Welcome To Gamma World

"What we here for, anyways? Some generations, right?" Toth gathers up a couple wayward spears, while trying to keep an eye on the warehouse.

"That is correct, assuming of path that this whole mission was not just a diversion to get us out of town." Psibocorn calls loudly, turning his body back around to face Sterlin (it can't call over its shoulder, since the mouth is in the "waist"). Then the alien turns back and resumes his inspection of the warehouse.

[b]"We should make this quick I think. I'm worried we are missing something back at the settlement. Find the generators. I'll have Fred clean out the HumVee as best he can. That'd be a sweet ride to add to our collection."[b]

Opera does just that, Dead Fred hauls the corpse out of the HumVee and then they go into the warehouse to find the generators.

[color="green"]::In case a search of some kind is needed I will include a roll. If the check is Perception it is +5. Investigation is +0.

"Hmm, perhaps we should have checked the console before removing the generators. Let me see if I can get anything out of this thing."

Garrthon checks out the console to see if there is any way he can connect into it to obtain any information from it.

"The way I see it, chaps, is that we have a selection to make: do we take these generators back to Haven, or do we skeebabble because we know that Trent was working with these pigs?"

"I wish we had evidence of Trent's involvement. At least more evidence than the word of one person. No offense Psi, I believe you, but the rest of Haven trusts Trent."

"Then we try to snatch him crimsonhanded, back at Haven? Likely he will try something, when we return: 'Surprise! You didn't murder us!' He will worry that we know and will desire to urinate us before we can ruin his blueprints."

The alien does another strange waggle of his eating appendages, looking like a rippling nod and shrug. "Haven is distill the safest place in the Wasteland. Perhaps there is something naughty on these people that will assist us as 150 proof." Psibocorn searches Mothra and the porkers to see if they have anything incriminating.

Toth spits in the dust. "Lets just take these back and see whats what. We'll be ready and if anybody tries to pee on me, well, wouldn't be the first."

"That is an intimidating weapon. A little to cumbersome for me, but it should come in handy if Trent proves to be the bad guy we believe him to be."

Opera preens her feathers down a bit and looks around. "Well...I'm ready to head back and see what is going on."

Psibocorn carries the flamethrower back to the truck, loads it, and returns to check on Garrthon. "Did somebeing say alien? Step aside, there's a good fellow, and see whether I can make dimes of it." Psibocorn also attempts to investigate the console for incriminating evidence. Calling back to Opera, Psibocorn says: "What do you make of this?"

Toth wanders over to see what the hubba-bubba is, and also attempts to discern the function of the computer console, if only to get everyone moving.

"It's a computer, I;m not sure what to make of it." Opera shrugs as she approaches and also tries to get it working.

"Alright, lets see what we can all accomplish together."
Garrthon works with the others to see if between them they can get the console to work.

Psibocorn has definite respect for the robotic Gartthon - autonomous machines back home were excellent technicians and programmers - so he does what he can to assist him: comparing notes/surmises as to what different symbols might mean, order of operations, interface conventions, etc.