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You frown at the Major, unsure if this is the right time to bring this up. "I've heard rumors of people going missing around here under strange circumstances," you say. "Is there any truth to that?"

The Major raises an eyebrow at you. "Strange is certainly one way to put it," he replies. "People have been going missing for quite some time around here. Ever since the end of the War, really."

"And it's not the militias making people disappear?" Virgo speaks up.

"Not likely," the Major says simply. "The militias have conducted several manhunts after some of their people went missing in the same fashion. They wouldn't be making such a big deal out of finding a missing person if they were the ones making them disappear."

"So what kind of strange circumstances are we talking about?" You grimace at the confirmation that these events are indeed happening.

"Firstly, all the disappearances follow the same MO. They take place after dark, and they almost always happen to people who don't have many friends or family. People whose absence wouldn't be noticed right away." He sighs. "Other than that, my information on the subject is pretty limited."

"Sounds like quite a few people have gone missing if this has been happening for two years," Tom crosses his arms.

"Estimates put the number anywhere from the high hundreds, to around eight thousand," the Major says. "Lots of folks have gone missing at night, but some of those are likely not connected, so the estimates vary wildly. Plus this planet's law enforcement is a joke."

"And there's no speculation of who could be behind it?" You speak up next, frowning.

The Major chuckles. "There's plenty of speculation. The problem is that most of it is so out-there that you'd get laughed out of any respectable detective's office for mentioning it."

>"What do you think is happening? Surely you must have a hunch."
>"Well, I'll just be taking my pay and going then." (ends conversation)
>"So now that you've got rifles, how are you planning on getting ammunition?"
>Write-in.

>>1020010
>>"What do you think is happening? Surely you must have a hunch."
>"So now that you've got rifles, how are you planning on getting ammunition?"

>>1020010
>"What do you think is happening? Surely you must have a hunch."
>"So now that you've got rifles, how are you planning on getting ammunition? Other than taking it piecemeal off the webbing of dead militia men."

>>1020010
>"What do you think is happening? Surely you must have a hunch."

>>1020010
>"What do you think is happening? Surely you must have a hunch."

>>1020010
>"What do you think is happening? Surely you must have a hunch."
>"So now that you've got rifles, how are you planning on getting ammunition?"

>>1020010
> what do you think is happening?

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"So what do you think is happening?" You cross your arms. "You must have a hunch."

The Major frowns, nodding. "Could be related to the Telomere Corporation labs near the North Pole. They'd have to get genetic material from somewhere for their experiments, and with the bad press surrounding genetic engineering over the past couple of years, they might be running out of willing donors. It's not a perfect explanation, and there are a lot of things that still don't make sense, but it's the best I've been able to come up with." He shrugs.

"A genetic modification firm," Tom scowls. "I wasn't aware that one existed on this planet."

"They're pretty secretive," the Major affirms. "They only have around eighty employees."

"A small, secretive, genetic modification company on a planet where people are constantly going missing. It's certainly enough to raise some red flags," you nod. However, it's not a particularly useful piece of information to you right now, so you decide to change the subject. "Anyway, now that you've got rifles, where are you going to find ammunition?"

The Major grins at you. "The militias have small ammo dumps all over the place. The plan is to hit a few supply trucks on their way to them and get what we need that way."

>"What kinds of experiments does this Telomere Corporation do?"
>"Well, let's finish this deal." (ends conversation)
>"I wasn't aware that there was bad press surrounding genetic engineering."
>Write-in.

>>1020368
>>"What kinds of experiments does this Telomere Corporation do?"
>"I wasn't aware that there was bad press surrounding genetic engineering."

>>1020368
>"I wasn't aware that there was bad press surrounding genetic engineering."
>"Well, let's finish this deal." (ends conversation)

>>1020368
>"What kinds of experiments does this Telomere Corporation do?"

>>1020368
>"Well, let's finish this deal." (ends conversation)

>>1020368
> what kind of experiments so these pioneers of genetic science commit their lives to, bravely becoming pariahs for the betterment of humanity?
The pale, flexible, fast healing, spooky type?

>>1020368
>"What kinds of experiments does this Telomere Corporation do?"
I bet they do life extension modifications and such.

>"I wasn't aware that there was bad press surrounding genetic engineering."
obviously these kind of things are good targets. I don't think we need to ask this one.

"I wasn't aware that there was any bad press surrounding genetic engineering," you frown.

The Major nods. "It's not very high-profile, but a major gene mod firm was shut down on Earth right after the war. Allegedly they were conducting human experimentation for military applications." He grimaces. "But there's still a lot of secrecy and misinformation surrounding the whole thing."

"And what about this Telomere Corporation? Do you have any idea what kind of research they do?"

"Like I said, they keep that stuff pretty secret." The Major frowns. "But I've heard rumors that they're also doing experiments for the military. It would make sense to have the facility on an out-of-the-way world like New Albany if that were the case though."

"Makes sense," Tom nods. "Man, this planet is just full of bad happenings, isn't it?"

The Major grins widely. "Would you expect to find me anywhere else, McMurdo?" He then looks over at you, putting a hand in his pocket. "Anyway, Captain, here's thirty thousand for the rifles. I appreciate your patronage." He hands you a brick of cash.

You take the money, nodding. "Thanks."

>"So how are we getting back to the ship, Tom? It's probably an hours' walk to the docks." (address your transportation)
>Explore the warehouse and talk with the rebels.
>Talk with the Major about his military exploits.
>Write-in.

>>1020719
>Talk with the Major about his military exploits.
>"So how are we getting back to the ship, Tom? It's probably an hours' walk to the docks." (address your transportation)

>>1020719
>>"So how are we getting back to the ship, Tom? It's probably an hours' walk to the docks." (address your transportation)

>>1020719
>>1020719
> talk to major
Where we gonna ask him why he left that special forces thing that I can't remember?

>>1020719
>>"So how are we getting back to the ship, Tom? It's probably an hours' walk to the docks." (address your transportation)

>>1020758
The MSOF, that's it. And ask him politely.

>>1020719
>>"So how are we getting back to the ship, Tom? It's probably an hours' walk to the docks." (address your transportation)

>>1020719
>"So how are we getting back to the ship, Tom? It's probably an hours' walk to the docks." (address your transportation)

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You turn to Tom, frowning. "How are we getting back to the ship? It's easily an hours' walk."

Tom crosses his arms. "That could be a problem..."

"We've got transport squared away for you," the Major cuts in. "The reason why I couldn't send it in the first place was because the locals might recognize one of my men, but if you're driving it, it shouldn't be a problem."

Tom raises an eyebrow at the Major. "Okay, but what exactly is it?"

The Major gestures to the vehicle as the three of you enter a small garage on the side of the warehouse. "Here it is. A Grand Overland Light Truck Model 40." He glances back at you as you behold the vehicle in front of you.

It is one of the old general-purpose pickup trucks designed specifically for use in the Colonies. Grand Overland built so many of them that they are still a common sight on Frontier Worlds. Probably sixty years old, the Model 40 is covered in splotches of rust, and you can tell that the run-flat tires are indeed flat. "Does it run?" You raise an eyebrow at the Major.

"Course it runs," he nods. "This place used to be some kind of metalworking shop, so I'm assuming this was the shop truck. I've got no use for a truck this small, so I don't care what you do with it when you leave." He pops the hood and exposes the engine. "You've just got to give the injector a little tap before you start it." He smashes a wrench into the large fuel-injector sitting atop the engine. Then he walks around to the driver's seat and presses the ignition button. The truck fires to life with a small bang as some fire burps from the exhaust pipe, followed by some black smoke. "You can drive stick, right?"

You frown at him, taking a step toward the driver's seat. "Of course I can drive stick." However, you swallow nervously when you see four different shifting levers.

>"Well, let's head out."
>"I think we'll walk..."
>Stay and talk with the Major. (write-in)

>>1021113
>>"Well, let's head out."

>>1021113
>"Well, let's head out."
what could possibly go wrong?

>>1021113
> let's head fine
Fine, I'm sure Vigo wants to go so his thing anyway

>>1021113
>>"Well, let's head out."

[INSERT SEINFELD THEME HERE]

>>1021179
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_C70vDkYvqk

>>1021188
Thanks daddy

>>1021113
>"Well, let's head out."

File: MORE STOCK PHOTOS.jpg (1.12 MB, 3706x2470)

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"May as well get going," you say as you sit in the driver's seat. The Major steps away from the truck as Tom gets in beside you. Virgo grumbles, hopping into the bed and casually stretching out.

"Good seeing you again, McMurdo," the Major says. "And good meeting you, Captain." He manually opens the garage door and you grab the only shifter with markings on it, carefully putting the truck into first gear and taking off. You leave the rear window open so that Virgo can talk to you and Tom.

Aside from the truck stalling a couple times on the way back, it is a relatively uneventful drive. You eventually figure out that the other shifters apparently don't do anything, at least to the best of your knowledge. And you arrive at the docks rather quickly.

You put the truck in neutral and glance over at Tom. "It doesn't look like we were followed," you say.

