Exigency: Worldcarrier Sigma

May 1, 2017 5:48 pm
The Goyermontakon Confederacy’s Epsilon is currently being heavily renovated with classified tech. Kappa, recently purchased by the High Council, mostly relies on antimatter systems: the Highs don’t care about the cost. The Legion’s eight militarised Worldcarriers are a class of their own: their famous Grandcruisers, with multiple HH-fusion generators and weapons batteries to make the most of the electrical output. And it’s said that Worldcarrier Nu, rarely seen and rumoured to be under Paleon control, has a phase unit so advanced that it powers all its subsidiary systems.

Sigma... doesn’t.

A mishmash of ancient wonders and radiation-spewing deathtraps from shortly after the Conglomerate’s collapse, Sigma suffers from the same limitations as other Worldcarriers based off Schismatic relics: the phasedrive is a largely self-sufficient unit, but the miles upon miles of cargo bays and habitation decks are not.

Sigma isn’t the most inefficient of the Worldcarriers, nor is it the most dangerous. But its control decks are largely automated, with vast areas completely off-limits to crew. Even on the outskirts, the deuterium-tritium power core is mostly serviced by cyborgs and Kerenth, to whom the occasional radiation leak is a manageable emergency and not instantly fatal.

A quarter of the ship’s bulk is dedicated to the control decks, situated amidst the vast generators and the famous phasedrive itself: power, utilities, navigation, and the computers responsible for putting the commanders’ orders into action.

This is where the team comes in. Sigma has to replace its reactor’s radiation shielding regularly: huge hydrocarbon slabs, as a DT-fusion generator’s neutron output is hard to contain with mere electromagnetic fields.

Using the scheduled replacement of this shielding as a cover, the team has been hired to enter the restricted area and upload a virus direct to the primary control system: a virus that will unlock all the cargo bays and allow your clients to bleed Sigma dry, having their pick of the deliveries bound for the planet Camblyr.

And for playing their parts in this heist, Kree, Nerves and Dr. Zephyr will be walking away with 1.5 million each in hard currency.

The Bane docks successfully. Your client came through: the authorities didn’t quibble over your clearance. The rest is up to you.
May 1, 2017 6:55 pm
Kree hits the big green button that lowers the docking ramp. It shudders and groans to life, and descends to the deck below. As The Bane's pneumatics fill the hold and the docking bay with an unnecessary but highly cinematic amount of steam, she limbers up.

"Gentlemen, my watch says 373014. If yours doesn't, I suggest you sync it to that for now. It's nearing the end of the ship's day, so we should be arriving right as the shift changes." She jabs the air a half-dozen times, quick viper strikes stirring eddies through the steam. She grins. "You gotta pity a crew which runs on thirty-eight hour days. When this delivery goes under, the ship'll likely go into administration, and probably new management. We might be doing them a favour."

"A ... friend of mine has greased a few palms on our behalf. If things get tense, we've got at least one lifeline in the form of a bent network supervisor watching this sector. His handle is Snake. Probably a machismo thing. I don't know how reliable he is, so I'd rather not have to rely on him. All the same, let me do the talking. And if that doesn't work, well ..." She leaps into the air and scissor kicks a pair of imaginary baddies. "We got other ways of talking."

"How 'bout it, Nerves? Doctor? You know your parts back to front?" She scratches the back of her neck. "You do have the virus, don't you, Nasaius?"
OOC:
Alright! Heck yeah, we're in. And I say, the best way to plan a heist, is to do it.
Last edited May 3, 2017 12:54 pm
May 1, 2017 7:36 pm
As the tell-tale jerking and shifting of The Bane indicate its successful docking, a tall, lithe figure makes his way out of his bunk/lab and down the docking ramp.

He stands close to 2m tall, dressed in what was ostensibly at one point a well-tailored, double-breasted white suit. Now, despite the great care taken to preserve its life-expectancy, the suit begins to show its true age; flecks of faded lubricants and dirt mix with small frays at the edges of the cuffs, elbows, and knees: evidence of the recent weeks spent living a life on the fringes of society, apart from the comforts of the SHARD the suit's wearer once enjoyed.

