>”Correct me if I’m wrong, but the War’s been over for two years.”

>>728998
>”That’s true, sir.”

>>728998
>>>”Correct me if I’m wrong, but the War’s been over for two years.”
We're mending fences. The Admiral got a medal for us? :)

>>728998
> That's true, sir.
And there haven't even been any fights yet. Just a cultural misunderstanding.

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You lean forward in your chair, adjusting yourself as you prepare to speak. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” you begin. “But the War ended two years ago.” The Grand Admiral looks at you, then chuckles and raises himself from his chair, standing with his arms behind his back.

“I see,” he says darkly. He then walks away from the desk, over to a bookcase, before promptly turning to face you again. “Do you know what the difference between a junior officer and a senior officer is?” You can tell by his tone that the question is rhetorical, so you wait for him to continue. “Junior officers are in the field. They focus primarily on executing the objectives sent down from command.” His eyes narrow as he smirks at you. “Senior officers are cut from a different cloth altogether. Whether it be a lowly patrol captain or a Grand Admiral like myself, we are on an entirely different level.” He walks back over to the desk, standing across from you. “We deal with the strategies that win or lose entire operations, entire campaigns, even entire wars.” He looks condescendingly at you. “Mister Starwind, you’ve bought yourself a ship. You’re a captain now, a senior officer.” He then returns to his chair, crossing his arms. “But you see, mister Starwind, you still think like a junior officer.”

“Sir,” you say bluntly. “I fail to see what this has to do with my weapons officer.” The Grand Admiral smirks at you.

“The Imperials,” he replies. The smirk disappearing. “They are warlike. Savage is the best term to describe them. They only signed the Armistice so that they could build up their military and charge through the DMZ to attack Earth!” He is almost yelling now, and he sighs before speaking again, collecting himself. “I am merely warning you not to trust an Imperial. Any Imperial.” He again removes his cap and runs a hand along his hair, smoothing it back. “Their ambitions threaten to destroy our entire way of life.” He leans back and sighs. “The War never ended, they merely took a break to build back up.”

>”Have you told this to the Federal Council?” (question further)
>”This is disturbing. Perhaps I should be more careful.” (believe him)
>”With all due respect, I don’t think anyone wants more war.” (doubt him)

>>729232
> believe him
Not unreasonable, it's a valid tactic and he knows them far better than us. Not immediately relevant either.
Maybe ask him if he has reason to think our crewmember might be an agent. In which case we can steer clear of military contracts.

>>729232
>”This is disturbing. Perhaps I should be more careful.” (believe him)
Earth Forever!

>>729232
>>”Have you told this to the Federal Council?” (question further)

"I am also no longer part of your navy, and will deal with my crew on my own. Sir."

We ARE private now, right?

>>729318
Yeah. Allen has been out of the Navy for two years.

>>729232

>She's a 19 year old on a broken-down 60-year old frigate repurposed as a tramp freighter. Truly a staggering security risk.

>>729232
Supporting >>729366

>>729366

(Con't)

> I seriously doubt she's a threat herself, so what do you want with me?

So there's currently a tie between
>>729286
>>729314
and
>>729366
>>729372


Since I haven't started writing yet, I'll wait ten minutes for someone to break the tie, if that doesn't happen, I'll roll a 1d2. Sound good?

>>729395
I'll switch my vote to being sarcastic towards the most dangerous man we've ever met.

>>729440
Alrighty then. Writing now.

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You lean back in your own chair. Quite simply, you’re done letting the Grand Admiral get a rise out of you. You aren't his subordinate, and you certainly aren't a soldier anymore. “My weapons officer is a nineteen year-old girl,” you start. “And my ship is an obsolete, sixty year-old frigate that’s been repurposed as a cargo hauler.” You grin and raise an eyebrow at him. “Truly a staggering security risk.”

Leander looks at you without speaking, almost as though in shock. He’s probably not had someone speak to him like this since the war. Finally, he scowls at you.

“It is unfortunate that a decorated veteran such as yourself would sympathize with such a degenerative people as the Imperials,” he practically spits. “You and those like you shall be on the wrong side of history.” He stands up.

“The wrong side of history, sir?” You cross your arms.

“Of course,” he says. Now he looks more like a school teacher giving a lesson. “The Imperials and their culture are a blight on our species. I thought someone of your merit would understand the importance of being ready to combat them.” He gestures toward the door behind you. “But I suppose you won’t be convinced until a catastrophe happens. Good day, Mister Starwind.” His eyes narrow. “I wish you nothing but safe travels.”

>”It’s ‘Captain Starwind’.”
>Leave without speaking.
>”Good day to you too, sir.”

>>729532
>>”Good day to you too, Admiral.”

>>729440
That made me laugh, were fucked mates
I would have posted for the other option, well see how it will end

And nice that you started a new thread OP and are running tonight! (german player here, so 2am for me but luckily no university tomorrow!)

>>729549
Also going for this. Lets get out of his office and his ship before some serious fight breaks loose. Also, we have to bring our shit to Mars, theyre waoting for us

>>729532
>>>”Good day to you too, Admiral.”

Fuck im tired, sorry op but have to leave, hope it goes on for a while so that i can read tomorrow some if the stuff. Eill follow you on twitter!

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“Good day to you too, Admiral.” You get up from the chair and turn around, walking toward the doors without saying anything else. You open the doors and step out, looking back to close them.

You lock eyes with the Grand Admiral for maybe a second as the doors close, but it is enough to chill you to the bone.

You immediately turn to face the bridge officer that the Sergeant had initially taken you to in the first place, who merely tells you that you’re free to return to your ship. It doesn’t take long to make your way down the two flights of stairs to get to the Geomancer’s airlock.

You find the squad of Federal Marines leaving the airlock in a neat line, with Sergeant Hendricks leading them. Upon seeing you, she gives a salute and walks up to you.

“We have completed our search of your vessel,” she says professionally. “Everything appears to be in order. You’re free to go.”

With that, her marines walk off down a hallway and you immediately go toward the airlock.

“Excuse me,” you hear Hendricks’ voice behind you. “I know you want to get back aboard your ship and everything…” You turn around to see her looking at the floor, twiddling her thumbs. “But it would mean a lot to me if you could do a favor for me.” She looks up at you worriedly. “It’s nothing big, I swear. It’d only take maybe five minutes.”

>”Fine…”
>”I really have other places I need to be.”
>”Don’t you have something you need to be doing?”
>”No.”

>>729855
>”Fine…”

>>729855
>>”Fine…”
It's an autograph isn't it?

>>729855

Fine
Really itl only takes us 5 mins to get done hmm thats fast

>>729855
I'm fine with it, but I usually take about 40

File: [drinks audibly].gif (1.46 MB, 217x217)

1.46 MB GIF

>>729910
>>729915
Heh.

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You sigh, running your hand through your hair. As much as you didn’t want to spend another second on this ship, the young woman in front of you is basically your only fan (at least as far as you know), and she asked nicely.

“… Fine,” you say after maybe fifteen seconds. She practically jumps for joy and grabs your wrist.

“It’s right this way!” She practically squeals as she drags you down a hallway. You immediately notice a sign above you that says ‘NCO STATEROOMS’ and you begin to have a VERY bad feeling about this.

She drags you to a door, which she opens with a keycard. “Come on in,” she says with a smile. You reluctantly step into a small stateroom with sparse decoration. It is larger and more modern than yours, though that isn’t saying much. You step into the middle of the room as Sarah closes the door and walks passed you to a small dresser next to her bed. She opens it and roots around for a solid minute before exclaiming to herself and pulling a tube out of the drawer.

“What is that?” Your eyes widen as she walks over to you. Instantly, you realize that the tube is a container as she removes the cap and gently removes a rolled up piece of paper, unrolling it and showing it to you. Dear god, she actually has one.

It is a Series 4439-B War Bond poster. There is a large illustration of you dismounting your fighter, dressed in your pilot jumpsuit, and looking toward a sky filled with other fighters. You notice that illustrated-you wears his campaign ribbons on his flight jumper, which only dorks actually did. At the bottom of the poster is a message: ‘KEEP HIM FLYING- BUY WAR BONDS.’ You take the poster into your hands. Last you’d checked, only six copies existed, since production had been cancelled due to the Armistice.

“S-so…” You look over to see Sarah Hendricks holding an ink pen. “I know I’m being a bother for asking this, but it would be an honor for you to sign that.”

>”It’s no bother, really.” (sign it)
>”Where did you even get this?”
>”Sorry, I don’t sign things.” (decline)
>”Sure… I guess.” (sign begrudgingly)

>>730172
>”It’s no bother, really.” (sign it)
>”Where did you even get this?”

>>730172
>>”It’s no bother, really.” (sign it)
>>”Where did you even get this?”

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“It’s no bother, really,” you say, taking the pen from her. Her cheeks go red when you say that, and you’re sure she says something to herself.

Her eyes light up as the pen glides across the bottom corner of the poster, making your signature. It actually feels kind of neat to autograph something, though it still feels far too strange to ever get used to. As you finish the signature, you hand the pen back to Sarah, raising an eyebrow. “Where did you even get this? They only printed like, six.”

She smiles warmly at you. “My big sis is a major in the Navy Treasury Bureau. She actually got transferred there right after they cancelled this poster series. She said she saw one fall off the back of a truck! Can you believe they’d just have these loose in a truck bed like that?” You honestly think she’s being sarcastic, but she just keeps smiling, waiting for you to hand her the poster.

You resist the urge to sigh and rub the bridge of your nose. So maybe she's not the swiftest mind in the Federation.

>”Sarah, your sister stole this.”
>”I… You know what, never mind.”
>”Your sister sounds cool, is she a fan of me too?”

>>730338
>>”I… You know what, never mind.”
2pure4me

>>730338
>”Your sister sounds cool, is she a fan of me too?”

>>730338
>>”I… You know what, never mind.”

>>730338
>>”I… You know what, never mind.”

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“I…” You start to speak. “You know what, never mind.” You hand the poster back to Sarah, who hugs it close to herself.