"Yeah," he nods. "I guess the militias really don't have any idea that there's a group of rebels hiding right under their noses." He points to the ship, producing a key. "Anyway, I'll head aboard and let the girls know that we're back."

Tom hops out and gets the ship unlocked as you pull the truck up to the cargo loading ramp. You kill the engine and step out, glancing back at the rust bucket as you walk up to Tom.

"Well we've got enough space that we could fit the truck in the hold and still carry cargo," Tom begins. "I don't think we could get much for it if we tried to sell it, but it's up to you, sir."

"Allen," you hear Cynthia's voice as she descends the stairway into the cargo hold. "When we had the ship locked up, some people came by with a letter. I told them to leave it on the cargo ramp." She points to a small envelope that is wedged between two panels rather snugly. You walk over and pluck it from the panels, opening it.



Dear Mr. Starwind,

When I received word of a famous war hero visiting my city, I simply had to send this along to you. You see, I am holding a little get-together at my estate this evening. Most of the guests will be local businessmen and land owners, the typical guests at this sort of function. However, I would be most honored if you would attend as a special guest. I will be sending a car in around four hours, just before sunset. Feel free to tell the driver if you do not wish to attend. Formal wear is encouraged.

Regards,

Maria Sofia



You frown, looking over at Tom. "What is it?" He raises an eyebrow at you.

"An invitation to some kind of party," you frown.

"You planning on going?"

>Go to the party.
>Don't go to the party.

Also

>Keep the truck.
>Get rid of the truck.

>>1021420
>>Don't go to the party.
Nope. Getting off this planet.
>Get rid of the truck.
Why would we keep it.

>>1021420
>Go to the party.
>Keep the truck.
It could come in handy for when we need to deliver cargo.

>>1021420
>>Go to the party.
>Get rid of the truck.

>>1021420
>>Go to the party.
>Get rid of the truck.

>>1021431
>>1021440
>>1021443

But I thought we were delivering the guns then GTFOing.

>>1021420
>Go to the party.
>Keep the truck.

Okay. I'm interested, but after this we get out of here.

>>1021420
>Go to the party.
>Keep the truck.

I should explain something because I don't think I made it as clear as I intended in the story post:

There are a lot of places where you'll have to travel some decent distances planetside. The truck is basically going to allow you to avoid using public transit and/or renting a vehicle. However, it will come at the cost of only being able to take two pieces of cargo at a time instead of three.

>>1021488
Keep the truck, then. If we have some spare cash we can fix it up, I guess.
Don't go to the party. Let's get the fuck away from this hellhole.

>>1021488
Keep the truck, but I'm still not wanting to go to the SHIFTY AS FUCK party where there DEFINITELY WON'T BE AN ATTACK.

>>1021420
>Go to the party.
>Keep the truck.
Plot hook!

>>1021420
>Don't go to the party.
Fuck yes. Maybe she is connecting to one of the many plotilines playing out here.
>Keep the truck.
But only untill we can get something smaller and faster.

I wonder what the connection is between a famous war hero and us though? Maybe it is someone we know.

I'm gonna call it here for tonight. We'll be running tomorrow at around the same time. Unless a bunch of people vote in opposition throughout the night, it looks like we're going to a party!

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_GPxe91hWE

What do you think will happen at the party?

>>1021683
Death, destruction, fire, all that good shit.

>>1021683
Kidnappings

>>1021683
Someone will ask (or "ask") us to transport a vulnerable passenger off planet. Maybe their adopted little sister or some shit.

>>1021420
NO PARTY. After everything we've heard about this planet and you still want to go.

>>1021420
>Keep the truck

Free=good price

>Go to the party

Why? Because you can NEVER get in too deep. Balls out, guys, and pack a pistol.

Party, get kidnapped and tortured - to transfer ownership of the ship. We have to get our ship back. Revenge story begins.

Party, get drunk, wake up, don't remember last 24 hours, police arrests us for alleged murder. Did we do it or not? Mystery plot!

>>1021420
Uh, this >>1021588 is supposed to be a vote for DO go to the party, whoops.
> Go to the party

>>1021420
>DONT Go to the party.
Atleast ask the crew before doing this.

>Keep the truck.

>>1021420
>Go to the party.
>Keep the truck.

>>1021488

>Go to the party.
>Keep the truck

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"I might as well," you nod. You figure that if this party has some well-to-do citizens there, you might be able to glean some more information about the strange happenings around here. "Also, go ahead and park the truck in the cargo hold, we're taking it with us."

"Fair enough," Tom nods. You head up to your cabin and begin rifling through your dresser, looking for anything that could be considered formal.

After a while, you realize that your only proper formal wear is your dress blues. When you put them on, for the first time in almost two years you might add, you can't help but look in the mirror and think how sharp this uniform makes you look. The jacket still fits perfectly, though you must've lost a little weight since you left the Navy, since you have to draw your belt a couple holes tighter than before. For a moment, you consider taking your peaked cap out of its box and wearing it as well, but you feel like that's just a little bit too much.

You walk over to your desk and remove your campaign ribbons from their display rack, mounting them on the appropriate spot on your jacket. You then remove your dress blues and fold them up, heading into the bathroom immediately after.

You get a quick shower and shave, making sure you look presentable, then you put the uniform back on. It doesn't really feel right wearing your uniform, seeing as you're retired, but you've seen plenty of veterans wear their dress blues to social functions before. You quickly polish your boots, put on some cologne, then head down to the wardroom.

As you get a quick cup of coffee, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Captain?"

>Who is it?"

>>1024912
Cynthia

>>1024912
>>1024929
dis

>>1024912
>Knife Ears

>>1024912
Cynthia

>>1024912
> knife ears
Disregard greasy vanilla mechanic, acquire experienced space elf.

>>1024912
Solfrid

>>1025276
Sorry, but I was already pretty much done writing the update by the time you voted.

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You turn around, taking a sip of coffee. "Hey Cynthia," you reply.

She stands in the doorway leading to the crew staterooms, arms crossed. "I don't think I've ever seen you in uniform," she says. "You should wear it more often."

You shrug. "I never really get the chance to." You straighten your tie just a bit.

"So what's the occasion?" Cynthia takes a step toward you, looking at the various decorations and insignia on your jacket.

"Some kind of party," you reply. "That letter was an invitation. I guess my reputation kind of precedes me."

She frowns. "A party? Something formal, I assume?"

You nod. "That's what the letter said. And these are the only formal clothes I have."

Cynthia chuckles a little. "You should've said so when we were on Mars. We could've gone out and gotten you something a little less military."

"Yeah, and ended up spending a thousand credits on a suit," you balk. "I'll pick up something on a less expensive planet."

She points to an empty corner of your cluster of campaign ribbons. "It looks like something's missing," she says.

You frown, looking away. "Yeah, that's where my Abraxis Ribbon would go."

"Oh, right..." Cynthia trails off, seemingly looking for some other subject to talk about. She looks at your shoulder-boards. "You were a lieutenant, right?"

"Technically a Lieutenant-Commander," you admit. "But I got that promotion like a week before the Armistice."

"I see," she replies. "Say, since that party is probably some old-school deal with major pillars of the community there, it'd probably make sense for you to show up with somebody else." She crosses her arms. "I could go with you, if you want. If this planet is really as dicey as we've been led to believe, none of us should go anywhere alone anyway."

>"Sure."
>"Do you have anything formal to wear?"
>"Are you asking me out on a date, Cynthia?" (flirt)
>"I think you should stay here. I can take care of myself."
>Write-in.

>>1025307
>>"Do you have anything formal to wear?"

>>1025307
>"Do you have anything formal to wear?"
>"Are you asking me out on a date, Cynthia?" (flirt)

>>1025307
>"Sure."
>"Do you have anything formal to wear?"
>"Are you asking me out on a date, Cynthia?" (flirt)

>>1025307
>>"Sure."
>>"Are you asking me out on a date, Cynthia?" (flirt)
>>1025307

>>1025307
>Write-in.
We should take Tom, in case of a potential hostage situation.
Don't tell me the future isn't gay friendly!

>>1025376
We weren't technically allowed a plus one to begin with, might be faux pas to bring two. Just bring a small holdout, or maybe actually bring tom under an semi-official bodyguard position

>>1025394
Na, I think federation customs are close enough to RL earth that it would be totally normal to a thing with an invitation like that. Otherwise they wouldn't have described it as a get together with a cross section of the wealthy populace. If they are going to have secret backroom deals that will be done in the backroom away from the plus ones and other room fillers.

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"Are you asking me out on a date?" You raise an eyebrow.

Cynthia's cheeks go bright red at the suggestion. "W-what? No, I was just suggesting it because I thought it might not be safe to go alone!" She stutters a little at the end of her sentence. "I mean, I know Tom would probably be better at actually getting you out of a bad situation, but..."

You raise a hand to stop her. "I'll bring you along. It'll be good to get you out of the engine room for a while anyway." You chuckle a little bit. "I didn't expect you to get so flustered."