Where most other alt-humans would show skin, this individual displays a plethora of cyborg tech. His wrists sport bands of high-end synthsteel with multiple holodisplays raised slightly off the surface. To a layman's eyes they appear to be read-outs of a medical nature. Hands and feet are likewise wrapped in metallic coverings and fingers end in sharp, claw-like digits. His face and head also covered in a sleek, mechanical helmet with a multitude of soft, blue-lighted eye-receptors. Pale skin shows from the small opening in the helmet around his mouth, and black lips hide row upon row of sharp teeth.

As he departs the ship, Dr. Zephyr is focused on digging through the black messenger's bag hanging at his side where he keeps all his concoctions and almost runs straight into Kree's whirling kicks. Noticing them at the last second and leaning back out of the way, he responds in a deep, sonorous voice that reverberates even at the low volume he tries to stay at.

"My part? My understanding is my part is to keep the pair of you stitched together in the event this whole debacle goes end-up. I still do not feel quite right about these types of jobs, however I must say the pay-to-hours ratio is far superior to my previous line of work."

Dr. Zephyr take a scan around the near-empty hold and breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank the exomyre we were able to get this far undiscovered."
Last edited May 1, 2017 10:05 pm
May 1, 2017 8:07 pm
Once he finds what he is looking for, Dr. Zephyr pulls out a strange looking device; almost like a gun but much more delicate and encased within is a vial sloshing with greenish-blue liquid. He points it in each of his companions' general directions and let's out a generous spray that seems to dissipate into the air. You are familiar enough with Dr. Zephyr at this point to know about his nanospray injector and his enhancement drug is currently entering the miniature injector ports he implanted into your skin. In a few moments you can expect a heightened awareness and a seeming slow-down of time in adrenaline-induced situations.
OOC:
Enhance applied to Kree, Nerves, and Dr. Zephyr. Create a 1 slot Resource: grants a passive bonus to critical range (+3 from MND 6). Lasts until user critically hits.
May 2, 2017 4:20 pm
OOC:
How much do our characters know about Zephyr's previous line of work? I kinda like the idea that it's a shady mystery. If not I can retcon my post to reflect that!
Kree walks with Zephyr down the ramp and accepts being sprayed like a houseplant. "Fortunately for you, neither job requires a medical license, eh? Remember we're a team of nuclear technicians and high-level management strategists. They must have a small army of maintenance workers on that reactor shield, I bet there are dozens of teams like us wandering all over." She looks around the deserted bay and frowns slightly. "I'm a little surprised it's this empty ... but, whatever. Maybe we're getting lucky."

She brushes an imaginary speck of dust off her maintenance uniform and runs a hand across her hair, which is done up into a bun. "How do I look?" She scans the bay for movement, people, elevators, stairs, anything.
Last edited May 3, 2017 12:56 pm
May 2, 2017 5:10 pm
OOC:
No, I love the post! Obviously you can assume he once held some kind of respectable position by his suit and manner of speaking, but I think its pretty cool he joined up with you guys and you're not really sure where he came from. I'll wait for Nerves to jump in so we don't get too far ahead of him.
Last edited May 2, 2017 5:11 pm
May 2, 2017 5:46 pm
A chuckling hiss precedes the arrival of Nerves from the tech bay. The unassuming Kerenthi makes his way out of the Bane and into the hangar. Instead of his usual robes and guerrilla-style utility belts, Nasaius Fritzitch wears a rather slick blue and orange jumpsuit with a high-end multitool backpack and a jaunty little peaked cap perched atop his horns. The colors don't exactly clash with his purple skin and slightly iridescent scales, but it's a startling amount of sensory overload all in one space.

"I hate these corporate outfits so much," Nerves says, his tail twitching back and forth. "Nothing like branding yourself as a slave, when your 'betters' would starve without your genius. And yes, Kree, I have our intruder. Don't you worry, he's a rowdy little bug - I'll be more than capable of directing workflow away from us. So let's get started, eh? I'm quite anxious to be collecting our payday."
May 2, 2017 7:17 pm
As the team approaches the deserted bay's lone exit, it opens, framing a Gef woman in a Maintenance Association supervisor's uniform. This wasn't planned. You were only supposed to encounter corporate hirelings. But Sigma does have a very small Association presence.