“Thank you so much!” She smiles at you, carefully putting the poster back in its tube. “I’m totally going to get this framed when we get rotated out.”

As she puts the tube back into its drawer, you can’t help but notice a small device with a screen and a FTL antenna laying on her nightstand. An FTL personal communicator. You remember that they used to be banned for individual use aboard ships, but with the war over, you supposed that they wouldn’t need to control information as much anymore.

You walk over a little bit closer to take a look at the communicator. It’s definitely the newer model, with a screen for face-to-face communication, and it has a little anime character keychain thing dangling from it. Cute.

“What do you think?” Sarah walks up beside you, picking up the communicator and handing it to you. “It’s the KI-VIC T300 model. Top of the line,” she says. “I got it as a birthday present.”

You feel the weight of it in your hand, it certainly doesn’t look cheap. Nor does it feel cheaply built when you held it. It is yellow with silver trim, and you’d guess that it’d cost a months’ salary for most Navy NCOs.

“They let you have these nowadays?” You raise an eyebrow at Sarah, handing the communicator to her.

“Yeah,” she replies. “They lifted the ban on personal communicators about a year ago.” She sets the communicator back onto the nightstand. “Thanks again for signing that. It really means a lot.”

>”You’re welcome.” (leave)
>Ask for her contact information, it’d be useful to have a contact aboard the Grand Admiral’s ship.
>Ask her about something. (what?)

>>730566
>>Ask for her contact information, it’d be useful to have a contact aboard the Grand Admiral’s ship.
>Ask her about something. (who got it for her)

>>730566
>>Ask for her contact information, it’d be useful to have a contact aboard the Grand Admiral’s ship.

>>730566
> Ask for her contact info, it'd be useful to phone sex her
> Ask if her boyfriend bought it for her

>>730566
>>Ask for her contact information, it’d be useful to have a contact aboard the Grand Admiral’s ship.


Then tell her we may have an opening if she ever gets sick of Navy life

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“So Sarah,” you say. “I’m thinking about getting one of these communicators for myself once I free up some cash.” You look over to her. “Any chance I could get your contact info?”

She instantly turns beet-red, and her gaze drops to the floor as she fidgets in place, you half-expect steam to shoot out of her ears. “I umm… y-you…” She stutters for a few more seconds. “Yeah… S-sure… Let me just write it down for you…” She walks stiffly over to her desk and pulls out a piece of paper, writing something down.

She then turns around and hands the paper to you, still looking at the floor. “So uh… Here it is.” She barely speaks above a whisper.

You take the paper, looking at the number before pocketing it. Just as you do, your eyes find the communicator again and another thought crosses your mind. “Who got that for you anyway?” You point to the transmitter. “I mean, it certainly doesn’t look cheap.” She looks at you, still blushing though certainly not as much.

“My mom got all of us girls one when we either graduated from training or university,” she says. “I have three other sisters.” She looks off into the middle distance. “Mom wanted us to all be able to call her or each other, no matter what. Plus it’s sort of a family tradition to get your kids something nice once they’ve graduated from something like that.” She looks thoughtful for a moment. “Did your mom get your anything when you graduated from the Naval Academy?”

>”My mom died when I was nine.”
>”Nope, my dad got me a bottle of high-dollar whiskey though.”
>”I don’t really like talking about my parents.”

>>730817
>”Nope, my dad got me a bottle of high-dollar whiskey though.”

>>730817
>>”Nope, my dad got me a bottle of high-dollar whiskey though.”

>>730817
>”Nope, my dad got me a bottle of high-dollar whiskey though.”
Eh, why not.

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“Nope,” you say simply. “My dad bought me a bottle of high-dollar whiskey though. Vintage stuff,” you reply. Sarah raises an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, okay.” She smiles warmly. “I suppose some families just do things differently.” She looks up at the clock on the wall and exclaims to herself. “Oh crap, I’ve got to go back on-shift. My break is almost over!” Both of you leave the stateroom and she walks you to the airlock tunnel. “Thanks again for signing that!” She waves you off before jogging down a different hallway.

With that, you make your way through the docking tube back to the Bad Habit, where Tom is still waiting at the airlock, reading a magazine with lewd art on the cover. “Captain,” he greets you with a casual salute. You close up the airlock and watch through the porthole as the Geomancer’s tube retracts into it. The ship then turns and begins moving off in another direction.

“So Captain, what the hell was that all about? You were there for almost an hour.”

>Write-in

>>730960
Admiral Leander seems convinced our weapons officer is part of some great plot against the Federation. Oh also got a NCO fangirling over me because her sister stole a discounted poster for her. She wanted me to sign it.

>>730960
Grand Admiral tried to strongarm me into firing Cynthia. I politely told him to shove it. After that, I got dragged into a fangirl officer's state room to sign a poster that should never have been made

>>730997
this

>>730960
This >>730973

>>730997
He didn't say to fire her and sarcasm isn't polite.

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Hey guys. OP here. Update is gonna take a little bit since I'm at the store. I'll run for longer than I planned once i get back though.

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“So I met with the Grand Admiral,” you say, leaning against the wall. Tom’s eyes widen at your declaration.

“You mean THE Grand Admiral? As in Isaac Leander?” He takes a drag from his cigarette.

“The very same.” You nod at him. “He seems to think there’s a massive Imperial plot to restart the war,” you continue.

Tom laughs. “Yeah right,” he says with a grin. “I was talking to Corrigan earlier, and she mentioned that anti-military sentiment is at an all-time high in the Empire’s outer colonies. Plus we beat them so badly near the end that they couldn’t even get food from their farm worlds to their industrial centers.” He finishes his cigarette and snubs it out. “Not to mention they ended up keeping all of the colonies they originally wanted. They technically accomplished their objective.” He shrugs at you.

“Not just that,” you say. “But he thinks Corrigan is involved somehow.” With that, Tom has another laughing fit.

“Now you’ve got to be kidding. That girl couldn’t spy her way out of a paper bag,” he replies. “She’s plenty smart, but she’s honest to a fault. Must be her culture.”

“Yeah,” you reply. “That’s Imperials for you, they’re very, very polite, but their concept of politeness involves being honest before anything else.” You could remember that the Empire had declared war a full month before their first major attack. Prior to that, it had all been defense on their part. Though they were incredibly good at that.

“Anything else?” Tom raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you continue. “So that female Marine sergeant is a huge fan of mine I guess,” you shrug. “She had me autograph a poster. You know the one.”

“Hold up,” Tom interrupts. “They only made like five of those, didn’t they?”

“Six,” you correct him. “Her older sister stole one that was being shipped to storage or somewhere.”

“Well holy shit,” Tom muses. “You get her number?”

“You know it,” you reply. “It’s always good to have contacts in the Fleet.”

“Plus she ain’t hard on the eyes either, sir.” Tom grins at you.

“True enough,” you reply.

“Well anyway,” Tom changes the subject. “I’m gonna head up to the bridge and get us back underway to Mars, we shouldn’t have lost too much time.” With that, he climbs the staircase leading to the bridge, leaving you alone.

>Visit a crew member. (who?)
>Explore a part of the ship (you’ll choose the part after this option is locked in.)
>Relax in your cabin.

>>731285
>>Visit a crew member. (who?)
Corrigan. See if she's got an update on ripping apart the CIC and restructuring the FCS.

>>731285
> visit Corrigan
I suppose, although DON'T mention to her that the grand admiral is on to her, she might pass it on to her masters. And damn she is good at undercover work, she has got Tom taking everything she says at face value already.

Plz post ship layout pic again.

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>>731343
Also, Corrigan is a GOOD GIRL. Or maybe not.

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You decide to head forward to see where Corrigan is. You’d mentioned the CIC to her earlier, and you want to see if she’s managed to take a look at it yet.

Your first stop is obviously the CIC, where the two of you had talked earlier. However, upon entering the room, you find several wall panels removed, but your weapons officer is nowhere to be seen. So your next stop is the Wardroom, which is basically the meeting room for the crew.

You enter the Wardroom to find Virgo leaned back in one of the booths. “Hello, Sir.” Virgo says, lifting his gaze from the same book he was reading earlier, it’s something by Hemingway.

“Virgo, have you seen Corrigan?” You lean against the wall and close your eyes, taking a moment to rest.

“Yeah,” he says. “After the marines searched the ship, she worked on the circuits in the CIC, but she went back to her stateroom a few minutes ago.” He points toward the bow of the ship, where the officer staterooms are. “I believe she’s in Stateroom 3, but I could be mistaken.”

“Thanks, Virgo,” you say.

>Visit Corrigan’s stateroom.
>Do something else. (what?)

>>731392
>>Visit Corrigan’s stateroom.

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[1/2]

You decide that it’s best to get this conversation out of the way while you can, so you walk forward into the part of the ship where the staterooms are. The hallway that runs along the center of the ship is very tight, and you imagine that two people couldn’t squeeze though at the same time if they had to. It doesn’t take you long to get to stateroom 3, which is only denoted as such by a number painted on the door with a stencil. You notice that the paint has faded to where you almost can’t make it out.

You knock on the door, immediately realizing that it is, in fact, painted wood and not some cheap plastic like you thought it would be.

“Enter,” is the muffled response you hear from the other side. You open the door and step into a small room with a desk to one side and a small chair to the other, with the wall furthest from the door having a bunk bed for two. You notice that Corrigan has thrown most of her luggage into the top bunk, except for a very nice rug which she has put in the center of the room’s metal floor, it actually makes it seem quite homey. You also notice several knick-knacks on her desk, including a wooden toy soldier.

Corrigan herself is laying in her bunk, reading what appears to be a manual of the ship’s wiring scheme. She looks up and immediately sits up upon realizing that you are the person who has entered her room. “Hello, Captain,” she says professionally. “I was not expecting you. Myself and Miss Cynthia just looked over the wiring layout of the CIC, and she was going to head down to the missile launch system to see which wires are actually connected.”

“I see,” you reply. “So what have you found regarding the CIC?”

