You grumble, leaning against the wall. Some time ago, Dr. Sofia had run tests on you, extracted blood, and knocked you out. When you had awoken again, you found that you weren’t chained to the wall anymore. In fact, they had moved you to a different room entirely. You wish they would’ve at least let you keep your dress blues, but when you woke up, you were dressed in what looked like light blue scrubs.

You now sit in a dark cell with concrete floors and walls. Earlier, you tried the door, to no avail, and you spent a good deal of time since then pacing around. You’d gotten tired after what felt like hours, so you decided to plant yourself where you currently sit.

Your mind goes back to that dream you had. Was it just a dream, or had you actually spoken to some sort of… Outside entity? You shake your head, shifting your thoughts to your crew. If what Sofia said to you is correct, they’re probably looking all over the city for you, and for an imaginary car that Sofia told them you got into.

You swear to yourself as you think of any possible way to escape. There are no windows in this cell, a single steel door, and a vent on the ceiling with a small light next to it. The ceiling itself is about twelve feet high, likely intentionally out of reach to keep prisoners from even attempting to reach the vent.

File: Dr. Sofia.jpg (34 KB, 225x350)

34 KB JPG

There is a sound of metal sliding across metal behind the door, and it opens slowly to reveal Maria Sofia and her meek-looking assistant, both wearing labcoats. She grins smugly at you as you merely glare at her. You would’ve made a move to attack her by now, but the assistant is carrying a pump shotgun, and she looks nervous enough to use it if you try something.

“I see you’ve adjusted well to your accommodations,” the Doctor says with a giggle. She then gets serious, narrowing her eyes at you. “Stand. Now.” Your eyes go wide as your legs move on their own. Your body moves swiftly, beyond your control, and you find yourself in a standing position. Sofia frowns at you, sighing. “No, no. That won’t do.” She crosses her arms. “You’re a soldier, stand at attention.”

Your body complies again as you snap to attention perfectly. You openly scowl at her as she giggles again. You briefly glance at the assistant, who looks away when your eyes meet. You then look back at Sofia. “So did you come here just to use me as a glorified puppet? Seems like a waste of everyone’s time.”

Sofia’s smile vanishes as she narrows her eyes at you, leaning forward. “Hardly. As much fun as it is to have you play the pet dog, we have much work to do.” She turns around. “Follow. And don’t forget to close the door behind you. We’re heading to the R&D Lab.” She looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, and feel free to make conversation. I do enjoy a good chat.”

You begin following her as she and her assistant leave the cell. You close the door behind you, making sure to catch a glimpse of the lock before you return to your position between Sofia and her assistant. It would seem that you still have control of your head, even when she’s commanding your body. The three of you begin walking down a long corridor, which looks the same as the inside of your cell. It is very quiet as you walk with them.

>Attempt to talk to the assistant. Perhaps you can coax her into spilling some secrets about this place.
>Attempt to talk to Dr. Sofia. At the very least, you can throw some insults her way.
>Remain silent.

>>1044739
>Remain silent.

>>1044739
>>Attempt to talk to Dr. Sofia. At the very least, you can throw some insults her way.

>>1044739
>>Attempt to talk to Dr. Sofia. At the very least, you can throw some insults her way.

>>1044739
>Attempt to talk to the assistant. Perhaps you can coax her into spilling some secrets about this place.

You look over to Dr. Sofia with a frown. “So why me anyway?” You decide to lead in with a seemingly innocuous question.

The doctor glances over at you, making a face you can’t quite read. “Because I’ve read your combat records, Mr. Starwind. You are quite the specimen.”

You chuckle mirthlessly. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” she replies. “You are a natural survivor. It would seem you are predisposed to being active in times of danger. Those traits are quite useful.” She smirks. “After all, they have gotten you this far.”

“So you’re planning on stealing my traits?” You raise an eyebrow. The three of you turn a corner and enter a section of hallway that is totally different. The walls are tiled instead of bare concrete, and it is well-lit. You can’t help but notice the occasional reddish stains on the floor where you figure something was dragged.