"I wasn't flustered," she frowns. "I was just taken off guard by your wild accusations." She crosses her arms.

You are about to say something else, but a thought hits you. "Wait, you do have formal clothes, right?"

Cynthia nods, just a tiny hint of red left on her cheeks. "I got a dress when we were on Mars. Corrigan talked me into it." She points back toward her stateroom. "Give me a little bit and I'll meet you out here. When is this party anyway?"

"The car should be here in around three-ish hours," you say. With that, Cynthia nods and heads into her stateroom.

You relax in one of the chairs in the wardroom as you wait, turning the TV on. It seems as though every news channel is focused on the same story. Grand Admiral Leander has been appointed as Supreme Commander of the Federal Armed Forces. Your jaw almost hits the floor as you read the headline. Supreme Commander is a position that hasn't been occupied since the end of the War. It basically gives Leander total control of the Federation. You see a feed of the man giving a speech to a massive crowd of people, all cheering, back on Earth. Well at least that solves the mystery of whether he's aboard the Geomancer or not. You swear to yourself and turn the TV off, sighing. It figures that someone like him would have ambitions to run the entire Federation.

As you finish your cup of coffee, you hear a door down the hall open and then close shortly after. And within about thirty seconds, Cynthia stands in front of you wearing a black dress that compliments her figure perfectly. Until now, you'd never really noticed how curvy she was. She also seems to be wearing a pair of eyeglasses. You've never seen her dressed like this before.

"How does it look?" She raises an eyebrow at you.

>"Expensive."
>"You look good."
>"I didn't know you wore glasses."
>"It's probably still raining outside. Do you have a jacket to wear over it?"
>"I'll have to get used to it. I've only seen you in casual clothes and gray coveralls before."
>"Are you going to be able to conceal a weapon?"
>Write-in.

>>1025733
>>1025733
>>"You look Beautiful."

>>1025733
>"You look good."

>>1025733
>>"You look good."
>>"I didn't know you wore glasses."

>>1025733
>"You look Beautiful."
HAHA, I'll support that.

>Grand Admiral Leander has been appointed as Supreme Commander of the Federal Armed Forces
Looks like there's a storm a coming!

>>1025733
>>"You look good."
>"I didn't know you wore glasses."

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You smile at her. “You look good,” you say.

“Thanks,” Cynthia replies. She adjusts her glasses.

“I wasn’t aware that you wore glasses,” you point to her.

She smiles a little bit. “I’m just a little bit nearsighted, so I don’t need then when I’m aboard the ship. I’ve only used them a few times since I got them.” She sits down across from you, stretching. “So we’ve got three hours. Any idea what we should do while we wait?”

“Well I was just watching TV in here while I waited on you,” you shrug. “There wasn’t anything that I wanted to see though. Only more bad news.”

Cynthia frowns. “Seems like there’s more than enough bad news to go around these days. I thought that once the War ended, maybe things would get better.” She sighs. “But it only seems to get bleaker.”

“Things will get better,” you say. “I mean, things can only be bad for so long, right?” You aren’t just saying it to her though, part of you feels like you need to say it to keep yourself sane sometimes. “Virgo once told me that the entire universe is made up of energy from a single source. The Thulians believe that everything in our universe is seeking balance, and that balance has to happen eventually.”

“I hope you’re right,” she replies.

“Well regardless,” you add. “No matter what’s happening out there, we’ve got the Bad Habit. We can go wherever we need to if things get too bad to handle.” You sigh, wanting to change the subject but not really knowing how.

“Well you two certainly look nice,” Virgo steps into the room. “Something important happening?”

Cynthia smiles. “We’re going to a party.”

Virgo nods, smiling knowingly. “I see. The uniform is a nice touch, sir.” He points to your dress blues. He then chuckles to himself as he goes to walk toward the staterooms. “Don’t get into any trouble, you two.” He then leaves the room.

>”Well I’m going to rest my eyes for a few minutes.” (timeskips to the car’s arrival, possible dream sequence)
>”Did you think to bring a weapon of some sort?”
>”I’m going to go do something real quick.” (specify action)
>”So me and Tom got a truck. Do you think you could take a look at it when we get back?”
>Write-in.

>>1025976
>>”So me and Tom got a truck. Do you think you could take a look at it when we get back?”

>>1025976
>>”Did you think to bring a weapon of some sort?”
>”So me and Tom got a truck. Do you think you could take a look at it when we get back?”

>>1025976
>>”Did you think to bring a weapon of some sort?”
>”So me and Tom got a truck. Do you think you could take a look at it when we get back?”

I think I'm going to call it here for tonight. I'll try to run earlier than I have been lately tomorrow. After tomorrow's session, I'll put up a new thread on Thursday and try to get back into the schedule I had going prior to December. I hate to call it after running a somewhat short session like this, but it seems like votes really drop off after midnight, and I want as many players to have input as possible.

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YVNSu5bqDUY

>>1026118
Night baws

>>1026118
Oh shit, a vote
>>1025976
>”So me and Tom got a truck. Do you think you could take a look at it when we get back?”

>>1026118
Sometimes I'm too lazy to vote.

>>1026118
Did you remember to archive?

>>1026277
You could do it for him. Just follow the proper tags and description formula.

>>1026277
>>1026286
I archive the old threads right before I make a new one. Which means I'll probably be archiving this one around Wednesday assuming nothing gets in the way of that.

>>1026118
>I want as many players to have input as possible
Does that mean there is serious business coming up?
nb4 the heads of the militia are hosting this party and since they are all together at the same place the geomancer (sekretly) commences orbital bombardment and back on earth Grand Poobah Leander anounces that the Empire was responsible because they were funding the rebellion and getting desperate. Then he declares war in retalliaton. And Tripe cries a single tear ;(

Thanks for running! Reading up now!

Hey everyone. Something came up, so I'm going to have to postpone the session until tomorrow. The plan is still to run starting in the early afternoon regardless.

File: Cynthia's gun.jpg (16 KB, 500x500)

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You look over at her. "Me and Tom got a truck," you say. "After we get back, do you think you could look at it?"

Cynthia sighs. "I saw it when you two arrived. Is it as rough as it looks and sounds?"

You shrug, smiling sheepishly. "Pretty much."

She rubs the bridge of her nose. "Well... It's definitely good that you got a truck, it'll come in handy eventually." She then raises an eyebrow at you. "But you just had to get one that looks like it hasn't seen the light of day in thirty years, didn't you?"

You shrug. "I mean, it was free."

Cynthia chuckles. "Good. Free is always good. I should be able to take an in-depth look at it when we get back." She crosses her arms. "Its systems are probably similar to most land hulks, only smaller."

You lean back, thinking of something else that might prove important later tonight. "Did you think to pack a weapon?"

Cynthia nods, sitting her purse on the table. She opens it and removes a .44 revolver, handing it to you. "What do you think?" She grins smugly as you examine the weapon.

It's old-school, like something a cop would've carried a long time ago. The blued finish is worn from age, and you can tell that it was certainly an expensive piece at one time. "Nice," you nod. "Still, a .44 magnum is a lot of gun. Have you fired it before?"

She nods as you hand the revolver back to her. "I got it when I started working at the repair shop back on Earth. You never know what kind of people might walk in the front door, so I wanted to be prepared, you know? I've put about thirty rounds through it at the range before." She puts the revolver back in her purse. "You bringing a weapon too?"

You pull your service pistol out from inside your jacket, showing it to her. "Of course. I never leave home without it."

"You think we'll run into trouble tonight?" Cynthia looks at you with an unsure expression as you holster your pistol.

>"Almost certainly."
>"Of course not."
>"Maybe. It never hurts to be prepared."
>Write-in.

>>1029461
>>"Maybe. It never hurts to be prepared."

>>1029461
>"Maybe. It never hurts to be prepared."
>better to have and not need it than...

>>1029461
>Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

>>1029461
>"Maybe. It never hurts to be prepared."

>>1029461
>>"Maybe. It never hurts to be prepared."

>>1029461
>"Maybe. It never hurts to be prepared."

she better do a one liner if she has to use it.

"Maybe," you frown. "It never hurts to be prepared regardless."

Cynthia nods at you. "I understand." She leans forward a little bit. "So what's the deal with this planet anyway? We've heard plenty of rumors. Have you gotten any real news as to what's going on here?"

"A whole lot of bad stuff," you reply. "The militias are apparently tin-star dictators, so a rebellion has sprung up. It looks like it's a full-blown civil war here."

Cynthia frowns. "I see. I also heard rumors of a Federal warship being stationed here."

"They're not rumors," you say. "A battlecruiser was sent here a couple of days ago. The same one that searched us on our way to Mars, actually."

"So the Federation is helping the militias put the rebellion down," Cynthia scowls.

"Not necessarily," you reply. "Nobody really knows whose side they're on. They haven't made any moves yet."

"Interesting," she says with a raised eyebrow. "They're hanging back and observing the situation. Probably to see which side would be most worth helping."

"That's kind of what I was thinking too," you nod. "I know somebody aboard the ship in question, and she's told me that they're keeping things secret from the crew."

