at this trial?"


--
OOC: I'm presuming that Chang Sheng-Xin had done some work on him...  But his injuries were pretty substantial, actually.  I've taken out the Concussion(+2) and downgraded the other injuries, but that leaves him still with Bruised Ribs(+2) and Massive Blood Loss(+4).

Commander Armin Amin:
<Green>Heartless Treasure Hunter, Former Ptolomen Station Commander,
Opinions: I Have Them, Bruised Ribs(+2), Massive Blood Loss(+4)</RED>
Key Skills: Command +4, Athletics 1, Fight 3

"Sir." Karin said in response.  She took a purely military "at ease" position.   But her eyes flicked to Baylee.

"Ah." Amin said. "I understand."

Amin stood tall and proud, though he winced slightly.  He regarded those in attendance and pursed his lips.  "Is this an execution, then?  I suppose no good deed goes unpunished."

The older man regarded the commander quietly as he entered and spoke, and turned to Baylee respectfully.

"允许发言，船长?"<sup>*

*</sup> "Permission to speak, Captain?"

As the situation between the two women diffused, and tried put her most charismatic smile on her face for Maissa. She was not a very soft woman though, in most ways, so she was unsure how the look made out. "I understand your feelings, pero we can discuss it more later. For now, I want a strong arm at my back. I want you as well... for many reasons."

She then shifted her attention to Amin and chuckled darkly at his assumptions. "Ying wei I wanted you dead, suo yi you would be. Nothing you can do to stop it." She smacked her lips as if tasting something delicious. The reversal of roles was sweet. "No, we... er, Casks there, want to talk to you about some misaligned information we have noticed. I, ran huo, want to know what you did to my ship!"

She didn't like this talk of strange modification and drives on her ship. She could be quite overprotective at times. Grunting, she looked to Kairn, "Find a bunk and get settled. Avoid the other marines, for now." She then looked at Casks and jerked her head at Amin for the man to ask his questions. Trying to sooth ruffled feathers, she allowed Maissa to stay.

OOC: I am putting together a short lexicon for Baylee in her description. Hope it helps keep track of her idiosyncratic language. I'll try to keep it up to date.

The older man nods respectfully, and turns his attention to Amin.

"'Peace be unto you.'  I am thankful to see you up, and hope to heal you further as soon as possible."

"Please feel free to stand or sit, as you wish.  I know that your strength is limited."

"Please describe to us, from your perspective, our current circumstances, and the events that have brought us here together..."

"Please describe to us, from your perspective, our current circumstances, and the events that have brought us here together..."


Amin remained standing, his posture still stiff, still proud.   "We are in space, in a smuggler's ship known for acts of piracy across several sectors, stripped of weapons.  You appear to have taken control of the ship's systems and, as convicted criminals from a variety of worlds both in and outside the commonality, you are now trying to figure out what you need to do to cover your tracks and make good an escape.  An escape which, mind you, I facilitated."

"If it wasn't for Technician Barrett's insistence and my command codes, you wouldn't be here.   At best, you'd have been incinerated with the Ptolomen's reactor blast.  At worst, you'd have been ejected and floated endlessly in space until you burnt up in some planetary or solar orbit.

I can only assume that the attack that led to this was a result of someone trying to effect the release of some prisoner or another.  Certainly there was nothing else on the station worth it's willful destruction.  Perhaps someone was trying to free one of you.  But, really, there were over six hundred prisoners in cryo-sleep.  Presumably, most of the sixty-seven personnel survived.  Well, sixty-one, I suppose.


Zenda-Meier will send a crisis response team to try to locate and secure the station's data cores.  That will likely be able to tell them what happened and perhaps even why the Ptolomen was attacked.  But it's a diminishing possibility. But--and this is crucially important for your continued good health--you were not counted as crew.  You were cargo.  And in the wake of the destruction of the station, the cargo will be considered lost.

It is likely in your best interest to move on, perhaps assume new identities.   If you should return to your old lives, Zenda-Meier might be seen as being liable for failure to uphold their end of your incarceration contract.  That will draw attention from your local system authorities and Zenda-Meier itself.  To them, you are already dead."