“Something like that,” she nods. “Though… There are other uses for you that I have in mind. Things you couldn’t dream of.”

“I bet they’d be more suitable in a nightmare,” you mutter just loud enough to be heard. Interestingly enough, you hear the assistant quietly stifle a giggle. Sofia however, doesn’t appear to notice.

“Of course a Luddite wouldn’t understand the necessities of progress,” she prattles. “It may look nightmarish to the simple-minded, but I am a scientist. Knowledge and progress are what make me tick. Without some sacrifices, progress can never be made.” She grins at you as the three of you pass a series of windows. You look in to see dozens of operating tables, most of them empty, but some with patients strapped to them, struggling.

You frown at her logic. “So what ends could possibly justify kidnapping people and doing experiments on them?”

Sofia sighs, as if having to explain something to a child. “We stand at the precipice of a new era. Discoveries in the fields of genetics, brain chemistry, nerve science, and nanotechnology are opening up doors we never even thought of in previous decades. With our research, we might be able to achieve total peace in the galaxy.” She looks at you with wide eyes, seemingly passionate. “Think of it, a future with no wars, no strife. A future where everyone is happy because they aren’t capable of worrying about superfluous things anymore. Only those who could handle the burden of leadership would need to feel any stress at all.” She smiles serenely. “Everyone will be content with their lives, and humanity can finally be at peace.”

>”But you’d have to take away peoples’ freedom in order to do that. Is that really worth it to you?”
>”You’re a fucking sociopath.”
>”And how does all of this make you feel? Are you alright with the possibility of someone controlling your entire life?” (question the assistant)
>Say nothing.
>Write-in.

>>1045037
>”But you’d have to take away peoples’ freedom in order to do that. Is that really worth it to you?”
>”You’re a fucking sociopath.”

>>1045037
>”And how does all of this make you feel? Are you alright with the possibility of someone controlling your entire life?” (question the assistant)

Why not rule over a bunch of soulless robots instead.

We needa rip out the implant in our spine or some shit.

>>1045037
>"Might as well just kill everyone and rule robots. It wouldn't be any different."
While arguing would feel good, she's insane, and you literally can't argue with crazy people. They jump through whatever hoop they can to make what they think is right right. It's basically impossible to make them realize they're wrong.

>>1045037
>"So you're gonna turn everybody into sheep for a pipe dream. And what about the aliens? You gonna make them robots too?"

>>1045037
>”And how does all of this make you feel? Are you alright with the possibility of someone controlling your entire life?” (question the assistant)

>>1045037
>>”And how does all of this make you feel? Are you alright with the possibility of someone controlling your entire life?” (question the assistant)

>>1045037
>So you're going to make all of humanity into robots? Seems less like peace and more like You're trying to set yourself up as a God.

“So you’re just going to turn everyone into robots then?” You balk at her. “What’s even the point of being alive if you don’t have free will?” You sigh. “Sounds less like a desire for peace and more like a god complex.”

“I see that I can’t make you see the light,” she huffs. “That is unfortunate. At least I can keep you under control this way.”

You look over at the assistant, raising an eyebrow. “And what about you? Do you think all of this is acceptable?”

She goes wide eyed for a second, as if unsure what to say. She mutters something under her breath, for a few seconds before Sofia cuts her off.

“You don’t need to answer that question,” she says simply. “I already know where your loyalties lie.”

“R-right…” The assistant looks at the floor, then shakes her head quickly. “Keep your eyes ahead, subject. I don’t want to have to use this.” She points the shotgun at you with little enthusiasm. She forces a stern expression onto her face.

You merely look forward, rolling your eyes. It was worth a shot, you figure. The three of you turn another corner and arrive at a set of double doors. “Here we are!” Sofia bombastically announces your arrival. “The Research and Development Wing!” She opens the doors and orders you into a rather large room with what appear to be cell doors on either side. In the center of the room are several carts with test tube racks, as well as hospital gurneys. You notice that all of the white tiles in this room have the faint red discoloration indicative of blood that has been cleaned up. Sofia points to one of the gurneys. “Lay down on that.”