Cynthia doesn't speak for a little bit, seemingly thinking about something. Finally, after a couple of minutes, she looks at you with a small grin. "So with everything that's going on around here, why'd you decide to go to this party anyway?"

>Write-in.

>>1029836
Connections and networking, and trying to glimpse tidbits of info.

>>1029836

"Well we're independent traders now, part and parcel with the job is maintaining connections and business relations. Plus an excuse to dress up is never a problem."

>>1029836
>The food... that and I figure it'll give us a chance to get a good read on the situation here in particular and the colonies in general without committing to anything. That and it never hurts to network a little.

I was against going to the party, but its not a terrible option everyone went with. Given general tropes though if they ask for people to congregate or listen to an announcement we need to leave, that's the classic murder/hostage/plot development time.

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>>1029881
Pic related

>>1029836

>*Grin* "Free food and booze, the chance to see you in a dress, and maybe, just maybe skullduggery and the chance of fistfights.

Seriously, though, some rich and powerful people will be there. When will another chance like this come along? I don't get to see you in a dress everyday."

"Free food and booze, for one thing." You grin. "Plus it's always good to try to network whenever we can, there might be some people there worth getting to know. And getting to see you in that dress is an added bonus."

Cynthia blushes just a tiny bit, grinning. "You know, you weren't this smooth before you joined the Navy." She adjusts her glasses and chuckles. "But I do agree with the networking bit. You never know who we might meet there, and it's always good to have friends when you're in our line of work." She then raises an eyebrow at you, speaking in a warning tone. "But I seriously hope you don't plan on getting into any fistfights."

You laugh. "Don't worry. It's been at least two years since my last drunken brawl." Well, that's not entirely true, but you figure she doesn't need to know why you're banned by name from stepping foot on Europa. To be fair, you weren't drunk that time, so it doesn't really count.

"Say, what time is it?" Cynthia points to your wristwatch.

You look down at it, reading off the time. "We've got about two hours before we should be downstairs waiting for the car."

"Fair enough," she nods. "I'm going to head back to my quarters for a few minutes." She stands up, stretching.

"So we'll meet up back here in about one and a half hours," you say. "Sound good?"

Cynthia nods. "See you then." She then turns and walks down the hall to her stateroom.

>Stretch out on the bench and take a quick nap. (timeskip+possible dream sequence)
>Explore the ship.
>Visit a crew member. (specify)
>Head up to your quarters.
>Write-in.

>>1030164
>Stretch out on the bench and take a quick nap. (timeskip+possible dream sequence)

>>1030164
Do we have some means of communicating with the crew in case we need to gtfo in a hurry?

>>1030164
>>Write-in.
Plan contingencies with Tom, Virgil, and the Knifears.

>>1030164
Supporting >>1030305

>>1030305

Sounds like a plan

>>1030305
Don't forget the cute imp too

>>1030329
..... Corrigan?

>>1030347
Thats what I said

>>1030440
Corrigan best grill

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You decide that it would be best to plan for the worst, so you gather up the rest of your crew in the Wardroom. You stand in the middle of the room while Tom, Virgo, Corrigan, and Solfrid sit at the tables.

“Okay guys,” you begin. “So I’m headed to some sort of party tonight with Cynthia. I called all of you in here so that we could make some plans if things go south.”

Tom sits at one of the tables near the corner, cleaning a half-disassembled rifle. “Since they didn’t give an address, I’m thinking I’ll tail you guys in the truck so that we can learn where this place is.” He looks up at you, grimacing. “You’ve got that communicator on you, right?”

You nod. “I do,” you reply.

Virgo is the next to speak up. “This is a technique I learned from a guy who used to be part of the Thulian Armed Forces. Basically, if things go south, you just call the ship and sit the communicator down or put it in your pocket.” He crosses his arms. “The call itself is the signal that something’s gone wrong. We’ll be able to act as soon as we get the call.”

“That’s not a bad plan,” Tom agrees. “But what if things go south in a way we can’t expect? We should set up some kind of code. Maybe a certain word that means we need to go in guns blazing?”

Solfrid blurts out a single word. “Geronimo!”

The entire crew looks over at her as the petite Psirinean’s face goes red. “Beg your pardon?” Virgo raises an eyebrow.

Tom however, is grinning. “Good idea, Solfrid.” He then looks over at Virgo and Corrigan, who look confused. “It used to be the call to jump back when they still used paratroopers in wars.” He leans back. “So sir, all you have to do is say ‘Geronimo’ and we’ll show up with enough ordinance to level the place. Otherwise, we’ll recon the place first. Basically only use the code-word if there isn’t time for recon.”

You look over to the doorway to the staterooms to see Samantha standing there. She meekly raises a hand. “If you want, I could probably hack any communications from the location in question. That way we’ll know if they’re planning anything.”

>”How long have you been listening?”
>”We’ll listen in to their transmissions.”
>”Let’s just use the communicator and code-word.”
>”Let’s combine both plans.”
>Write-in.

>>1030962
>>”Let’s combine both plans.”
So exactly how much collateral damage will there be if we fire one of the Bad Habit's torpedoes at a city block?

>>1030974
At a city block? They probably have enough explosive force to level the block entirely.

>>1030962
>”Let’s combine both plans.”
Assuming no-one can back trace her wire tap. Might even get some fun gossip.

>>1030974
Heh, depends how sneaky we are.

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>>1030994
>We can't actually use the Bad Habit's weapons if things go south
Good to note

>>1030962
>>”Let’s combine both plans.”
She can call us and give us a heads up, or pass things off to Tom before he makes any advanced judgement calls.

>>1031004
Don't we have any other weapons on the ship, or was it just a torpedo boat/missile frigate.

Whats the total armament of the ship?

>>1031036
Just the anti-ship torpedoes and missiles

>>1031051
I suppose Tom could grab some battle rifle and be door gunner from the loading ramp while the bad habit flies overhead.

>>1031004
I mean, you COULD use the torpedoes. You'd just need to be sure that nothing you care about is in the danger zone.

>>1031036
The Bad Habit used to have a 14.5mm turret just aft of the bridge for defense. As of right now, the only shipboard weapons you have are torpedoes though. You could always see about adding some firepower if and when you get the ship renovated.

Also, it's going to be a while before I can set up my laptop to post more updates. I'm putting brake lines on a 1985 Pontiac Fiero.

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>>1031068
>You'd just need to be sure that nothing you care about is in the danger zone.
I'm more afraid of, you know, 'Rogue Starship Levels City Block, Nearby Battlecruiser in Pursuit'

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Alright, I'm back and covered in oil and brake fluid. I'll start writing the update here shortly.

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"We'll use both plans," you say with a nod. "Sam, you can listen to any communications, and if something seems off, you can let Tom know."

"Right," she says with a salute.

Tom raises an eyebrow. "You sure you want to do this, kid? You don't even know the full story of what's going on."

Samantha frowns. "It's the least I can do for the people who rescued me. Besides, I've heard the rumors about this planet, if it's really that dangerous out there, the Captain will need all the help he can get."

Tom begins putting the rifle back together, not looking up. "Good answer, Sam. Good answer." He finishes assembling the weapon and slaps a fresh magazine in, driving the charging handle home. "Well sir, I think we can make the plan work. As long as an all-out war doesn't happen there, we should be able to yank you out of any trouble you find yourself in."

Solfrid speaks up next. "Captain, if this place is so dangerous, why are you going?"

Tom chuckles. "Danger is the Captain's middle name."

You sigh, grinning slightly. "Well beyond that, it'll probably be good to get to know some locals. Do some networking and whatnot."

You are about to say more when you hear footsteps approaching the wardroom. You look over to see Cynthia standing in the doorway, looking confused. "What's all this about?"

>"This is an intervention, Cynthia." (joke)
>"Just a little meeting to let the crew know what's up."
>"We're coming up with an escape plan in case things go south on us."
>Write-in.

>>1031382
>>"We're coming up with an escape plan in case things go south on us."
We did promise to not keep her in the dark anymore

>>1031382
>>"This is an intervention, Cynthia." (joke)
>"We're coming up with an escape plan in case things go south on us."

>>1031382
>"We're coming up with an escape plan in case things go south on us."

Allen Starwind is a man of his word. We'll keep Cynthia in the loop

>>1031382
>"This is an intervention, Cynthia." (joke)
>"We're coming up with an escape plan in case things go south on us."

>>1031382
>"We're coming up with an escape plan for when things go south on us."
Oh, can we introduce ourselves as an important diplomat to everyone!?

>>1031426
They probably wouldn't care really, Reznor's Pride being a backwater, and it ain't like anybody cared in any of those moments we presented the badge

>>1031382
>>"We're coming up with an escape plan in case things go south on us."

"We're coming up with an escape plan," you say. "That way we can get out safely if things go sideways on us."

"Makes sense," Cynthia nods. "What's the plan?"