My only regret is that Technician Barrett did not make it back after releasing the flight deck airlock.  "

Maissa, the petty criminal and daredevil nicknamed Viper, charged with major crimes - that she did not commit but warranted death - focused on the commander's word. She imagined gears working on her own mind. She decided to reveal nothing of what they had discovered, change the subject to Amin himself, and ask broad questions.

"Weren't you the head of the station? How come you did not see the attack coming? Surely you must have noticed one thing or the other about the attacker!"

Another last question made the way to her lips : "Why did you facilitate our escape?"

Amin laughed, wearily.  "I see." he said, then, speaking a little slower and a lot more patronizingly. "Commander is a rank, not a position.  Station commander was Captain Avaren Royce.  I was the equivalent of a watch commander, I suppose.  And the attack didn't happen on my watch.

I became aware of the attack when proximity alarms went off, and we were called to action stations.  The Ptolomen had limited defensive capabilities and the attackers, apparently, overwhelmed them."  He scoffed, this time, the laugh much more bitter, "I didn't even make it to C&C.   The attackers were well-armed and knew where to focus their fire."

"As to why I facilitated your escape."  his face remained impassive.  "Barrett insisted on releasing some of you.  And I had hopes, had plans for a possibility that might have involved your release.  You specifically?  Not so much.  I was reviewing potential candidates for... call it an early release program.  It's pointless now.  Way of the universe to force a change of plans.  I don't have the resources to move forward.  And you're out and awake.

"Stay hidden and I'm sure you'll all live long" his expression took on a bit of a smirk, "and fruitful lives."

The older man listens thoughtfully.

"What are your plans or goals now?"

"Seriously?" He gave Cheng Sheng-Xin a withering look.  "My goal is to survive.  Breathe, eat, hydrate, secure shelter, then secure the same for longer-term.  Once I figure out where you've taken me, perhaps I'll report to the nearest branch office, so as to preserve what little remains of my standing."

He shook his head, as if the question was inane, then "What are your plans, Nikrah?   Figuring out which of us to eat first?"

He looked around the room.  "Yes, I'm sure your societies wrongfully convicted each of you.  And you're not all murderers and con-men and thieves.  But, you think you're safe because I'm under guard?"

"Nikram don't exist." Karin said, her voice flat. "Old wives tales to scare children."

"Saw it with my own eyes." Amin said. "Barrett's arm was broken.  It took just a touch."

The older man met the withering look with gentle compassion.

"When I took his wounds and your wounds upon myself, did it truly seem like my heart's inclination was to eat you?"

"You mentioned hopes, and plans, and potential candidates, and early release, and lack of resources.  Is querying about such things so strange?"

He regarded Amin, and Karin, thoughtfully.

"Please describe to us, from your perspective, all that you know about Nikram."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:01, Mon 16 May 2022.

Baylee couldn't help but grin viciously at this comment, "Wrongfully convicted, maybe. Murderer and thief, for sure. Maybe we'll be safe when you fail at your goal?" She cracked her knuckles.

Then she ducked her head and smiled sheepishly at Casks who was trying to question the man.

All this going on....and it was way over any form of understanding or anything that she should put in for two cents.  Although so far only a few seemed to want to keep her save and although that was not uncommon it was something she really felt comfort in.

What was going on now though was something that she did not understand.  And it also kinda made her uncomfortable.  So staying stepped back with a review of escape avenues should it be necessary.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:31, Tue 17 May 2022.

"Well, then, you should feel very secure."  Amin retorted. "I have no plan.   If you wish to vent your anger at being incarcerated, then I am, I suppose, the highest-ranking representative of Zenda-Meier.  But ZM didn't arrest, try, or convict you.  We simply stored your physicality for transfer to a corporate-owned work colony."

"Though to be fair," he glanced at Sheng-Xin, "If Zenda-Meier had known you to be Nikrah, you wouldn't have been incarcerated.  Your kind has destroyed whole societies.  Heal at a touch, yes.  But no gift comes without a price.  And yours demands blood spilt for blood restored, flesh rent for flesh knit.  But don't tell me you didn't know this.  It's who you are."