Your body again moves on its own as you deposit yourself onto the gurney with a sigh. The metal is cold, and you feel a shiver run up your spine as the assistant straps you to the table, an apologetic expression on her face. She then stands back as Dr. Sofia approaches you with a syringe in her hand. She plunges the needle into your neck, injecting an amber-colored fluid into you. You feel the ice-cold fluid spread through your veins, gradually making your entire upper body cold.

“Time to see if our work with the other subjects has paid off,” she says with a smile. “Try to remain calm, this could hurt a little.”

You are about to throw another verbal barb her way when your entire body screams out in pain. You swear aloud, seeing spots as you force your eyes shut and bite back a scream. The pain reaches a point where it is almost enough to make you pass out, you feel yourself foaming at the mouth. And then, it all subsides. You open your eyes and see that everything looks slightly blurrier, but brighter at the same time.

“It looks like it worked,” the assistant says optimistically. “He’s resilient. I wonder if he could end up being the next Subject Twenty-Four.”

Sofia frowns at the assistant, slapping her hard on the back of her head. “Don’t be stupid. Twenty-Four was an Archean. They’re far more resilient than humans. The same process would kill this one.”

>”What did you do to me?”
>”Subject Twenty-Four? What number am I?”
>”So you’ve experimented on aliens too. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
>Write-in.

>>1045397
>>”What did you do to me?”

>>1045397
>”What did you do to me?”
>”Subject Twenty-Four? What number am I?”

>>1045397
>>”Subject Twenty-Four? What number am I?”

>>1045397
>”What did you do to me?”

>>1045397
>”What did you do to me?”
>”Subject Twenty-Four? What number am I?”

If we get a chance, we need to plug our ears or destroy our eardrums. We can't obey commands we can't hear.

>>1045397
>"Twenty Four? "This one?" Guess we're all just objects now. I was right about the robots if that's how you're going to treat people."

File: The son of a farmer.png (458 KB, 550x550)

458 KB PNG

“Subject Twenty-Four?” You raise an eyebrow at the two women. “What number am I?”

Sofia begins laughing. “Oh, we stopped counting quite some time ago.” She covers her mouth as her laughter subsides. “After all, you don’t name something if you know it’s going to die. It’s better to avoid getting too attached. I think we stopped using numbers around the high eight-hundreds.”

You swallow nervously, deciding to change the subject. “So what did you do to me?”

Sofia leans forward with a small flashlight, forcing your eye open and flashing it straight at your pupil. She does so with the other eye as well. “I put more control tethers into your bloodstream. The ones from the whiskey were beginning to dissipate.”

“Control tethers?” You frown. So that’s what she’s been using. “Are they some kind of drug or something?”

She grins at you. “Nothing as mundane as drugs, no.” She runs a hand along your forehead, prompting you to recoil as much as you can under the restraints. “The control tethers are my special project.” She then reaches down and releases the restraints, allowing you to sit up on the gurney. “These ones are stronger though.” As she says that, you feel a sudden compulsion to stand up. She grins as you step off of the gurney and stand at attention. “Good, good. It’s working.”

Your body moves itself over to one of the cell doors as you look confusedly from Sofia to the assistant. Sofia walks over to the door with you, opening it and gesturing to the dark cell inside. You hear the same voice from before, the one that told you to sleep.

“Enter,” it says. You enter the cell and hear someone whimper in the corner. The door closes behind you, and a light on the ceiling turns on. You look down to see a young man wearing the same scrubs as you. And as he looks at you, you realize that you’ve seen his face before. It is the kid who introduced you to the Major.

He looks at you and you know he recognizes you. “T-they got you too?” He’s shivering. “I… They made me… Do things…” He begins to sob, looking at his hands. You take a step toward him under your own control.

>”Listen, kid. We need to formulate an escape plan.”
>”How long have you been here?”
>”What did they make you do?”
>”I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. What’s your name?”
>Write-in.

>>1045622
>>”How long have you been here?”
>>”What did they make you do?”
>>”I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. What’s your name?”