She looks thoughtful. Then, she exclaims to herself in her native language. “Please forgive me, sir. Would you like to sit?” She gestures to the small desk. You decide to sit in the little chair there. “I believe that we can remove many of the old FCS machines, seeing as how many of them were disconnected years ago anyway.” She frowns to herself. “However, there are some that we must be very careful with, as they contain volatile components such as lead-acid batteries.”

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[2/2]

“Lead-acid batteries?” You almost have to stop your jaw from hitting the floor. “Why though? Weren’t those machines connected to the power supply?”

“Backup systems,” she explains. She then hands you a small, hand-drawn diagram showing which machines can be removed. “I believe we can get all of those machines out once we reach Mars.” She looks away for a moment, almost as if unsure what to say. “Though, sir… If it would not be too much to ask…” She fidgets for a few seconds. “I would like a small amount of shore-leave when we arrive on Mars. I have heard amazing stories of the place and have always wanted to see it for myself.” She looks at you with pleading eyes. “But if that would be too much trouble for you, I would not wish it, sir.”

>”Sure. I can arrange for some shore-leave. A person needs to stretch their legs between space-flights.”
>”We haven’t the time for shore-leave, Miss Corrigan.”
>”Any particular reason beyond just wanting to see Mars?”

>>731446
>>”Sure. I can arrange for some shore-leave. A person needs to stretch their legs between space-flights.”

>>731446
>"I will look around for another contract to fill up what space we free up. It will have to be a very short shore leave, what are you hoping to see there?"

>>731446
>>731457 is perfect. We just left on our maiden voyage, we will be back here later unless she has a pressing reason to delay now. And espionage is not a good enough reason.

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“When we land, I plan on getting a contract to fill up our extra hold-space,” you say simply. Corrigan looks dejected upon hearing that. “However, I suppose I can arrange a little shore-leave. It won’t be much though.”

“Really, sir?” For the first time, you hear her voice change from the standard monotone.

“Sure,” you reply. “But if you don’t mind, why are you asking for leave?”

Corrigan looks troubled at your question. You really wish you could read her better, even for an Imperial she seems aloof. “Well… When Miss Cynthia and I were checking the connections, she showed me… I believe your people call it a ‘fashion magazine’?” She pulls a magazine out from under her pillow and shows you a page. Models wearing what you assumed were the latest fashionable clothes. “I…” she gestures to her black jacket and slacks. “I only have clothes like this. We do not have such a variety of styles and colors in the Empire, especially for clans with a lower social status, such as mine.” She looks at you again. “I would like to be fashionable, I think.” She fidgets in place again. “W-was that inappropriate to say, sir?”

>”I hope you don’t mean to wear a ball gown aboard the ship…”
>”Fair enough, you’ll get some leave to go shopping. I can’t say how much until we get there though.”
>”There’s nothing wrong with the black, it looks good on you.”

>>731492
>”Fair enough, you’ll get some leave to go shopping. I can’t say how much until we get there though.”

>>731492
>”Fair enough, you’ll get some leave to go shopping. I can’t say how much until we get there though.”

>>731492
> fair enough...

>>731492
Ball gown

Alrighty guys. I'm gonna pause the session for now so I can get some sleep. (It's nearing 04:00 here)

However, ask any questions you like, I'll probably stick around for a little bit before I head to bed. I'll start the next session around 13:00 EST tomorrow, and run until whenever, then I'll be running from my laptop Saturday, and I'll be back here Sunday to finish off the thread!

Some mood music for y'all:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lfp3X_BC3dg

>>731537
Thanks for running Zap

>>731492

>>”Fair enough, you’ll get some leave to go shopping. I can’t say how much until we get there though.”

>>731537
Can we get some ship stats, and maybe a tech manual or something? The players, I mean. It'd be nice to see what we're getting rid of and what we can upgrade.

>>731551
As far as stats go, the Oberon-Class of frigates were designed to fit several criteria:
>Require few crew, minimum of two for flight.
>Be capable of long-ranges.
>Have a missile battery capable of engaging larger vessels effectively.
>Require relatively low maintenance of mission-critical components. (reactors, weapons, navigation systems, etc.)
>Be capable of materiel transport.

It's kind of like a really big PT boat, only in space. And with a decent-sized cargo hold. However, the most you'd be able to take on and survive would probably be a light cruiser, and it'd have to be alone and unawares.

As far as direct stats go, this isn't necessarily a numbers-based quest. The Bad Habit is equipped to deal with MOST things it's going to run into right now, as you guys progress, you're gonna want to upgrade stuff in order to meet various challenges.

There were three different "flights", or generations of the Oberon-class, with the Bad Habit being a gen 1. It is actually closer to 70 years old. Some of the gen 3's are still in use with militia units in the boonies, as they are very much a jack of all stats.

The Bad Habit hasn't been changed much since it was retired some 30 years ago, though many of its systems were built to last.

You guys will definitely get options to modify the ship as they come, and you'll get multiple options depending on what part you modify. You can specialize the ship in whatever way you want. And who knows? You might even get to upgrade to something newer and fancier if the time comes and you feel like it.

Also, any time you guys want a detailed report of shit that either needs done or can be done to the ship, just go ask Cynthia.

>>731563
Upgrade Nummero Uno: Good seats for the bridge.

Btw wood in spaceship... Pretty extravagant?

>>731592
It's like that 1970's retro Not!Wood paneling. If you took a saw to it, you'd see that it's actually a paper-thin sheet of wood over vinyl.

It was fancy back in the day, but it's extremely dated by the time this quest takes place. Also most of it is discolored and scuffed to shit.

Now I really gotta get to bed, I've been up for 36 hours straight.

>>731494
I also go for this option.

>>731596
Thanks for running!

What species belongs VirgoAntoninusstrasse 38 to? When was the first contact between humans and Virgos species and how happened it?

>>731537
I'd like some history on the war. Because one of your posts makes it look like the Empire was the aggressor, while another says they were on the defensive.

Also Gene seems pretty chill with the fact that the Empire subjugated some of the Federation planets.

>>731753
I could just imagine, a kind of "Space: Above and Beyond" situation where each faction blames the other for attacking first (or like ww2: "Since 5:45 a.m. we have been returning the fire").

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>>731596
Good explanation!

Next job idea: Get some passengers for extra cash - surely the public spacetransport has some gaps we could fill.

>>731492
>”Fair enough, you’ll get some leave to go shopping. I can’t say how much until we get there though.”
The Captain has to ok dresses, of course. :)

>>731753
So basically here's how the war went:
>Empire peacefully gains independence from Federation maybe 150 years ago.
>Empire and Federation both begin colonization outside of Solar System.
>Both factions begin having issues with each other about 50 years ago.
>Several small border skirmishes happen, not much comes of it.
>Finally, after the Federation lays claim to a large cluster of habitable planets within the Empire's zone of control, the Empire declares war and brings in military forces to safeguard the uncolonized planets.
>In the beginning, the Federation can't make any headway due to excellent Imperial defenses.
>Federation decides to attack Titan, the operation is a failure, massive casualties are sustained by both sides.
>Federation begins winning more victories in space, though the ground war is still incredibly bloody for both sides.
>The Abraxis Incident occurs.
>The Federation begins blockading the Empire's food farming colonies, starving their military and civil populace into near-submission.
>The Empire makes a last-ditch push and captures six major Federal colonies.
>Mars declares its independence from the Federation and founds the Coalition For Peace, they facilitate peace-talks.
>Armistice is signed on August 28, 2356.

The Empire didn't really subjugate any Federals, as any conquered colonies populations were given freedom to leave and immigrate to other Federal Colonies. Those who stayed did so pretty much voluntarily.
>>731732
Virgo is a Thulian. They hail from the planet Thalos, and though they are master spacefarers. they mostly keep to themselves. First contact with them was made around 80 years ago.

Anyhow, I'll be running really soon, within the next 30 minutes.

>>732018
Well a major colony is not just people, so Gene still seems a bit too chill for a former soldier

>>732025
>Gene
Beg your pardon? Do you mean Allen or Tom?

Either way, they both witnessed a war that was basically nothing but incompetent superiors fucking up and getting men killed for no reason.

And the only competent commanders ended up getting shuffled back to the rear echelons because they "didn't get results."

Plus they're not really that patriotic. There's a reason both of them left the Navy as soon as possible once the War ended. Basically, the War was just a pissing match to see which side could throw more soldiers into the meat grinder, and it ended with not much changing. Most veterans of the war felt pretty disillusioned by it. Basically, imagine the aftermath of WWI for the individual soldier; they felt like they had fought and died for no real reason.

>>732033
>Beg your pardon? Do you mean Allen or Tom?
Whoooooops >.>

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“Fair enough,” you say. “You’ll get your leave.” With that, Corrigan’s eyes light up. “However, I can’t say for sure how much leave you’ll get.”

“Thank you very much, sir.” She actually smiles, that’s new. “You are a very kind person,” she sounds like she is going to say more, but there is a knock at the door.

“Corrigan? I’m coming in,” you hear Cynthia’s voice on the other side as she opens the door and steps into the room, immediately noticing you, and more specifically, just how close Corrigan had leaned toward you while she was pleading for shore leave.

Cynthia stops dead in her tracks, eyes darting from you to your weapons officer. She turns almost purple as you try to open your mouth to explain. “I’m sorry!” She says. “I-if I’m interrupting something I’ll leave,” she stammers. She immediately turns on her heels to leave.

“Miss Cynthia?” Corrigan sounds even more confused than you feel right now. “The Captain and I were just discussing the CIC. Perhaps it would be good for you to sit with us and tell us your findings from the weapons themselves.” Cynthia stops in her tracks again, halfway through the doorway.

“Oh.” She exclaims and slaps her forehead. She then turns around. “My bad,” she continues, re-entering the room and sitting down next to Corrigan. “I tend to jump to conclusions sometimes.”

>Discuss the CIC.
>”What? Did you think I was having an affair with my weapons officer? I may work fast, but I’m not that fast.” (joke)
>”I was actually just leaving.”
>”Corrigan asked for some shore leave once we get to Mars, would you like to go with her?”