Tom speaks up next. "If things start going bad, the Captain calls the ship on his communicator. He doesn't have to say anything, the call will be enough to notify us. And if he says 'Geronimo' over the line, we roll in and knock the doors in with everything we've got." He points the rifle at the ceiling, aiming down the sights and adjusting them. "Also, Sam is going to be listening in on all communications from the place, so if she hears anything suspicious, she'll let us know."

"Well that's a relief," she says. "But hopefully we won't need it."

Virgo nods from his seat in the corner. "Agreed. This almost seems like too much. Don't get me wrong, it's good to be prepared, but this almost seems like we're looking for trouble. I highly doubt there will be some kind of attack at a party of wealthy socialites. They'll probably have some serious security there if they're even a little bit self-aware."

Tom frowns at Virgo. "We're not gearing up for war or anything, just hanging back in case something happens."

"That's true," Virgo concedes. "I just feel like the potential threat isn't going to be something that obvious. It'd be a little bit too on-the-nose for somebody to attack the big party."

"Well regardless, it's almost time to go," Cynthia defuses the situation. "You ready?"

>"Of course." (head downstairs and wait for the car.)
>"I have something else I need to do." (specify)

>>1031436
Thats kinda the point buddy.

>>1031515
>"Of course." (head downstairs and wait for the car.)

>>1031515
>>"Of course." (head downstairs and wait for the car.)

>>1031515
>"Of course." (head downstairs and wait for the car.)
Yes, party time!

>>1031515
>>"Of course." (head downstairs and wait for the car.)

>>1031515
>"Of course." (head downstairs and wait for the car.)
Make sure Allen says bye though.

>>1031515
>"Of course." (head downstairs and wait for the car.)

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"Of course," you say. Looking over to Tom, you nod. "Go ahead and get the truck ready so that you can tail us."

"Right." Tom heads downstairs immediately, slinging the rifle over his shoulder.

You look at the rest of your crew, noticing that Corrigan looks particularly worried. "Well, I'll see you all later." With that, you and Cynthia head downstairs. Interestingly enough, the rain has stopped by now, and you see the last bits of daylight fading away into one side of the sky.

Tom is already sitting in the driver's seat of the truck, which sits in the empty cargo hold. You notice that Cynthia takes a double take as she gets close to the truck. The two of you wait at the edge of the cargo ramp.

"I didn't realize that the truck was that rough," she says with a sigh. "Still, I can at least get it running correctly. Though it'll look the same."

The two of you idly chat for a while as you wait for the car to arrive. Within about half an hour, a beautiful, silver, self-driving car pulls up and honks twice. You first look over at Tom, who nods and starts the truck up, then you look over at Cynthia. "Looks like it's time to go," she says with a smile. The two of you head over and get into the car.

It is probably the most luxurious vehicle you've ever sat in. Wood trim, chrome, two bench seats facing each other, and a damn wine cooler in the door. You sit across from Cynthia, who stretches as she sits down. The car takes off, and you glance over your shoulder to see the truck following a good distance behind.

Cynthia looks around the exceedingly fancy interior of the car. "This sure is nice. I'm not exactly used to being pampered like this."

>"Me either."
>"Whoever this Maria Sofia person is, she must have a fortune."
>"Want a glass of wine?"
>"I'd be willing to pamper you any time~" (flirt)
>Get yourself a glass of wine.
>Write-in.

>>1031684
>>"Me either."
>>"Whoever this Maria Sofia person is, she must have a fortune."
>Get Cynthia and yourself a glass of wine.

>>1031684
>>"Me either."
>>"Whoever this Maria Sofia person is, she must have a fortune."
>>"Want a glass of wine?"

>>1031684
>"Want a glass of wine?"
>Get yourself a glass of wine.
Open bar.

>>1031689
>>1031703
>>1031718
I approve of all of this, just no more than a glass.

>>1031727
No, Allen Starwind, from this point on, will be completely shitfaced at all times.

I think I'm gonna call it here for tonight. I'll run tomorrow afternoon to finish up the thread, then I'll put the new thread up on either Thursday or Friday.

Mood Music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FM2dD80JVZc

What kind of person do you think Maria Sofia is?

>>1031766
Thanks for running.

(Duplicitous at the VERY LEAST. I expect spymaster-level.)

>>1031766
Somebody who will totally not assign us an innocent-looking job that is supposed to end with our deaths to hush things up

>>1031684
>"Me either."
>"Whoever this Maria Sofia person is, she must have a fortune."
>"Want a glass of wine?"

>>1031766
Not a person at all, but an AI that has achieved sentience and will ask us to smuggle it out.

>>1031766
>What kind of person do you think Maria Sofia is?
I want to say either A) Someone who is funding the militias and is one of the people behind everything B) Just Well established Merchant or the like that just wants business to go to the way it was or C) An Alien infiltrator that has taken the body of A or C for reason unknown.

Oh. And at some point we might have helped them without realizing it at one point.


>"Me either."
>"Whoever this Maria Sofia person is, she must have a fortune."
>"Want a glass of wine?"
>Get yourself a glass of wine.

>>1031841
The wine is laced.

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"Me either," you say as you open the wine cooler and remove a bottle. "You want a glass?"

"Sure," Cynthia replies. You retrieve two glasses from a small rack next to the cooler.

Looking at the label on the bottle, you see that it's a bottle of some expensive-looking brand from Earth. And your jaw drops as you see the date on the bottle, it's over eighty years old. You remove the cork and fill both glasses. "Whoever this Maria Sofia person is, she must be loaded." You sit the bottle back in the cooler and hand Cynthia her glass. As you raise your glass to hers, you notice that the car has turned onto a road leading out of the city.

You take a sip of the wine, which turns out to be pretty strong stuff, then glance over your shoulder to make sure Tom is still following in the truck. "Looks like the place is somewhere outside of town," Cynthia says exactly what you're thinking.

You glance out the window as the edges of town give way to the countryside. The road you're on takes you through rolling hills with clusters of trees. Looking off toward the horizon, you see the last bits of daylight slinking away into a murky, blue twilight.

You and Cynthia make small talk as you finish your glasses of wine. Deciding not to get another glass, you spend the next ten or so minutes looking out at the passing terrain as you are taken further from the city. "Oh wow," you hear Cynthia speak up after a few more minutes. Looking over, you instantly understand why. The car turns onto a long, winding drive that leads to a mansion on a hilltop.

The mansion itself is probably as old as the initial colony if you had to guess. It is made out of stone, with moss growing up one side. As the car makes its way up the driveway, you see Tom turn the truck around and head home. You figure that he doesn't want to draw too much attention to himself.

As the car pulls up in front of the manor, you and Cynthia exit and head toward the front doors. There are several people, all dressed formally, milling about outside. You can see through the open doorways that there are dozens of people in what you assume is the main parlor. As you both approach the doors, a military-looking man in a tuxedo approaches you. Despite it being well-concealed, you can make out the bulge of a submachine gun slung under his jacket.

"Sir, ma'am," he nods at the both of you. "If you're carrying any weapons, I'm afraid you'll need to hand them over to me. You'll get them back when you leave."

Cynthia glances at you for a moment. You can tell she's a little bit nervous.

>"I'm not carrying any weapons." (lie)
>"Okay." (hand over your service pistol)
>"What makes you think I'm carrying any weapons?"
>"I won't be giving up my gun." (refuse)
>"SMGs, huh? Security seems pretty tight for a party."
>Write-in.

>>1032654
>"Okay." (hand over your service pistol)
This means Cynthia's going to keep her gun, right?
I remember the party from House and Dominion. Don't think that'll work on my twice Zap.

>>1032663
>This means Cynthia's going to keep her gun, right?
That's entirely up to her, Anon.

>>1032654
>>"Okay." (hand over your service pistol)

>>1032654
>"Okay." (hand over your service pistol)
Say< I'm former military so I got my service pistol. Shes unarmed as you can see.
Then
>"SMGs, huh? Security seems pretty tight for a party."

They wouldn't search a lady would they?

>>1032709
Saying she's unarmed will tip them off that she is. The best way to keep something hidden is to not draw attention to it.

>>1032728
Should have typed that out more clearly as a comment, that latter part.

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"Sure. Let me get my service pistol." You frown, reaching into your jacket and grabbing your service pistol. You hand it over to the guard, who looks at it with a nod.

"Nice piece," he says as he sits it aside. "You two have a good evening." With that, he goes over and does the same procedure with another guest. You and Cynthia head inside without saying a word.

She leans in and whispers as the two of you enter the parlor. "I'm surprised that he didn't ask me after you handed your gun to him."

You nod. "Guess we got lucky. It looks like you'll be on-point if anything happens."

"Good to know," she says with a grimace. "Anyway, we should probably find someplace to sit. There are some tables over there." She points to a group of tables off in one corner. As you two begin walking over to the tables, a voice catches your attention.

"Ah, you must be Allen Starwind." You turn around to see a woman in an elegant dress, probably about your age, with raven hair and dark blue eyes. She smiles at you and Cynthia. "And what a charming wife you have."