--
OOC: I'm playing this such that Amin expected the "brain-fog" of coming out of cryo-sleep to be a temporary thing... like, it should have cleared up by now.  And since he's been in holding or recovering or whatever... He doesn't know that you still don't know who you are...

I regard him thoughtfully.

"Perhaps I confuse you by asking for information that seems obvious to you, but there is method to my madness."

"In short, I did not know this... or much of anything else."

"We actually have no idea whether or not we are all murderers and con-men and thieves, or anything else about ourselves.  We don't even remember our own names.  Beyond whatever minimal data we gleaned from the station, we have no clue."

"Since you expected me to know something about myself, that implies that our memory wipe was actually an accident of some type, rather than by design?  That is... interesting."

"Well then, that brings me to my next question: how can we go about recovering our lost memories?  Who would have such expertise?  How could fugitives access such expertise?"

"I asked about your plans and goals, and what you know of us, for a reason.  I need to know what alignment, if any, exists between your goals and ours.  And, speaking for myself, one goal is to regain the lost knowledge of just who exactly I am..."

Amin seemed honestly confused. "The Cryogenic sleep process is a proprietary process developed for Zenda-Meier.  I know the basics, but I'm not a cryogenics technician.   

His expression settled somewhat in a grimace of annoyance.  "Your section was damaged by debris.  Felt like a mass barrage.  The section above was on fire.  The one below... hull breach. Technician Barrett insisted on releasing some of you.  He'd assisted me in pursuing a project associated with progenitor mythology.  I... I had certain obligations to him.

"When you undergo the the process of cryogenic storage, the cortical stacks are implanted at a key point in your central nervous system."  It maps your brain, molecule by molecule, synapse by synapse.   It doesn't store your memories, as I understand it.  But it captures an exact state of your brain at the time of backup.  When you are brought out of cryo-sleep, the cortical stack remaps the brain to that state.

Without the backup, you'd all be raving lunatics by now.   Initial studies showed that ten standard cycles without the backup was enough to drive people irretrievably mad.  Some of you had been under for nearly 2000 cycles.

OOC: I'm using a "cycle" to be roughly the equivalent of a day, a 24-hour period.  So, a 2000 cycle period is about the same as five and a half years.

Contrary to popular conviction, Zenda-Meier is not in the business of torture.  Some of you, I'm sure, were to serve a predefined term on Vizier's colony.  Some of you were probably going to die there.  You weren't to be executed unless you became an immediate threat to Zenda-Meier staff or assets.   And as sleepers, you were never a threat.  You were just cargo.

"Every stack configuration is unique." Amin said, he slowed down a little, letting a shadow of doubt rise in his voice.   "It is possible, I suppose, that copies could have been sent off-station.  But you'd had to have been very very special cases."

Okay, there is an obvious course of action available based on what I've provided so far...  If you come up with it via straight roleplaying, we'll run with it.  Otherwise, you're welcome to attempt a Tech(+4) roll to overcome the intellectual hoops you need to jump through to get there.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:38, Fri 27 May 2022.

The techno-babble passed far over Maissa's head. And since CSX had spilled the bean...

"We are... free to pursue any opportunities, under the condition that it brings loads of money fast, because this ship needs repair, quickly. You wanted to gather a group which included a fierce warrior - Bai Ling -; the best pilot of the gal - of the station - myself; a healer; a genius handygirl; a genius hacker; a con-man - THE con-man; ... Now you've got them. The Fabulous Team. What was your project? I heard "progenitor mythology", which is interesting, but too long-term. We can't go on a wild goose chase on this ship...". She stopped before mentioning the IA's strange capabilities.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:59, Thu 09 June 2022.

Baylee continued to listen with a slightly bemused and often confused expression. The conversation was progressing beyond her limited technical knowledge. Whatever was a Progenitor Myth? And the only thing she could think to add, Viper beat her to. Thus, she remained silent and watched. Some of this might make more sense as things went on. They certainly did need to be about the business of banking currency or favors. In her estimation, IKSGAB could run on favors if you knew what you were doing. She frowned internally at the bite of knowledge that seemed to float free of context. She knew it was her experience, she knew the knowledge felt true, but couldn't tell you why. She grunted in annoyance and glared at Amin.