>>732110
>Discuss the CIC.
>”Corrigan asked for some shore leave once we get to Mars, would you like to go with her?”

Foster bonds between crewmembers.

>>732110
>Discuss the CIC
What can be dumped. What can be fixed. What can be upgraded. What can be replaced. What should be added. All that shit.

>>732137
Also this

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“So what did you find about our weapons?” You lean back in the chair, rubbing your eyes. You really need another cup of coffee.

“Well,” Cynthia begins. “I went down to the missile launch systems to see which cables go where. It turns out that they must’ve optimized the connections at some point, because most of the connections all go through three different lines. The rest of the lines going down there have been cut and sealed off.” She motions for Corrigan to give her the diagram, which she does. “We can remove everything except the Main Fire Control Computer, Target Data Computer, and the IFF System. Those are critical to our missiles working right.” She points to three machines right next to each other. “Here’s where those are. Now I’m thinking, if we can find a more advanced Fire Control panel for the bridge, we’d be able to automate most of these functions and route them directly to the bridge, but we’d need a control panel from a Flight 3 Oberon.” She hands the paper back to Corrigan. “So that’s where we’re at. I can clear out every other machine in there, but I’d need at least 24 hours to do it,” she frowns. “And we can’t be in space when I do it either, I’d need to be able to dispose of the machines properly. We can’t just throw them out the airlock.”

“So we’d need 24 hours at a dock for you to get those machines out?” You furrow your brow. “That’d be expensive.”

“Indeed,” she replies. “But the money we make from recycling the machines might pay for it. There are some valuable components in those machines. Copper, gold, cobalt, palladium…” She looks thoughtfully. “Anyway, that’s my input regarding the whole endeavor of removing the CIC. Anything else to add, sir?”

“Actually, yes,” you say. “Corrigan asked me for some shore-leave once we get to Mars, would you want to accompany her?” With that, Cynthia’s eyes light up.

“Really?” She then turns to Corrigan. “This is going to be awesome! Mars is probably the best place in the galaxy to have some shore-leave!” She turns to you. “How much time do we get?”

You shrug. “Don’t know yet,” you say. “It all depends on what happens when we get there.”

“Understood,” she nods at you. “If you’ll excuse me and Corrigan, we’ve got to go disconnect some of the old machines in the CIC.”

“Right,” you say. You follow both of them out of the stateroom, watching as they walk aft, leaving you standing alone in the hallway.

>Explore the ship. (you can specify where after the vote is locked-in)
>Visit a crew member.
>Head to your quarters for some rest.

>>732295
>Head to your quarters for some rest.
Nothing really needs our attention till some emergency or we arrive at our destination...

Is docking somewhere expensive? Like harbour fees?

When we dock, we should quickly look around for that needed control panel - besides passengers and more transport contracts.

Good that Cynthia goes with Corrigan... she seems naive in things outside her expertise, better not have her kidnapped or scammed on shore leave.

btw did we already start a company? Or just bought a starship and woosh, flew away?

>>732329
We're basically freelancers. Starting a trading company is prohibitively expensive in the Federation. Mainly because the Offworld Transit Union is the biggest lobby group in the Federation, and they don't like competition.

But they mostly take big contracts, leaving a large market for Freelancers to turn a profit. Not that they allowed it to happen out of the goodness of their hearts, they just didn't manage corner the market on small deliveries before the little guys had already overtaken it.

>>732295
>>Head to your quarters for some rest.

That Fleet Admiral sure did antagonise us, maybe on purpose? Will be fun to imagine his face, when we start trading with Imperials...

>>732344
>Offworld Transit Union
Our goal is to become a member? Monopoly ftw! (if we're part of the monopoly only, of course)

>>732295
>Head to your quarters for some rest.

>>732360
>Our goal is to become a member?
I mean, that's up to you guys. It'd mean following their regulations, and becoming a part of their highly-structured bureaucracy.

Also it'd mean removing your weapons. And firing Virgo. They have a strict no-aliens policy. To prevent "corporate espionage."

>>732344
Are there any other aliens than the Thulians? Is there any big alien civilization to be the China to the Empire and Federation's Europe? Or are all alien civilizations just small and out of the way?

>>732372
>[no] weapons >firing Virgo
Well, seems like it's not worth it for the Bad Habit's adventure crew.
>>732376
Human Masterrace! (expect our pals like Virgo)

>>732376
There are several known alien species.

Thulians, which are Virgo's people. They mostly keep to themselves, and have a low population due to low birthrates, but they live for like 900-1000 years.

Psirineans, who are basically space-elves. They have their home planet, as well as three or four colonies. Their culture is mostly a mystery to humans due to lack of major contact. And because I'm still trying to develop a unique culture for them.

Archeans are an insect-like race who have no natural lifespan and can theoretically live forever. Their culture is highly militaristic, but they mostly focus on defending the worlds that they already inhabit. They are also master craftsmen, and their machines are noted for their beauty and mechanical sophistication. They have about twelve colonies, plus their homeworld. They used to be much greater in numbers, but a plague wiped 80% of their population out and made a quarter of the remaining population sterile.

There are also a few others I'm planning on throwing in.

>>732407
Do those very long lifespans means that aliens have pretty extreme hobbies? After 200 years of paintball, some real rifle fights are probably more interesting... something like that?

Now, a pretty Psirinean is what our ship needs.

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You decide to go up to your quarters and get a bit of rest before arriving on Mars. After all, there will probably be much to do while you’re there.

You fall asleep pretty much as soon as your head hits the pillow. Normally you don’t dream, or at least you don’t remember your dreams. However, this is not one of those instances.

You wake up in your bunk aboard the Abraxis, the Federation’s newest Battlecruiser. The ready-alarm is sounding. You quickly dawn your flight jumper and run out of the pilots’ quarters to the main hangar bay. Something isn’t right, where are the rest of the crew?

You notice red footprints leading to the maintenance bay. Did somebody have hydraulic fluid on their boots? You kneel down and smell iron, feeling sick as your realize the footprints are in blood. Suddenly, you hear footsteps. You looks up with a smile, seeing your comrades.

But something’s wrong; they’re all too pale, and their eyes are glazed over. You notice they’re all wearing mourning ribbons, and their dress blues are soaked in blood. There is a rumble that shakes the floor as they start clapping, their lifeless faces contorting into huge grins.

You then begin hearing voices, three-thousand at once, all screaming out at you. It is deafening, you can’t think. Dropping to your knees, you feel tears stream down your face as the voices begin to speak in unison.

“YOU KILLED US.”

You awaken with a short scream, banging your head against the top of your bunk. Cold sweat drips down your forehead. You hear a knock at your cabin door.

Getting up with a groan, you walk over to the door and open it just enough to see Tom on the other side.

“We’re about ten minutes from Mars, captain.”

>Head to the bridge.
>”Give me a minute, Tom.”

>>732479
>>>Head to the bridge.
Work against nightmares, works every time... mostly.

>>732479
>>Head to the bridge.

>>732479
>”Give me a minute, Tom.”
>Spend the minute putting our head under a stream of cold water
>Head to the bridge.

The suspense of our Abraxis mission...
It's nice to read background info in this way (dream sequence).

>>732479
>Head to the bridge.
"Did someone make a pot of coffee?"

>>732577
"Cynthia! Cynthia! Coffee!" :)

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You open the door and walk out, shutting it behind you. Tom hands you a warm thermos of coffee. “Cynthia made some,” he says simply.

“Thanks,” you reply. You drink from it as you walk into the bridge and take your seat. You notice Corrigan glancing back worriedly at you from her station.

“You alright, Captain?” Tom takes his seat at the pilot’s station. “We thought we heard you yelling in your cabin.”

“It’s nothing,” you reply. “Just a bad dream.” With that, Tom nods and focuses on the controls, bringing the ship into low-Mars orbit. The planet has been terraformed for the past two hundred years, and it really shows.

“Well,” Tom says. “This is it. Mars.” You notice Corrigan leans over the console to get a better look at the planet. You don’t blame her. Just as Paris and New York had been the cultural centers of Earth in centuries passed, Mars is the cultural center of humanity. It is at the forefront of art, science, literature, music, and of course, fashion. You hear Tom speak over the radio with the port authority. “Yeah,” he says. “This is the Bad Habit, requesting docking clearance…” He pauses for a moment, likely waiting for clearance. “Really? Well I’ll have to consult with my captain, this is unexpected, please hold, over.”

He looks back at you. “Captain, they’re saying there’s already a dock waiting for us that’s been paid for.”

“Really?” You’re surprised to hear that. “For how long?”

“Thirty-six hours, sir.” Damn, whoever had paid for it must really have some cash to burn. “It’s in Olympus Mons.”

You stutter for a moment. Olympus Mons is the largest, most metropolitan city on the planet.

>”Well, take us in, then. No reason to waste a perfectly good dock space.”
>”I think we should find our own dock, no matter how expensive it might be.”
>”What do you suggest?”

>>732641
>>”Well, take us in, then. No reason to waste a perfectly good dock space.”
Prepare for coercion and business deals

>>732641
>>>”Well, take us in, then. No reason to waste a perfectly good dock space.”
We already have a patron?

Unload the Irrigation parts from our ship, get dosh, go on shore leave, woohoo!

Maybe some spy agency wants to hire the war hero?

Can we get some new but cheap seats for our bridge?

>>732747
If you look for them once you land. Mars has got just about everything.

>>732641
>”Well, take us in, then. No reason to waste a perfectly good dock space.”

>>732641

Well, take us in, then. No reason to waste a perfectly good dock space.
But try to find iut who paid for it

>>732641
>”Well, take us in, then. No reason to waste a perfectly good dock space.”

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“Go ahead and take us in,” you say. You figure that passing up a free dock space would be foolish, not to mention Cynthia and Corrigan would have a field day in Olympus Mons.

It takes maybe five minutes to descend through Mars’ atmosphere, which is still thinner than Earth’s, though much more breathable than it used to be.

The air traffic controllers guide your ship to the Olympus Spaceport, which is a massive, gleaming structure covered with stainless steel panels that seem to flow almost like water. The entire city gleams in the setting sun.