When she says that, you feel your cheeks get just a little bit flushed, but before you can say anything, Cynthia speaks up. "Oh, we aren't married," she manages to perfectly mimic the fluttery, upper-class accent. "Allen and I work together."

"I see," the dark-haired woman nods, chuckling slightly. She then looks back to you. "Well you both certainly make for a dashing couple nonetheless. Allow me to welcome you both to my humble abode, I am Maria Sofia."

>"Nice to meet you, miss Sofia."
>"Security seems awful tight here tonight."
>"This manor must've cost a fortune. What exactly do you do for work?"
>"Where's the bar? I assume it's an open one?"
>"If you'll excuse us, we were looking for a place to sit."
>Write-in.

>>1032863
>>"Nice to meet you, miss Sofia."

>>1032863
>"Nice to meet you, miss Sofia."
>"Security seems awful tight here tonight."

>>1032863
>"Nice to meet you, miss Sofia."
>"Security seems awful tight here tonight."
Great now I remember FMA 2003.

Was the writer they got to finish up Hiromu's work for the anime suicidal or something? It was needlessly depressing.

>>1032903
The movie made it at least a little bit less depressing. Also it had Mustang blowing up Nazi tanks, which made my day when I saw it.

>>1032964
Yeah, the movie was good. Brotherhood's still better though. Hiromu's amazing.

>>1032863
>"Nice to meet you, miss Sofia."
>"Security seems awful tight here tonight."

Intro and conversation starter.

"Nice to meet you, miss Sofia," you shake her hand.

"Feel free to call me Maria," she smiles. "I normally try to avoid being overly formal, but sometimes one must keep up appearances." She looks out at the crowds in the parlor. "Truthfully I don't much enjoy the company of New Albany's social elite. They can be so dull at times."

She looks like she's about to say more when a man with a crew cut walks up to her. "Ma'am, Captain Weller has arrived."

She waves the man off. "Thank you, sergeant." He nods and returns to the crowds. You realize that there are probably a dozen men like him in the parlor, mingling with the crowds. Plainclothes security personnel. "Security seems tight," you say.

Maria nods at you, frowning. "One never can be too careful when hosting some of the most powerful people on the planet. Especially with these rebels about." She puts a hand over her mouth. "These hostilities break my heart, but I suppose that's what happens when people decide to break the law." She then sighs, seemingly collecting herself. "I'd never expected that you would wear your uniform here, it certainly goes along with my mental image of you though."

"Mental image?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Of course," she claps her hands together excitedly. "Allen Starwind, the ace who won three Combat Action Medals, as well as a survivor of the Abraxis Incident." You don't wince at the mention of it, you're used to strangers bringing it up. "You simply must let me introduce you to some of my guests."

>"As long as Cynthia can come along with us."
>"Sure."
>"I'm not intoxicated enough yet. Could you point me to the bar?"
>"I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I doubt your guests would like to meet me. I'm actually quite boring."
>Write-in.

>>1033077
>>"As long as Cynthia can come along with us."

>>1033077
> sure
Ask her if there is a particular reason for this get together.

>>1033077
>"As long as Cynthia can come along with us."
Not only is she our friend, she also has the only gun.

>>1033077
>"As long as Cynthia can come along with us."

>>1033077
>"As long as Cynthia can come along with us."
>"Sure."

I've got some errands to run. Be back in a while.

>>1033077
>>"As long as Cynthia can come along with us."
I mean, we brought her along, we're not going to leave her behind.
>(Joke) I doubt your guests would like to meet me, though, I'm actually quite boring.

You nod at Maria. "Only if Cynthia can come along with us. She is my guest, after all."

Maria chuckles at that. "Of course, of course," she latches onto your arm, pulling you along. "Now both of you, follow me."

You look back to see Cynthia following close behind, barely holding back a laugh at your expense. First, the three of you visit a group of local factory owners, who Maria describes as 'cartoonish'. You soon understand exactly what she meant when you see that all four of them are bald, with glasses and handlebar mustaches.

After that, she drags you to meet the commander of the Militia, a grim-looking man with a crude mechanical arm. He apparently commanded a starship during the War. You briefly talk with him about your own service, though you soon find that he's likely full of it, as he begins using terminology you've never even heard before.

You eventually find yourselves sitting down at the tables, with the crowds generally doing their own thing.

"So Cynthia," Maria says over the sound of the music now playing. "How did you end up meeting Mr. Starwind?"

Cynthia looks mischievously at you before speaking. "We've known each other for as long as I can remember. Though I only recently ended up working with him aboard our starship."

"Ah, childhood friends," Maria smiles. "That's quite a nice situation. I rarely keep in touch with friends from my childhood. We grew apart, it would seem." She then claps her hands together, as if bringing someone to attention. "I'm getting quite thirsty, would the two of you like some drinks?"

Cynthia shakes her head politely. "No thanks. I already had a glass of wine earlier, and I don't really like to drink on an empty stomach."

"Fair enough," she replies. "And what about you, Mr. Starwind, would you like something?"

>"A glass of whiskey, please."
>"The fanciest booze you've got."
>"No thanks. I don't feel like drinking."
>Write-in.

>>1033700
>>"A glass of whiskey, please."
SMASHED I TELL YOU, SMASHED

>>1033700
>"A glass of whiskey, please."
Batman.allmyfriendsaredead.jpg

>>1033700
>"A glass of whiskey, please."

>>1033700
>>"A glass of whiskey, please."

>>1033700
>"A glass of whiskey, please."
Wave over one of the passing serving staff with some finger food for Cynthia.

"Sure, I'll take a glass of whiskey, please."

Maria smiles warmly. "Very well, let me go get a glass and a bottle of our best stock."

After a few minutes, Maria returns with a bottle of 40 year-old Maker's Mark and a glass. She sets it down in front of you, then pours herself a glass of wine. You open the bottle and fill your glass, taking a sip as the three of you begin talking about the mansion.

>[unknown] GLASSES OF WHISKEY LATER:

"And, and, and, I tell you what," you point the bottle at Cynthia. "That's w-why I don't get political. One minute you're catching up with family at Thanksgiving, and, and, and, the next you're gettin thrown through a picture window because of who you voted for. It's a load of... Crap. That's what it is."

"That never happened," Maria hiccups at you, cheeks flushed from drinking as well.

"Oh, it happened," Cynthia giggles.

"Well, as much as I would like to keep drinking with you, I've got to go mingle with the other guests," Maria laughs. "You two have a pleasant rest of the evening."

You and Cynthia talk a little bit more as you begin to sober up a little. You're honestly not all that drunk, you just get silly as soon as you start drinking socially.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you like this, Allen."

You lean back. It's obvious, even through your drunkenness, that you've already had too much to drink. "Well savor it. I don't get this woozy under normal c-circumstances." You groan, feeling dizzy. "Oh, man. This is going to suck tomorrow morning. Why didn't you talk me out of this?"

Cynthia giggles again. "Because you're a grown man who should be able to keep his drinking under control."

>"That's no excuse. You should know I have poor self-control when there's whiskey involved."
>"Fair enough."
>"I'll bet if I eat something, I'll be able to sober up a little. Where's the food?"
>"I need to use the restroom. I'll be back in a few minutes."
>Write-in.

>>1033835
>>"I'll bet if I eat something, I'll be able to sober up a little. Where's the food?"

>>1033835
>>1033853
Also
>"But! That's no excuse. You should know I have poor self-control when there's whiskey involved."

>>1033835
>"That's no excuse. You should know I have poor self-control when there's whiskey involved."
>"I'll bet if I eat something, I'll be able to sober up a little. Where's the food?"

>>1033835
>"I'll bet if I eat something, I'll be able to sober up a little. Where's the food?"

>whisky please
>Maker's Mark
Oh, I see Maria has mastered the underhanded insult.

>>1033835
>"I'll bet if I eat something, I'll be able to sober up a little. Where's the food?"

>>1033835
>>"I'll bet if I eat something, I'll be able to sober up a little. Where's the food?"

You stand up uneasily, looking around. "Once I get some food in my stomach, I should be able to sober up a little. Where's the food at?"

Cynthia points to a buffet at one end of the parlor. You thank her and begin making your way through the crowds to get there. If you had to guess, you'd say there are probably close to a hundred people in the room now.

You grab a plate and get some food, mashed potatoes and some chicken. You go ahead and get Cynthia a plate of finger food too. Then you get yourself a non-alcoholic beverage and return to the table.

You immediately begin to feel better as you get your food down, the dizziness disappearing almost entirely. You and Cynthia talk for a while longer while she finishes up her meal.

"You know," she begins. "I'd honestly expected something bad to happen by now. We've probably been here for almost two hours."

"Well that's good," you say after finishing your drink. "I'm glad we didn't have to worry after all."

Cynthia laughs. "It's nice to be able to say I was worrying about nothing. Normally my worries always end up coming true when you're concerned."

"Well I did promise to avoid giving you a reason to worry." You smirk. "And as much as I like to live dangerously, I don't feel like incurring your wrath any more than I already have."

"Good answer," she says jokingly. "So what are we going to do now? This party doesn't show any signs of stopping soon."