The supervisor seems as surprised as the party. She's not that tall for a Gef, but is nevertheless well over six foot. Her ID badge reads "Deputy Supervisor Haley Barres".

"Who are..." The Gef takes in the uniforms. She deflates. "Sorry. Didn't realise you were more corp temps." Barres shakes her head. "Absolute chaos here. Nine Association technicians called in sick. Nine. I bet they all ate at that new Hindoch place on habitation 4A..."

In truth, they all accepted substantial bribes to stay away from work today. The Association has a reputation for being incorruptible, but there's no such thing. The team's client has a lot of money to throw around.

Barres reads something off her wrist computer and grimaces. "By all rights it should be mechs doing the brunt of the work, but half our heavy drones are dealing with a fire in one of the ecodomes."

Again, the work of your client. A small forest fire is just the kind of emergency to force the reallocation of assets.

"So who are you with exactly? Haegtnol? Limmen·Stellar? Or one of the other corps?" Her eyes drift towards The Bane. "That's, uh, an interesting ship..."
May 2, 2017 7:40 pm
Dr. Zephyr quickly straightens, standing tall but still ending up shorter than the Gef. He nervously clasps his hands behind his back and, not being directly involved with their cover story, looks to Kree and Nerves to move past this unexpected event.

"Ahem, well... We are, umm, with... err..."
May 3, 2017 12:36 am
Kree steps across Dr. Zephyr to stand companionably next to Barres and admires the ship with her, grinning. She offers a handshake. "Isn't she a beauty, Barres? Little bonus for a job well done a few months back. One of the jobs where troubleshooting becomes an unfortunate pun, y'know. Only got her for just the little while, but hey, flaunt it while you got it, right? It's true what they say about the private sector."

Kree starts walking out the exit, hoping to draw the woman into her wake with her natural charisma. "Ever thought of, hah, jumping ship? Now I know you Maintenance Association lot are a bit of a cargo cult but believe me, the grass is greener. Which way to the reactor, by the by?"
May 3, 2017 9:48 am
"Oh, um, I don't think I could leave the Association, I've got six years worth of accumulation in my loyalty fund..."

Maintaining the handshake for as long as practically possible, Kree drags an increasingly flustered and babbling Barres away from the bay and down towards the transit station: just one of the hundreds riddled throughout Sigma. A rapid-fire mixture of queries and compliments ensures the deputy supervisor completely forgets what she was suspicious about in the first place.

Transports of all different varieties and brands are crammed into the narrow spaces between support struts and mysterious machines of indeterminate age and purpose. Sleek Jaoshijean trains dangle from their overhead rail, while underneath bulkier, more primitive magnetic trams are sat at a dozen different platforms.

The Gef indicates a tram that's already starting to fill up with an assortment of bored technicians and engineers. A couple of rad-belt Kerenthi in Haegtnol uniforms give Nerves a nod of acknowledgement.

"The C-line will take you straight to the primary reactor," Barres continues, "but I couldn't tell you where to go from there. You'll have to report to whichever corp rep is on duty." She notices something, and points to the front of the tram. "In fact, that's Ferrin. The Kerenthi woman, leaning on the railing there? Friend of mine, she's one of Haegtnol's human resources liaisons. Whoever you're meant to be reporting to, Ferrin will know. She knows all the different supercorp hierarchies around here."

Someone calls out to Barres. She excuses herself, and moments later is holding her own in a four-way argument with a gaggle of other technicians.

Ferrin is wearing a black hazmat suit, sleeves rolled up to reveal scaly dark-orange skin. She's missing a tail, possibly due to injury or a quirk of her genes, but has three large horns, swept back over her head like a bent trident. Seeing as she can't wear a helmet and doesn't really need additional protection from radiation, it's likely the hazmat suit is simply her uniform.

Her eyes are glowing blue, but they soon dim as she banishes her augmented-reality overlay and examines the party.

"If you're bound for the primary reactor, you'd better get on-board," she says simply. "We depart in two minutes." Then her eyes light up again as she returns to her work.
OOC:
That critical success consumed Kree's Enhance bonus, but she made quite an impression on Barres. If Kree has any future interactions with Barres those rolls will have Advantage.