Tom pulls the ship deftly into port, and you feel the whole vessel shudder as your landing gear deploys. You and Tom go down to the cargo bay and assist the port authority with unloading the irrigation parts. Then you receive your pay, 4,000 Federal Standards, the main currency in the galaxy. Even the Empire uses it for trade with other factions.

“Excuse me,” one of the dock workers walks up to you as you prepare to go back aboard the ship and announce shore-leave. “I’ve got a message for Allen Starwind.”

“That’s me,” you reply. He hands you a note written on a somewhat expensive looking piece of stationery.


Captain Starwind,

I thought it’d be a nice gesture to pay for a dock space here in Olympus. I’m a local businessman, and I’d like to talk about an endeavor with you.

Feel free to meet me at the address on the back of this note. Or don’t, entirely your call.

-HK


You pocket the note and sigh, looking at just how out of place your ship looks in this city of gleaming steel and marble.

>Go announce shore-leave to your crew.
>Head over to the tourism office and get a few maps of the city for you and your crew.
>Go to the customs office and look at contracts.

>>732863
>>Go announce shore-leave to your crew.
Why do need actual maps when we have future Google maps?

>>732886
>He thinks we have nice things like that

Anon, Allen doesn't even have a personal communicator, let alone one that can run a map program. Those cost money, which he only just now has earned.

>>732863
>Tell whomever talked about deconstructing the machines in our ship to do it
>Go announce shore-leave to the rest of your crew.
>Go to the customs office and look at contracts.

>>732904
Wow, the future has really downgraded computer tech huh

Changing it to
>Head over to the tourism office and get a few maps of the city for you and your crew.

>>732915
>Wow, the future has really downgraded computer tech huh
The personal communicators most people have in the current year are actually quite sophisticated machines, they were just out of Allen's price range until recently.

Prior to buying the Bad Habit, he had the future equivalent of a prepaid flip-phone.

>>732934
I mean, modern smartphones can just open up google maps and get directions. Shame that future phones can't even do something like that

>>732966
He basically ran out of data and minutes on his old device, which is what would've allowed him to keep using it. Had he not spent his entire pension on a starship, he probably could've added more data.

>>732863
>>Go announce shore-leave to your crew.

>>732863
>Head over to the tourism office and get a few maps of the city for you and your crew.
>Go announce shore-leave to your crew.
"Have fun, people. Meet you all in the evening."
Let's go find that local businessman! He has loads of cash if he can casually pay our spaceport fees-

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You make your way over to the Tourism office first, picking up five city maps, one for each crew member and one for yourself. They show many different points of interest, as well as all the important shops in the city.

Next, you return to the Bad Habit, walking up the two flights of stairs and finding your crew in the wardroom eating dinner.

“Alight,” you say upon entering the room. “We’ve got this dock for three days. That means that you can go on shore leave.” You look over at Cynthia and Corrigan, who were both looking at a fashion magazine until you walked in. “Do you have enough time to tear the CIC down after your shore leave?” They both nod at you.

“Sir,” Corrigan speaks up. “I believe that with help from Mister Virgo, we could actually strip the CIC of all non-essentials within about two to four hours.” You look over to Virgo to see if he was even a part of this discussion, he merely nods in affirmation.

“Alright then,” you say. You set the maps on the table. “Go ahead and have some fun tonight. I’ll probably do some exploring myself.”

With that, your crew clears out of the wardroom, with the exception of Tom. “I’m gonna make sure the ship’s locked up before I leave, then I’ll probably just hang around close by, unless you need me to go someplace with you.”

>Go to the businessman’s address.
>Look in a used ship-parts store for some things for the Bad Habit.
>Find a store to get some things for your crew.
Also:
>Take Tom with you.
>Don’t take Tom with you.

>>733064
>Look in a used ship-parts store for some things for the Bad Habit.
>Take Tom with you

>>733064
>>>Look in a used ship-parts store for some things for the Bad Habit.
That control panel and better bridge seats would be nice.
>Take Tom with you.
Noone will steal our ship, it's a secure port.

>>733064
>>Look in a used ship-parts store for some things for the Bad Habit.
>Take Tom with you.

>>733064
>Go to the businessman’s address.
We need to know about the potential deals before we go to the store
>Take Tom with you.

>>733064
>Go to the businessman’s address.
>Don’t take Tom with you.
he guards the ship

>>733064
>>>Go to the businessman’s address.
Make some dosh!

>>733064

Look in a used ship-parts store for some things for the Bad Habit.
>Take Tom with you.

>>733106
>>733105
We can do this at night time once the shoping ia done ( get a drink at the same time)

3 votes for Businessman, 3 votes for parts store.

I will await a tie-breaker for ten minutes. If none is made, I'll roll a 1d2.

>>733122
I don't even think that the sequence of those things matter. The shops' probably still open no matter what we do first - flexible opening hours in space?

>>733139

Mybe i just want to get the shooping done in case talking with this guy wants us the leave or have shit to do that would take up most of our time (or someone crashes the party)

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Alrighty. 1 for Businessman, 2 for Parts Store. Let's see what happens.

File: Doorman.png (1.41 MB, 1920x1080)

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You decide it’d be best to visit the address on the back of the letter first. You check it and cross-reference the map, seeing that it’s apparently not far. “Tom,” you get his attention. “I’m going to head over to the office of this guy who paid for our dock. I think you should come along.”

Tom looks at you with a raised eyebrow, lighting a cigarette. “Eh? Sure, I guess.” The two of you leave the ship, making sure that it’s locked up first. You then exit the spaceport and hail a cab, giving the driver the address. “So who is this guy anyway?” Tom speaks up as you sit next to him.

“Good question,” you reply. “The letter just says he’s a businessman. It only has his initials.” You hand him the letter and he looks it over.

“Okay, Captain?” He looks at you worriedly. “This is shady as fuck. You sure you want to meet this guy?”

“Might as well,” you reply. “Maybe he’s got some high-paying contracts for us.” You stop speaking as the cabbie pulls up outside your destination, a tall office building.

The two of you walk up to the door, where a man in a black coat greets you. “Who are you here to see?” His voice is totally monotone, and honestly sounds more like a threat than a question.

“HK,” you reply simply. “He paid for my ship to dock here.”

“Right.” The man opens the door and you follow him inside. “This way.”

The three of you walk through a beautiful lobby to a series of elevators, taking the one furthest to the right. The elevator has gold trim inlayed between wooden panels, and classical music plays over a small speaker embedded in the ceiling.

“So who is this HK?” Tom speaks up. The man in the black coat glares back at him.

“A local businessman.” He finally says after close to a minute of silence. The rest of the ride up is equally quiet.

After about three minutes, the elevator reaches what you presume to be the top floor. The man guides both of you to a large set of wooden double-doors, which he stands next to.

“You may enter,” he says, nodding.

>”No thanks.” (leave)
>Enter.

>>733269

Enter
Also this is Shandy are we about to do an arms or druge run?

>>733269
>>Enter.

>>733269
>Enter.
>>733276
They gave us the option to not come, so if they wants us to do something they believe we will refuse I'd imagine they'll tell us which is the walk or commit part of the pitch.

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Hey guys, I'm gonna pause the session right here for now. I may run later tonight on a different computer, if not, I'll be running tomorrow at similar times as yesterday.

>>733349

Ok thanks man for runing
Time to meet the totaly not badguy to make some totally not blood or srug moneys to deack out the ship

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You nod to the man in the black coat, opening the doors and walking in with Tom in tow. You both find yourselves in a very well-appointed office with two couches in the center of the room, facing each other. Two men stand in the corners of the room, obviously guards. Your attention however, is drawn to a man sitting on one of the couches.

"Hey," he says casually. "How's it going? Come on in, have a seat." He motions to the couch in front of him. You and Tom both walk up and sit down on the couch. The man, who you guess to be HK, is dressed in a black suit with a white opera scarf draped over his shoulders. He wears a pair of sunglasses.

"So I assume you're HK?" You are the first to speak up after sitting down. He grins and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it.

"Yep," he replies. "That's what they call me. But you can call me Mr. Lowe if you like, that's my real name." He puts out a hand for you to shake. You shake his hand. "So I assume you're curious about why I asked to meet you." He leans back, taking a drag of his cigarette before flicking the ash into an ashtray. "I'm a man who provides security and insurance services, and I also deal in imports and exports."

"Meaning you run a protection racket and smuggle things?" Tom leans forward, his brow furrowed. At that, Mr. Lowe laughs.

"Sure," he replies. "Though the militias on New Albany are a protection racket too and you're supplying bullets to them. Farmers out there have to pay half of what they earn to the militias as 'taxes' or they get their farms burned down." He gets serious all of a sudden. "The only difference between me and them is that their extortion is endorsed by the Federation," he says almost sadly.

"So what do you want with us?" You decide to take hold of the conversation before Tom turns it into an argument.

"I wanted to do a couple of things actually," he says. "Firstly, I'd like to welcome you to Mars and give you my contact information. That way if you ever need some quick cash, you can give me a ring and I might be able to send some work along. I'd also like to go ahead and send along a job offer to you. Nothing illegal, I promise. But before I even give you the details, I've gotta ask, do you have passenger staterooms aboard your ship?"

>"Yeah."
>"I'm not interested."

>>734251
>>"Yeah."
>Not blockade running if we get pulled over though.

>>734251
>>"Yeah."

>>734251
>>"Yeah."

File: Here's the deal.jpg (26 KB, 600x250)

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"Yeah," you say. "We've got two passenger cabins aboard." You lean forward. "But just what's so special about your passenger that you'd personally contract a captain instead of just buying them a ticket aboard a liner somewhere?"

"Well," Lowe replies. "She's my little sister, so everything." He gestures to one of his men, who hands him an envelope. "You'd be getting two thousand Standards upon accepting the contact, and eight thousand upon her arrival on Ganymede."

"Ganymede?" You raise your eyebrows. "Why are you sending your little sister to Ganymede?" Lowe grins at you.