>"Let's go talk to that militia commander."
>"I'm going to go find miss Sofia."
>"Let's go mingle with some of the other guests."
>"There's a Federal Navy officer in the crowd. I'm going to see if he knows anything about the Geomancer's mission."
>Write-in.

>>1034039
>>"Let's go mingle with some of the other guests."

>>1034039
>>"Let's go mingle with some of the other guests."
>>"There's a Federal Navy officer in the crowd. I'm going to see if he knows anything about the Geomancer's mission."

>>1034039
>"Let's go talk to that militia commander."
I wan't to hear him ranting about rebel scum.

Lets not ask about the geomancer unless they put us on a list.

Other things to do: ask around who is involved in shipping or manufacturing or producing, ask around as to what our host actually does.

>>1034039
>>"There's a Federal Navy officer in the crowd. I'm going to see if he knows anything about the Geomancer's mission."

>>1034092
Leander already has us on his shit list for harbouring an imperial spy. I don't think sticking our nose into classified fleet movements is a good idea.

You frown. "There's a Federal Navy officer in the crowd. I noticed his dress blues earlier. I'm going to go talk to him. Maybe get some information regarding the Geomancer's mission here."

Cynthia nods at you. "Mind if I stay here? I don't really feel like getting up close and personal with the crowds of people."

"I don't mind." You shrug and turn toward the crowd, looking for the officer. You spot him and immediately begin heading his way. He notices you, probably on account of your uniform, and waves to you. Almost immediately, you realize that he's a Marine, not a sailor.

"Evening, sir," he greets you with a courteous salute, which you return. You see that he's a captain, which would mean that he'd be about equal to your navy rank since they have different names for things.

"Evening," you reply. You shake his hand as you introduce yourself. "I'm Allen Starwind."

"Nice to meet you, sir. I'm Captain James Weller." He smiles warmly at you. Honestly, if not for his uniform, you wouldn't figure him to be a Marine, he looks too soft. And that frightens you for some reason.

"You stationed aboard the Geomancer?" You raise an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, sir. I'm the commander of the Shore Compliment. They sent me here to do a little bit of schmoozing with the local elites." He rolls his eyes. "Just seems like a bunch of useless pomp and circumstance to me though." He raises an eyebrow at you, adjusting his glasses. "I noticed you've got some ribbons from the War. You still active duty?"

>"Yeah." (lie)
>"I'm retired. I just didn't have any other formal clothes."
>"What can you tell me about your mission here?"
>Write-in.

>>1034287
>>"I'm retired. I just didn't have any other formal clothes."
>You know the Sargent?

>>1034287
>>"I'm retired. I just didn't have any other formal clothes."

>>1034287
>"I'm retired. I just didn't have any other formal clothes."
>Write-in.
"You guys here for any particular reason? It's not every day the Fed Navy allows a Battlecruiser to come this far out without a support group."

>>1034287
>>"I'm retired. I just didn't have any other formal clothes."

>>1034287
>"I'm retired. I just didn't have any other formal clothes."

>>1034287
Oh and ask him for advice on schmoozing. If he was assigned to this he must be a real pro!

"I'm retired," you say casually. "I just wore these because I didn't have any other formal clothes."

Weller smiles warmly at you. "That makes sense. I know a lot of guys who do the same thing." He crosses his arms. "So what are you here for?"

You chuckle. "Pretty much the same thing as you," you say. "Just networking with people." You look out at the crowds, easily spotting the security people. "So what's the deal with the Geomancer being posted here? It takes a lot for a battlecruiser to be deployed anywhere outside of the Core Worlds."

Weller nods. "You've got that right." He then scowls, glancing around the room. "And I'd sleep a lot better at night if they told me what our mission was. We're to be briefed on a need-to-know basis, and apparently me and my men don't need to know."

"That's pretty odd, isn't it?" Your eyebrows furrow.

"Very," he replies with a frown. "I'm no conspiracy nut, but I don't think it's solely about the ongoing hostilities between the militias and civvies." He glances over his shoulder again. "They wouldn't have sent a special-investigation team if we were just doing combat ops."

"You're kidding," you say. "They've sent detective MPs?"

"They sure did. About a dozen of them." He sighs. "If I had to guess..." He rubs the bridge of his nose, removing his glasses. "Look, I don't know if I should even be telling you this."

>"I don't expect you to risk your career, Captain. It's fine." (drop the subject)
>"Please. What you know could affect the safety of my crew."
>Write-in.

>>1034462
It's the disappearances around the planet isn't it?

>>1034462
>Talk about the disappearances

>>1034462
>>"I don't expect you to risk your career, Captain. It's fine." (drop the subject)
>TALK ABOUT OUR SARGENT

>>1034462
>"Please. What you know could affect the safety of my crew."
They are investigation ex-navy personal being involved in the rebellion?

>>1034462
>>1034479
>>1034493
I'll support talking about the Sergeant and the disappearances.

"Is it about the disappearances?" You look over at Weller, who removes his glasses and sighs.

"Partially," he begins. "All I've heard regarding it is speculation and rumors, but here's what I've been able to piece together. The disappearences are connected to this gene mod lab called Telomere."

"Yeah, I've heard similar stories," you nod.

The Captain puts up a hand to stop you. "It goes deeper. I've heard a rumor that a lot of the societal elites around here are connected to the place somehow. And there's one obvious link that connects it all." He grimaces, putting his glasses back on. "They're all friends of the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" You raise an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that there was a Telomere doctor around here."

Weller chuckles mirthlessly. "You're standing in her house. Doctor Maria Sofia." You feel a cold chill go up your spine. Weller puts a hand on your shoulder, seemingly sensing your unease. "Look, there's no definitive link between her and Telomere, but she's a genetic engineer, and she somehow amassed the funds to buy this mansion and the 4,000 acres it sits on." He shrugs. "It'd certainly raise red flags for me. But it's not my job to investigate, it's my job to schmooze."

You frown, taking in the new information. While it is enough to make you want to leave, you have an odd feeling that you'll find out more if you stick around a little longer. You peer through the crowds to see Cynthia still sitting at the table where you left her. "Tell me, Captain," you begin. "Do you know a sergeant by the name of Sarah Hendricks?"

Weller smirks at you, chuckling. "Of course I know the Sergeant. She's one of my best NCOs. Probably the only one under 30 that could throw me on my ass in hand-to-hand too."

"Really?" You chuckle at the thought of it. She certainly seems harmless enough to you. "Well could you tell her that Allen says hi?"

"Sure," the Captain nods. "Wait a second. Are you that war hero she talks about every now and then?"

You look away, smirking more from embarrassment than anything. "Yeah, that'd be me."

"Well how about that." He says. "I'll be sure to tell her you said hi." He nods toward tome wealthy-looking men. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go schmooze."

"Right," you nod. "See you."

"Later, sir." He waves over his shoulder as he walks away. You turn to walk toward Cynthia, deciding that it's time to get the hell out of here. But then something strange happens. You get an uncontrollable urge to find a restroom. You look nervously around the parlor for a doorway leading deeper into the house. You immediately make a b-line for the doorway, shoving through a small crowd of people. You're never that rude. What the hell?

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You enter the hallway, closing the door behind you as quickly as possible. Your breathing quickens as your eyes dart around the hallway. You need to find that bathroom, any room for a matter of fact. All you know is that you need to move. You begin walking down the hall, grabbing door handles erratically to see if they're locked. How long is this hallway? You lose count of how many doors you check.

Then, you feel your entire body go limp, as if a switch has been flipped. Almost as soon as it happens, two of the security guards seem to come out of nowhere, grabbing you by the arms to keep you from hitting the floor. "Jesus you're heavy," one of them grunts as they heft you down the hallway. You try to scream, try to fight back. But your body doesn't obey your commands. You manage to slur out part of a sentence. "Fuuuckin slipped me a mickey," you mumble. It isn't that you aren't able to form the sentence, but that your mouth refuses to move the way you want it to.

They drag you for some time, you're not sure how long. But they eventually deposit you into a dark room. You feel yourself hit cold stone hard, and you hear a single word. More of a sigh than an actual vocalization, there is no inflection to it, no masculinity or femininity. "Sleep," it says. And so you sleep.

You awaken with a start, only you aren't in a dark room. You're floating in outer space. Expecting to die from decompression, you shut your eyes tight and expel all of the air from your lungs as fast as possible. You stay like that for a long time, long enough that you begin to feel the veins in your neck bulge. Your heart begins to race as the instinct to inhale gets too strong to fight.

"You're not going to die if you inhale," an unamused voice says. "Calm down and open your eyes."

You do as the voice instructs, and you see the source of the voice.

>It's your mechanic, Cynthia.
>It's a woman you've never met. She's wearing some kind of body armor, and she carries a longbow. An archer of some sort?
>It's Warwick. Your first co-pilot, from the early days of the War.
>It's some un-knowable thing. You couldn't properly identify it if you tried.

>>1034608

>It's your mechanic, Cynthia.

>>1034608
>>It's Warwick. Your first co-pilot, from the early days of the War.