Rolls

Charm (TN11) - (1d20+3)

(19) + 3 = 22

May 3, 2017 12:39 pm
An unchallenged ride straight to the heart of operations? Kree almost can't believe their good fortune. She picks a spot downwind of Ferrin and relaxes on the railing. Under her breath she says to Nasaius, "cute horns. Bet you five hundred credits she'll respond if you flirt with her. Fifty thousand when we get paid."
May 3, 2017 12:46 pm
As Barres takes her leave and Ferrin gives the party a once-over and returns to her AR overlay, Dr. Zephyr sidles up to his companions and mumbles under his breath, "I suppose that went as well as we could have hoped. My apologies, Captain Kree, I am... unfamiliar with this level of deception and I must say you handled youself admirably. My recommendation is we refrain from any more engaging conversations about why we are here or where we are going and draw as little attention to ourselves as possible. I assume we do know *where* we are going when we depart this tram, yes?"

Spotting 3 seats towards the rear of the train, he motions with an outstretched arm for Kree and Nerves to join him as far away from Ferrin as possible.
May 3, 2017 1:12 pm
Kree repositions herself next to Dr. Zephyr. "Relax, Doc. Remember we're supposed to be bored experts on our way to a boring gig. Here, let's look at some data or something." She projects basic information about Sigma's reactor above her comm unit and gestures to it for the benefit of anyone watching. "Data, data, data. I'm gonna fix it up real good. Point is, we already stand out a little bit. If we sit in a corner with our guns pointed at the door, figuratively speaking, they're gonna notice."

"Besides, I've noticed our comrade's performance spikes under pressure."
She gives the thumbs up to Nerves.
May 4, 2017 6:43 pm
"You are a crass woman, Kree," Nerves growls. "However, your challenge is accepted."

Nerves smooths his suit a little bit, readjusting the hang of the backpack, before attempting to saunter over towards Ferrin. Clearly however, Nerves is not the sauntering sort, and gives it up after a few steps to instead just boldly march towards the Kerenthi.


"Excuse me, Haegtnol human resources liaison, if I may be so bold at the beginning of a work period - where is it that my fellow technical subcontractors might procure libations after the work period has ended with our fellow technical subcontractors?"

Nerves grins solidly. He knows he's got a winning line here.
May 4, 2017 7:01 pm
Kree's eye twitches ever so slightly as Nasaius' voice floats back down the tram. If she really is his type, and Kree does think he has a type, it might actually work. He's full of surprises.

She imagines fifty thousand credits frying on the overcooked slabs of reactor shielding.
Last edited May 4, 2017 7:02 pm
May 4, 2017 7:56 pm
Ferrin doesn't dismiss her AR overlay this time and continues staring into space. "Whichever bar is closest and accepts ration allowance as payment. I wouldn't know. I just head home to my quarters and hope nobody bothers me." She doesn't say anything else. The silence hangs there until the tram's engine begins to start up.

Rolls

Secret Roll

May 4, 2017 9:56 pm
Nerves seems puzzled for a second, and adjusts to the silence before nodding towards Ferrin and backing away two steps. Then he stops and brings his wrist-mounted datatool up, punching a few holographic keys. A friend request is sent to Ferrin for one of the standards of Kerenthi extranet gaming - Time Lords of the Republic, a third person perspective fight-fest known for its character specialization and cross-play of various Kerenth Republic species and mutations.

With another nod, Nerves turns away from Ferrin and makes his way back towards the group.
"Bleh. Romance," he mutters to his compatriots.
Last edited May 4, 2017 10:00 pm
May 5, 2017 1:07 pm
Dr. Z looks up from Kree's data-projections and watches Nerves return with a questioning, cocked head. "Is that what typical Kerenthi romance looks like? Strange, there was no baring of the teeth or kghlapatskch whatsoever." That word at the end you can only describe as a strange mixture of consonants and throat-gargling you couldn't hope to reproduce.
May 5, 2017 1:41 pm
Kree rests her head and arms on the safety rail and watches the tunnel lights flash past. "Nothing typical about it, Doc," she says glumly. She surreptitiously slips Nasaius a credit chit.
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