"Well, Captain, she wants to study under the Engineer Clans there. Her dream is to become a great engineer and solve the irrigation issues in the Northern Reaches of Mars, where standard equipment doesn't work, I guess." He hands you the envelope, you count two thousand Standards and your eyes widen. "I've read your military service record," he continues. "If there's anyone I'd trust with the job, it'd be you, Captain Starwind." He removes his sunglasses, looking at you with steel-colored eyes.

"So your sister wants to go to Ganymede?" Tom begins speaking now. "And you knew we'd be headed there..." Lowe looks over to Tom with raised eyebrows and a sly grin.

"Yeah," he replies. "Shipping manifests are public record, after all." He extends a hand. "So, what do you say, Captain?"

>Accept the job.
>Decline the job.

>>734583
>>Accept the job.

>>734583
>Accept the job.
Speaking of public record how hush hush was our visit and the purchase of our berthing slot? Just wondering the odds of someone putting things together if they knew where you wanted to send your sister.

>>734679
The slot was rented under Allen Starwind's name. There's no way to link it back to Lowe, he's smart like that.

>>734583
>>Accept the job.

>>734697
Figured something like that was the case. You don't get to be boss by having slip ups.

>>734583

Accept the job

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You reach out and shake the man's hand. "I'll take the job," you reply.

"Glad to hear it," Lowe says. "Her name is Sally. I'll have her go down to your ship tomorrow evening." With that, Lowe hands you the money and sees you out of the building personally. As the three of you walk out into the plaza in front of the building, Lowe hails a cab for you.

"Captain," he calls out to you as you go to enter the cab. "Just one more thing. I thought you should know, you were a real lifesaver on Dione." He pulls out a Federal Marine officer badge. "Hill 338, your support was the only thing that got my platoon out of there." With that, he salutes you and turns around, heading back into the building. You get into the cab with Tom.

"Who would've figured he was a Marine?" Tom speaks up as you close the door.

"Well," you reply. "It seems like I run into a lot of veterans. Might be my past always chasing me." With that, the both of you share a laugh. You remember the combat action on Dione, one of Saturn's moons, like it was yesterday. That was right before you were transferred to the Abraxis, back when you flew close air support.

The cabbie turns back to you, tipping his hat. "Where to, gents?"

>Head to a used ship parts store.
>Head to a mall to get things for your crew.
>Go back to the docks.

>>734854
>>Head to a used ship parts store.
Do we do this with Tom or should we bring Corrigan and Cynthia first?

>>734859
You can always go there to window shop tonight and drag them over tomorrow. They're probably still out doing girly stuff like buying clothes.

>>734854
>Head to a used ship parts store.

>>734854
>>Head to a used ship parts store.
Seats are a must. A happy crew means a well run ship. They'll like not bouncing around on plywood covered springs when we're in the shit, which we will be eventually.

>>734854
>Head to a used ship parts store.
Get some comfy chairs.

File: 1441923134362.gif (1.99 MB, 448x252)

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Hey guys.

I really hate to pause it here for the night, but some things have come up. I'll be running from 6:00 PM EST to 1:00 AM EST tomorrow.

>>734583
>Accept the job

>>734999

Thanks man
Should see you tomorrow

>>734885
Seconding comfy chairs, we just got a lot of dosh. Get leather.

>>734854
>Head to a used ship parts store.

>>734854
>Head to a used ship parts store.
Prepare to evade aggressive pursuers in space.

>>734854
>Head to a used ship parts store.
To be honest, if it was possible I wouldhave have voted for mobility upgrades. Engine&reactor upgrades for better ones. Although electronics upgrades are fine too.

>captcha is Carrier LBOA
Drone fighters from converted cargo bays ?

>>736620
I think those might be a little more expensive than new seats and a set of tables for the mess, though. We'll get on that when we have some serious dosh at the end of this whole thing

>>734999
Thanks for writing!

Looking forward to some affordable ship upgrades, like >>734885's chairs.

>>737103
>new seats and a set of tables for the mess
Sounds good too!

>>737103
>>737174
The Wardroom, which is basically the mess hall, has the bench built into the wall, and the tables and chairs are bolted to the floor. You'd have to reconfigure the room entirely if you wanted better ones.

And all the stuff for a new wardroom would get expensive pretty quickly.

>>737255
Let's buy a used game console to kill time during flight

>>737265
>kill time during flight
They can train their skills if they have too much time on their hands! Work Harder, Crew!

>>737255
>get expensive pretty quickly
Argh, expensive? Then, no! Only cheap stuff for us for now! The next stop, we probably have to pay port fees ourselves, so we have to save some...

>>737364
Do you want one night to find Tom playing Civ 20 on the nav computer because we were too stingy? Do you anon?

>>737397
Don't want them playing an rpg where they play a spaceship crew using in-game mini games to stave off boredom... that's like duh.

Big reveal about "Sally": She's an illegal clone of Lowe's dead sister, who can't board space liners because of dna scanners, but she doesn't know that, big drama follows.

>>737665
Nope. She's not a clone or anything. I promise.

It's very possible that she is hiding something though.

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>>737665
But clones are complete genetic copies of a person, and if she remembers being his sister so well that even she isn't aware of being a copy, then how does anybody think she's not a real person?

Now a synthetic humanoid on the other hand...

>>737715
'Cause there's a death certificate for his sister and everything. Cloning is a mess on the legal front.

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You look at your map and find the nearest used-parts store with good reviews. It's across town, near what used to be the Military District before the CFP Moved their patrol force to Ceres. You instruct the cabbie to head to the location, and within fifteen minutes, you and Tom are standing in front of an old starship hangar from the 2200's.

The building looks abandoned, but you notice that the barbed wire fence leads to a gate, which is wide open. The both of you walk through the gate and into the boneyard in front of the hangar, where you notice several smaller, one-seater starships in various states of disassembly stacked on top of one another. Most of them are old fighters from before the War, though you notice one that looks almost identical to the one you and Tom used to fly.

"Check that out," you point to it. "It's an old V-850."

"How about that," Tom says as he walks over to the rusting frame. "It's the K-model, but it looks pretty damn similar to ours." He kneels down to read the ID tag. "Looks like it was stationed aboard the Tallon when it got retired. Guess it got scrapped instead of being marked for resale." He looks aft, and so do you. "That explains it," he points out. "The engine mounting points are cracked." He points to a poorly-welded coupling that would've held the engine in place. "Can't do a damn thing with it once the coupling has been damaged."

The two of you continue toward the hangar, walking through the side door, which has a small 'OPEN' sign over it. The inside of the hangar has been altered, as the two of you stand in a small room with a counter, with various old parts scattered everywhere. However, there is no clerk in sight.

You walk up to the counter and notice a small bell next to the register. You ring it, then you here a short yelp and a crash of metal somewhere in the back. "Ouch... Dammit!" A girl's voice calls out from where the crash occurred. "Uh... Just give me a sec. I'll be right with you!" You and Tom exchange worried glances.

>"Do you need some help?"
>Wait silently.
>"We can come back later if now's a bad time."
>(to Tom) "Well, this place is a damn circus."

>>738083
>>"Do you need some help?"

>>738083
>>>"Do you need some help?"
Gallant hero arrives!

>>738083
>>(to Tom) "Well, this place is a damn circus."

>>738083
>>"Do you need some help?"

>>738122
trying to beat down prices already?

>>738083
> want some help~?

>>738083
>(to Tom) "Well, this place is a damn circus. I like it!"
>"Do you need some help?"

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"Uh..." You lean over the counter, peering into the main area of the hangar, where you see mountains of various parts. "Do you need some help?" You raise your voice a little so that whoever is back there can hear you properly. You realize that many of the mountains are actually just shelves that have been so densely loaded with things that they've ceased to become shelves.

"Nah," you hear a reply. "I'm good. Really." There's another crash. "Gah! Nothing's going right today!" With that, a teenage girl in an orange mechanic's jumpsuit walks out from behind one pile, nursing an already-growing bruise on her forehead. She walks up behind the counter, smiling, then removes a welding mask that is currently resting on her head, carelessly throwing it into a bin that appears to be filled with similar masks. "Welcome to the East Olympus Repurposed Supply Company! I'm Allie!" She wipes her forehead gently. "What can we do for you today?" She takes a breath, waiting for you to speak.

You glance at Tom who seems just as surprised as you. She's maybe sixteen, definitely not old enough to be running a starship parts store, especially one in the rougher part of Olympus Mons. Though she at least seems confident enough, even if she might be accident prone.

>"Do you own this place?"
>"Yeah, I'm here to browse some parts."
>"I've got a generation 1 Oberon that needs new flash-condenser overcoils and blast ratio couplings." (test her)
>"You seem a little bit young to be in this business." (condescending)

>>738278
> I'm looking for a new chair. My current one is not sufficiently captainy.

>>738278
>>"Yeah, I'm here to browse some parts."

>>738303
>>738330
I'm gonna wait ten more minutes to see if we get any more votes, if not, I'll combine these two. Sound good?

>>738278
>>"I've got a generation 1 Oberon that needs new flash-condenser overcoils and blast ratio couplings." (test her)

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(OOC: You guys have 6,000 Standards. Spend wisely.)

"I'd like to browse your inventory, if I can," you reply. "I'm in the market for some things to update my ship." With that, Allie gets up from the counter and stretches.

"Sure, follow me." With that, she begins walking back into the inventory area with you and Tom following. She makes a sweeping movement of her arm, emphasizing the size of the hangar. It's a lot larger than it looked from the front room, with just about everything for starships that you could imagine. Everything from landing gear, to weapons, to inter decorations. "We've got just about everything in this place. Most of it is organized by either starship class or part type." She looks back at you. "What kind of ship do you have?"

"It's a first-gen Oberon," you reply. "Just bought it a few days ago." She crosses her arms and nods thoughtfully.