>>1034608
>It's Warwick. Your first co-pilot, from the early days of the War.

>>1034608
>It's some un-knowable thing. You couldn't properly identify it if you tried.
The starchild thingy from 2001.

>>1034608
>>It's Warwick. Your first co-pilot, from the early days of the War.

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Hey everyone. Just posting a quick update:
Of course when shit starts to get interesting, my Internet decides to stop working. I'm trying to fix it, but if I don't get it fixed tonight, I'll finish the thread tomorrow instead.

>>1034750
'S aight baws, I getchu. No problem, I can wait.

>>1034608
>It's Warwick. Your first co-pilot, from the early days of the War.

>>1034608
>It's Warwick. Your first co-pilot, from the early days of the War.

>>1034608
>It's a woman you've never met. She's wearing some kind of body armor, and she carries a longbow. An archer of some sort?

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Your eyes go wide as you see Warwick floating in front of you, sitting cross-legged. He is cleaning that antique bolt-action rifle of his. He looks up at you and raises an eyebrow. “You still haven’t inhaled,” he says.

You immediately draw breath, filling your lungs and getting lightheaded from the rush of oxygen. “W-Warwick?” You stutter as you catch your breath.

“Not exactly,” he says. “This is just the form you needed to see right now.” He works the bolt on the rifle a few times, grimacing. “Still feels like there’s something sticking…”

You frown. “Then if you’re not Warwick, who are you?”

Not-Warwick looks at you with the hint of a smile, grunting just loud enough to be heard. “Does it matter who I am? Maybe I’m just a figment of your imagination. Maybe I’m God.” He smirks. “Maybe I’m even the devil.” He chuckles for a moment, sitting the rifle aside. Your eyes widen as it dissipates into space. “The important thing is that I’m here to help you in any way I can.”

“And why would I need help from an imaginary replica of my old co-pilot?” You cross your arms.

Not-Warwick laughs, bringing a hand to his mouth. “Who says I’m imaginary?” He leans toward you. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m real enough.” He stretches tiredly, yawning. “Now, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’re in an exceedingly bad situation out there,” he points over his own shoulder with his thumb. “In the corporeal world, I mean.”

You frown. “Fair enough,” you nod. “So how exactly can you help me?”

The man in front of you smiles apologetically, and for a moment, you almost think that he could be the real Warwick. “Not much, unfortunately. It seems as though our time here is going to be rather limited. More so than I anticipated, anyway.” He frowns seriously and points at you. “We’ve got enough time for you to ask three questions, and for me to give you three answers. I can’t promise they’ll be answers you want to hear though.”

>What are your three questions?

>>1035778
Where am I? Who roofied me and why? Does my Crew know where I am?

>>1035778
What is your name?
What is your favorite color?
What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?

Who roofied me?
Are the rumors about Maria true?
Does Cynthia know where I am?

>>1035778

Is the Crew safe? Do they know where I am? Should I consider whomever I meet to be hostile?

>>1035778
Why waste on where am I guys

"What is going on with Maria?"
"Why is the Grand Admiral and Geomancer here?"
"Does the crew of the Abraxis hate me?"

“Well let’s start with who roofied me,” you say.

Not-Warwick frowns, as though you’ve asked him to explain something that you should’ve known already. “Well, whose liquor did you drink?”

“You don’t mean that Maria drugged me, do you?” You cross your arms, frowning.

“The answer eludes me,” he replies sagely. “There is a darkness that surrounds that woman, to be sure. Whether it was her or one of her lackeys that poisoned the liquor, I couldn’t tell you.” He looks uncomfortable as he continues. “Maria Sofia is a strange one. I cannot sense her at all, only a presence around her.”

You frown, nodding. “And does my crew have any idea where I am?”

He shakes his head. “The Engineer knows that something is seriously wrong, but she’s looking in all the wrong places. I feel that she has been deceived.” He seems to concentrate, as though lost in an unpleasant thought. “She feels… Confused. And worried.”

“Is she safe?” You lean forward, worried.

“She hasn’t been harmed, as far as I can tell.” Not-Warwick assures you with a calming gesture. “But she’s not out of the wolves’ den just yet.” He stops you from speaking up. “And yes, the rest of your crew is safe as well.” He gets very serious again. “Now listen. Once you leave this place, I will be unable to help you. Which means you’re going to have to save yourself from the situation you’ve gotten into.”

“Wait, I’ve got more things to ask you,” you say. However, the man shakes his head as the world around you begins to blur.

“I’m afraid that’s all the time you’ve got. Your world is calling you back.” With that, the vision of Not-Warwick fades, as does the cosmos around you.

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You hear a voice somewhere in front of you. It is distant, warped. You aren’t able to tell what it is saying. There is pain in your wrists and shoulders, and you can tell that you are on your knees, shackled to a wall or something.

You open your eyes painfully to see a black and white tile floor. Though the tiles are clean, you can see faint reddish discoloration on the white tiles and in the grout. It looks like the floor of a meatpacking plant right after the sanitation crews have come through. You painfully raise your head enough to see two pairs of feet and legs some distance in front of you.

“Ah, he’s awakened,” you hear a familiar, fluttery voice say. Looking further up, you see Dr. Maria Sofia standing in front of you, wearing the same ball gown as before. She smirks at you. “Interesting. You’re the first human subject to wake up that soon. My hunch about you might have been correct.” You scowl at her, then look around the room.

It is a small, cell-like place with several other sets of shackles affixed to the walls. You notice that you are the only person being held captive here. The lights are dim, and you have to strain to see a doorway at the end of the room, obscured by shadows. You look back over to Maria, who is standing next to a nervous-looking young woman in a labcoat. “My crew’s going to be looking for me as soon as they realize I’m late.”

Maria giggles smugly at you, sighing contentedly at the end. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Mr. Starwind.” She kneels down to make eye-contact with you. “You see, I told your cute little mechanic that I saw you get into a strange car after you finished talking with that Marine Captain. Your crew, and the local constabulary, are looking for a car that doesn’t exist.” Her giggle turns into a loud laugh as she smiles at you, eyes wide. “I’m afraid they have no idea what fun I’m going to be having with you.”

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And that's it for Episode 13! I plan on starting the new thread tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, questions, comments, concerns, criticisms, and all that other jazz are welcome.

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

Who do you think Not-Warwick is?

>>1036153
Either Yog-Sothoth or Nyarlathotep.

>>1036153

Thanks for running

>>1036130
>>1036153
This is why I never drink.

>>1036153
Shit. I didn't see that coming, I thought the kidnappings where more opportunistic but I guess if she is targeting specific traits it makes sense to do something a little more risky.
Didn't Virgo do some space magic shit to us, maybe he can sense us.

>>1036624
That is an extremely poor reason to avoid alcohol. I have been drunk many times and I have not once been kidnapped by a mad scientist. In fact I'm gonna go to a bar shortly, I'll let you know if I meet any.

>>1037250
I got buttsex once by a weasel, least I think it was a weasel.

Its not the only reason, but I worded it poorly.

Alright. Thread is archived. New one should go live any time between 4:00 and 6:00 PM today.

I fucking told you so, fucking retards voted to come here when we knew this would happen.

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>>1039057
Maybe some of us WANTED this to happen? Because obvious plot hook?

>>1039057
>>1039518
I just wanted to kill some Ayyys LAMO

I thought our communicator was also a tracking device.

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>>1039543
>Ayyys LAMO
Considering humanity is the biggest space civ, you know what the greatest enemy is

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>>1039577
Did I trigger you?

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>>1039660
No? Just pointing out that, statistically speaking, our enemies are more likely to be human, especially since the alien civilizations aren't terribly interested in the greater universe.

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>>1039727
So you have no point, your just stating your opinion.

>>1039817
I'm stating that most of our enemies/people who've threatened us have so far been humans. Except for asshole space elf, but he's an asshole.

Are you trying to start an internet argument or something?

>>1039848
Not at all, you seem more upset than me. What you said had little to no relevance to my post >>1039543
>I just wanted to kill some Ayyys LAMO

Then your saying our greatest enemy by statistical probably are people and the image you use is from futurama were the scene was by putting all of the evilest elements of the animals on earth together to create a evil being is humans.

Like it doesn't make much sense relatively speaking as a response to my post.

If you wanted to make it about chances by statistical probability then just say that. Don't go all convoluted trying to get your argument across.

>>1039885
I was somewhat surprised at the desire to kill ayys, mainly because just about everybody who's been an enemy has been human, and insofar there ain't anything alien on this planet. Hence my post being "the enemy is humans", and "we're more likely to fight other humans than aliens"

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>>1039915
My post was more jokingly satire in the sense that Aliens? HERESY! Oooh this could be fun, but I need a crappy reason to justify it, or something.

pic

Hey everyone. I'm going to have to delay the start of the next thread until tomorrow.

>>1039518
Fuck you are stupid

>>1043705
Without curiosity this quest would just be space truck simulator. Now it has plot.

New thread is UP!
>>1044728
>>1044728
>>1044728