"Those gen 1's are good ships," she says with reverence. "Lots of people give em' shit for being old and uncomfortable, but they'll get you wherever you need to go. Those old thorium reactors are tough as nails. I'll never understand why they switched to posidium. Don't get me wrong, they're much quicker and more high-output, but their service lives are garbage..." She catches herself, snapping her fingers and pointing enthusiastically at you. "But enough of that. You came here for parts, not a lecture on reactors. Now, I've got plenty of original parts for those old Oberons, but I've got some aftermarket stuff too. What in particular are you looking for?"

>"Seats for the bridge. Nice ones preferably."
>"I'd like to see about getting a fire-control panel from a flight 3 so that I can do something else with the CIC."
>"I'm mostly window shopping right now. I'll need to bring my chief engineer along to actually tell me everything I need."
>"You certainly know a lot about Oberons."

>>738693
>"I'm mostly window shopping right now. I'll need to bring my chief engineer along to actually tell me everything I need."
>"Seats for the bridge. Nice ones preferably."

>>738693
> new seats
> fire control panel
Might as well ask after that in case it is cheap

>>738693
>"Seats for the bridge. Nice ones preferably."
>"I'm mostly window shopping right now. I'll need to bring my chief engineer along to actually tell me everything I need."

>>738693
>"Seats for the bridge. Nice ones preferably."
No argument from the crew I'd imagine.
>"I'm mostly window shopping right now. I'll need to bring my chief engineer along to actually tell me everything I need."

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"Well," you say thoughtfully. "I'll need to get my chief engineer before I can do any serious browsing, so I'm mostly window shopping tonight." You see Allie deflate a little upon hearing that. "However," you continue. "I know for sure that the bridge needs some new chairs." You and Tom exchange a glance. "The ones we have just aren't going to cut it."

The girl in front of you immediately perks up again, walking quickly toward a specific aisle. "Follow me then!" You'd have to admit, for a teenager, she can walk pretty fast. "We've got all sorts of chairs." She immediately points to a shelf with several sets of chairs, as well as some large, sealed cardboard boxes. "We have the stock military seats, obviously," she says, pointing to a set of familiar-looking ones. "Then we've got seats from the flight 3, where they upgraded the internals for greater comfort," she points to a set of larger, more comfortable looking chairs.

"What kind of aftermarket seats do you have?" Tom speaks up. Immediately, Allie directs the both of you to the cardboard boxes.

"We've got generic and luxury aftermarket seats. Also, we have seats from other starships that'll fit your ship's mounting points," she says. She then leans against the shelf, seemingly out of breath. "So, which ones would you like to see?"

>"Let's look at the stock ones."
>"Could we see the flight 3 seats?"
>"I'd like to have a look at the generic aftermarket ones."
>"Luxury is good. Let's look at those seats."
>"What's this about seats from other starships?"

>>738973
>>"Could we see the flight 3 seats?"

>>738973
>>"Could we see the flight 3 seats?"

>>738973
> let's look at the luxury ones
And not be able to afford them

>>738973
>Look at all of them and compare

>>738973
>"Luxury is good. Let's look at those seats."
>"Could we see the flight 3 seats?"

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You point to the larger ones on the second shelf from the floor. "Could we see the flight 3 seats?" With that, Allie nods and goes over to the shelf.

She immediately stands on her tiptoes to reach the seats better, grunting as she struggles to move them. "Here," hear Tom speak up as he walks over and helps her lift it from the shelf. He is easily two feet taller than her, and you're certain he's stronger.

"Thanks," Allie groans as the two of them move the seat from the shelf to the floor. You notice Tom struggling with it too.

"That's pretty damn heavy," he says finally, wiping his brow. He then looks at Allie. "There's no way you run this place by yourself."

She looks away before speaking. "Well, it's my family's business, but right after the big war, the Red Flu hit..." She trails off. "Anyway, what happened to a lot of people happened to them. My older cousin owns the place now, and he'd be the one doing all of this heavy lifting if he wasn't out near Ceres delivering custom-order parts to the garrison there." She crosses her arms, grinning with pride. "So I've got to do everything around here until he gets back." She looks at Tom, then to you. "Anyway, this is it! These seats are some of my favorite military-issued ones ever made. They're comfortable, with memory-foam cushions, and their covers are made of this really nice wool pile material." She slaps the chair. "Just like flying a couch!"

You walk over to the chair and kneel down to get a better look. It's definitely nice, and when you press your hand into the cushion, no springs poke you. "These are really nice," you say. "How much will they be setting me back if I buy three?"

She looks apologetically at you. "Well... These are the last set of three we have, so they're a bit pricey. Still, they're cheaper than the luxury aftermarket ones." She frowns. "You'd be paying 2,400 Standards for the whole set.

>"I'll take them." (pay her)
>"What about the stock seats?"
>"I'd like to have a look at the generic aftermarket ones."
>"Luxury is good. Let's look at those seats."
>"What's this about seats from other starships?"

>>739248
>>"What about the stock seats?"
Costs more than a third of our budget, so hell no

>>739248
>>"What about the stock seats?"

>>739248
> I'll take them
You had me at flying couch! But seriously, we probably gonna be sitting in this seats often, they gotta be comfy!

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"Huh," is all you say. While the flight 3 seats aren't exactly unreasonably expensive, especially for starship seats, you'd like to look at cheaper options first. "Let's look at the stock seats." Allie nods at you and begins to walk back over to the shelf, but Tom puts up a hand to stop her.

"I've got this," he says simply. He then walks over to the shelf and picks up the olive drab chair. Instantly, you notice his knees shaking from the weight as he groans and gently brings it to the floor. There is a loud clang as the metal bottom of the chair makes contact with the concrete.

"I probably should've warned you..." Allie speaks up regretfully. "Those ones are really heavy." Tom waves her concern away.

"It's nothing," he replies. "I carried heavier stuff in the Navy." You squat down beside him and take a close look at the seat. It definitely reminds you of the seat from your fighter. And when you press your hand into the cushion, you feel the springs pressing against the thin, foam pad. You then press your hand into the backrest, feeling the metal of the seat's supports behind the foam, no springs whatsoever.

While it is certainly better than plywood over springs, it isn't much better. "How much are these?" You look over to Allie.

"The full set of three will set you back 1,500 Standards," she says.

>"I'll take them." (pay her)
>"Actually, let's get the flight 3 seats..." (buy the flight 3 seats)
>"I'd like to have a look at the generic aftermarket ones."
>"Luxury is good. Let's look at those seats."
>"What's this about seats from other starships?"

>>739503
>>"I'd like to have a look at the generic aftermarket ones."

>>739503
>>"I'd like to have a look at the generic aftermarket ones."

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"Let's see the generic aftermarket ones," you say almost immediately. You aren't impressed by the original versions of the seats you already sit in.

"Right!" Allie nods and drags a box out from the bottom shelf, over to you. She then opens the back of it and yanks out a gray, cloth chair.

It isn't the most impressive thing you've ever seen, and you're pretty sure you see some stains on it. "Are these used?" You look up to Allie.

"Yeah," she says. "This set is the least damaged of the generic ones we have. Most of the rest of them either have rips, cigarette burns, exposed springs, and other bad stuff." She crosses her arms.

You do as you did with the other two, pressing your hand into the cushion. It has a thicker pad than the military one, but it's clearly just cheap foam, and you hear springs creak underneath the cushion. The fabric covering looks as though it used to have a pattern, corduroy probably, but years of use has flattened the fabric. There are some places where you can tell that the stitching is about to give.

However, it's not terrible, and it is worlds nicer than the flight 1. Though you're almost sure it smells like something you can't place... "How much for these?" You inquire to Allie, who looks thoughtfully at the seats.

"The lowest I can go on these is 2,000 Standards." She looks at you firmly. "Any lower, and I'd be losing money on them."

>"I'll take them." (buy them)
>"Let's go with the flight 1's." (buy the stock seats)
>"I think I'll go with the flight 3 seats." (buy the flight 3 seats)
>"Luxury is good. Let's look at those seats."
>"What's this about seats from other starships?"

>>739689
>>"Let's go with the flight 1's." (buy the stock seats)
Cheapness ho!

>>739689
>"I think I'll go with the flight 3 seats." (buy the flight 3 seats)
We will spend a not insignificant portion of our lives on these. Cash is tight so not ultralux stuff but do not cheap out.

>>739689
> flight 3 plz

>>739689
>>"I think I'll go with the flight 3 seats." (buy the flight 3 seats)

>>739689
>"I think I'll go with the flight 3 seats." (buy the flight 3 seats)

>>739959
>>"What was that all about?"

>>739959
>>"What was that all about?"

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"I'll take the flight 3 seats," you say, standing up. "They seem like the best value for what I'm paying."

Allie grins at you. "Good choice," she shakes your hand. Then you hand her the cash. "Let's get back to the front office so I can print off a receipt for 'ya." The three of you go to the front office after putting the other seats back in their respective places. She almost immediately puts the cash in the register and prints your receipt, handing the paper to you. "Where can I have these delivered to?"

"Olympus Spaceport," you say. "Dock 4." She looks at you with raised eyebrows.

"Pretty Ritzy, you boys wealthier than I had you pegged?" She jokes at you.

"Trust me," you reply. "We're just lucky. Not rich." You grin back at the girl.

She opens her mouth to reply, but the sound of a wall-mounted FTL communicator ringing interrupts the both of you. She picks up the receiver. "Hello?" There is a long silence as the smile disappears from her face. "W-what do you mean?" Another long silence. "No! Please, don't hurt him... I... I'll come up with the money somehow." You notice tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "Please just let me talk to him... No wait!" With that, you hear a faint dial tone come from the speaker.

Allie is silent, the receiver still in her hand.

>"What was that all about?"
>"Well, have a nice day!" (leave)

>>739974
> What was that all about.
Want a hand?

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>>739965
>>739968
I deleted the first version because I forgot my trip, the image, and there were some typos.

This girl's gonna cost us all of our money, isn't she.

>>739974
>>"What was that all about?"

>>739974
>>"What was that all about?"

>>739974

What was that all about
We help out and we ether get a discount on all the things we buy or you give us thise sets for free?

>>739974
>"What was that all about?"
Uh oh

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"What was that all about?" You look over to Allie, who has now begun to cry.

"S-someone's kidnapped him!" She begins sobbing uncontrollably, dropping the communicator and dropping onto the counter, burying her face in her arms.

"Who?" This time Tom joins in, putting a hand on the girls shoulder. "Tell us what they said on the phone." She looks up at the both of you.

"They..." She sniffles. "They said they were from the Blue Diamond Syndicate. They told me they kidnapped my cousin and they won't let him go unless they get a quarter of a million credits." She starts sobbing again. "What am I gonna do? I don't have that kind of money! We were barely making ends meet before. Now they've taken him!" She continues trying to speak and sob at the same time, but you can't make out what she's trying to say.

"Focus, Allie," Tom says gently. "Your cousin, what's his name?"

"H-his name's Sam. Sam Higgins..." She wipes her eyes. "But everyone just calls him Sammy."

"Did they give you a drop-off point for the money? An exchange location, anything like that?"

She calms down a little bit. "Yeah. They said they would meet me at the Olympia Club. On... On the top floor." She looks at the both of you with pleading eyes. "C-can you help me?"

"I have an idea," Tom replies sternly. "But I'll need to ask my Captain before I can do anything." He looks over at you. "Sir?"

>"Okay." (accept task)
>"This isn't any of our business, Tom." (decline task)

Don't you just love when you look everywhere for appropriate art of a specific character and don't find anything?

>>740301
>>"Okay." (accept task)

>>740301
>>"Okay." (accept task)
Have you tried "yuubari" "crying"?

>>740320
I did. Oddly enough, a bunch of Dark Souls stuff showed up.

>>740301
> Okay
Pretty poor ransoming tactics if the mark can't pay. Although I suppose she could liquidate the business.

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"Okay," you finally say. With that, Tom grabs you by the arm and brings you just out of earshot of the crying girl.

"Now sir," he begins. "I've heard of the Olympia Club. It's one of the fanciest nightclubs in this city." His voice drops to a whisper. "I'm thinking we can do this one of two ways: subtle, or not so subtle. Regardless, we'll need to head back to the Bad Habit to get some things from the armory. I say we do that, then head back here and pick her up, seeing as they'll be expecting her." His eyes narrow as he pulls out a cigarette. "Still, it's up to you how we do this. We either bring her and make them think it's gonna go according to plan, or we don't, and the jig will be up from the beginning. We'll plan it once we get back to the ship though. It'd be ideal if we involved her as little as possible in the nuts and bolts of this whole thing."

"Right," you reply. Tom then walks back over to Allie.

"Now Allie," he says. "Me and my Captain are going to go formulate a plan. Get the finer details down. Are you gonna be able to hold together?"

She nods. She has stopped crying, but looks like she's on the verge of starting again.

"So sir," Tom looks at you. "We gonna meet up back here and bring her, or do you want to just head straight there?"

>"We'll meet back here." (Allie tags along. You have a lower chance of being discovered.)
>"I say we go straight from the ship to the club." (Leave Allie. Greater chance of being discovered.)

>>740508
>"I say we go straight from the ship to the club." (Leave Allie. Greater chance of being discovered.)
Either way, the Syndicate's gonna find out that her brother is back with her and probably want to take revenge. This way at least they'd hate on us exclusively.

This is gonna bite us in the ass when their contacts on other planets come after us isn't it

>>740508
Guess I can support >>740520
They probably expect her to come alone anyway

>>740520
>This is gonna bite us in the ass when their contacts on other planets come after us isn't it
Possibly. Though possibly not. Allen has heard rumors that the Blue Diamond Syndicate is on the verge of imploding due to lack of money. They're just rumors though, so don't put any faith in them.

>>740508
>>"I say we go straight from the ship to the club." (Leave Allie. Greater chance of being discovered.)

>>740508

>"We'll meet back here." (Allie tags along. You have a lower chance of being discovered

I guse every one wants to be thown out of thr space port for gun fights and things

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>>740618
So long as we take precautions and don't get caught by the cops, then we're alright. It's not like they're omniscient and instantly know we're the ones that did it.

Guys.
Can't we, like, ask for cop support?
I mean, there must sitll be future police or local authority around, right?

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"I say we head straight there from the Bad Habit," you make the call. Tom merely nods, then looks over to Allie.

"Listen," he says. "We need you to hold tight here. We'll bring Sammy back to you." He puts a hand on her shoulder to reassure her.

"Okay. Thank you both so much," she replies.

With that, you and Tom are both out the door and into a cab headed for the docks. For the first ten minutes, Tom doesn't speak.

"Captain," he finally says. "Out of this entire situation, there's one specific thing that's been bugging me."

"Yeah?" You try not to sound sarcastic, the whole situation bugs the hell out of you.

"So Allie said that her cousin is out at Ceres delivering custom parts to the CFP garrison, right?" You nod in affirmation. "Well," he continues. "Ceres is currently halfway to the opposite side of the Solar System, its orbit isn't in sync with Mars'."

"I don't see what you're getting at," you reply bluntly. "You're the navigator here, not me."

"The only way he'd be able to get there without leaving the DMZ is by traveling slowly through the Asteroid Belt. That's easily a three week voyage." He shrugs at you. "I don't think the girl's lying, it's pretty easy to pick up on that sort of thing."

"So if it just doesn't add up, what are you thinking?"

"Simple, sir." He grins like a chess player who has just delivered a checkmate. "Sam Higgins never left Mars. Or at least he didn't go to Ceres."

"You mean he lied to her?" You raise your eyebrows.

"Just a theory, sir," Tom says as the cab pulls up to the dock where the Bad Habit sits. "Still, it makes sense, yeah?"

The both of you exit the cab and make your way aboard the Bad Habit. Despite it being somewhat late, nobody else has returned to the ship yet. Tom leads you passed the passenger staterooms and medbay to a heavy-looking door.

"Here we are, sir. The Armory."

>"Wait, do we even have anything in there? I was flat broke until today."
>"Let's rock and roll."
>"Hopefully things don't get too ugly tonight."
>Enter the Armory without speaking.

>>740728
The Blue Diamonds have a habit of killing hostages at the first sign of cops. I forgot to add that bit of info. Sorry.

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>>740746
>>"Wait, do we even have anything in there? I was flat broke until today."
Please be some power armor please be some power armor

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>>740769
Is that Green Arrow emerging from a suit of space power armor?

>>740746
>>"Wait, do we even have anything in there? I was flat broke until today."

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>>740845
No fucking clue mate. Old sci-fi art gets weird.

>>740746
Oh. Ok?
>"Wait, do we even have anything in there? I was flat broke until today."

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"Hang on," you interrupt. "Do we even have anything in there? I was flat broke until earlier today."

With that, Tom grins at you and opens the door. "Well sir," he says. He turns on a light and your jaw nearly hits the floor. "I fucking love guns."

There are rifle racks on either side, though sparsely stocked, with maybe six rifles present, the rifles themselves are some of the most widely sought-after in the world of professional mercenaries. You notice several sub-machineguns of varying make and model laying on the tables, and you see a pistol rack in the rear corner with around fifteen weapons in it.

"Not only did I keep my old issued rifle from the Marines," he says, picking up an older model that you're familiar with. "But I used my pension to build up a little collection as I moved from place to place." He motions for you to enter, and you do, still awestruck. "I've got rifles, assault rifles, machine pistols, SMGs, regular pistols, revolvers, hand grenades, flashbangs, gas grenades..." He looks back at you. "We're pretty well-stocked, sir."

You walk to the back of the room, where you notice two largish crates painted olive drab. They are labeled 'FEDERAL MARINE SOF ASSAULT KIT'. You kneel down and inspect the crates, expecting them to merely be repurposed, meaning that their labels wouldn't be correct anymore. There's no way he got his hands on actual MSOF assault kits.

"I'm saving those assault kits for later," Tom says. "You can't find 'em anymore." Tom walks over to you, handing you a low-profile holster designed to fit under a jacket covertly. "So sir," he continues. "We thinking subtle, or not so subtle for tonight's little party?"

>Subtle
>Not So Subtle

>>740996
>>Not So Subtle
Hope this doesn't turn out like the Real Folk Blues

>>740996
Also, shouldn't we tell the rest of our crew that we're going out to gun down the mafia? The possibility of death and/or maiming seems like something important to tell them.

>>741016
You'll get a chance to tell them. No worries.

>>740996
>Not So Subtle

File: Not my first rodeo, Captain.jpg (62 KB, 346x625)

62 KB JPG

"I never was fond of subtlety," you say. Tom grins.

"Well I guess I'll be the gray man watching your back then." He goes over to a locker and tosses you a tan trench coat. Yeah, this isn't even going to be a little bit subtle. "Here," he turns around carrying a grenade belt. "Most of them are stun or smoke grenades. The two on the back are thermobaric." He looks at you with a more serious expression than you're used to. "Don't use the thermobaric ones unless things really, really go tits-up." He then turns back around as you put on the trench coat and conceal the belt. He then produces a large machine pistol with a long stick magazine. "It's a nine millimeter. You've got 40 rounds. Try not to use them all if you can help it."

"Will do," you reply bluntly. He then hands you a sling to attach to the machine pistol, which you do. Then you bring it up under your right arm, inside the coat.

"Also, if you've still got your service pistol, bring it along. Use it first instead of the machine pistol if you can help it." Tom takes a moment to light a cigarette. "That's about as un-subtle as I'm willing to go with you, sir. We're gonna be walking into the top floor of the Olympus Club, so we shouldn't be treating it like it's the assault on Titan." He pulls out an automatic pistol and loads it, concealing it within his own jacket.

"Any other advice?"

"Only one more thing, sir." Tom looks at you with a totally blank expression. "Try not to get shot."

You bump fists with him. "You too."

Gonna pause the session for tonight!

I'll be running again tomorrow at around 5:00 PM EST. Hope to see everyone there.

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCABFcKfjhg

>>741106
Thanks for running Zap!

>>741099
Muahaha, gun fight in club, John-Wick-style!

And then chill two more days in the hangar? We still have to wait for our passenger - and maybe another transport job.