>>1045622
>”How long have you been here?”
>”What did they make you do?”
>”I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. What’s your name?”

>>1045648
>>1045649
This.

“Hey, hey,” you begin. “Calm down.” You move closer to the kid, trying your best to get him to stop sobbing. “Look, we can’t help each other if you just sit there and freak out. How long have you been here?”

The kid looks up at you, wiping his eyes. “I don’t know… They got me the day after you guys delivered those guns, but it feels like I’ve been here for so long…” He shakes his head confusedly. “It feels like I’ve been here for weeks.”

That’s certainly not good. You frown, sitting on the floor next to him. “You said that they made you do things. What kind of things?”

The kid seems to shrink back at your question. “They locked me in this… room. It was like some kind of arena. There were twenty of us…” He shakes his head, eyes shut tight. “They made us…” You understand what he’s implying as his voice trails off. He looks back at you. “I was the only one who made it…”

“I’m sorry,” you say flatly. There isn’t much else to say. You can’t understand why these people would do something like that. If they were just after genetic material for experiments, why not use cadavers?

“Me too,” the kid replies.

You look over at the kid, frowning. “I don’t think we ever got introduced,” you say as you stick a hand out. “I’m Allen Starwind.”

“Jason Everett,” the kid shakes your hand. “Don’t see what the point in introductions is though, we’ll probably be dead soon anyway.”

>”Don’t think like that. I’m going to get us out of here.”
>”They wouldn’t be keeping either of us alive if they didn’t need us alive.”
>”That’s pretty grim stuff for a kid your age to be saying.”
>”If that’s what you believe, I suppose there’s no changing your mind. But I intend to get out of here alive.”
>Write-in.

>>1045907
>>”Don’t think like that. I’m going to get us out of here.”
I'm Allen Fucking Starwind, I've faced worse situations.

>>1045907
>”Don’t think like that. I’m going to get us out of here.”

>>1045907
>>”Don’t think like that. I’m going to get us out of here.”

>>1045907
>>”Don’t think like that. I’m going to get us out of here.”

>>1045920
This

“Don’t think like that,” you assure him. “We’re getting out of this. Both of us.”

Jason shakes his head, a look of resignation on his face. “You can believe that if you want to, Mr. Starwind.” He frowns at you. “I know your type. Spacers, always thinking with their heads in the clouds.” He looks away, sighing. “Some of us don’t get to just get out and leave out problems behind. We have to live with it.” He rubs his eyes. “We’re stuck in it, there’s no other way of saying it. These kind of people don’t just leave survivors.”

“I’ve been in worse situations before,” you explain. “We’ll find a way out. I’m sure of it.”

Jason doesn’t speak for a while. The two of you just sit there in silence. Then, he decides to break the silence. “The Major said you were in that big war. What was it like?”

“Hell, only worse,” you say simply. “At least in Hell there aren’t innocent bystanders everywhere.” You shake your head, grumbling. “A lot of kids signed up looking for adventure, and ended up dying for no reason. And to top it all off, the galaxy is even more divided now than it was before the War. But…” You think back to Linda and Warwick, to the times when you weren’t getting attacked. “I have to admit, some of the most important things in my life happened in that war.” You look over at him. “I guess it’s more of a mixed bag than I like to admit to. But still, if I could go back and talk to my younger self, I’d tell him to ignore the recruiters.”

“That sounds a lot like what the Major says about it,” Jason nods. “I mean, he’s a lot less open about that stuff, but it seems like he isn’t fond of his experiences either.” He raises his eyebrows. “Makes me wonder why he decided to go back to being a soldier in the first place.”

“Some people just can’t stop,” you say. “They fight so much that they forget how to do anything else.” You shrug. “I’ve seen it happen to a lot of people before. They lose the part of themselves that desires peace, and they get stir-crazy if they aren’t on a battlefield.” You stare at the bare wall, thinking of some of your old war buddies who kind of self-destructed after the War.

“Do you think the Major will just go find another war once this one is over?” Jason looks at you inquisitively.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “I could be completely off the mark with him. He’s not exactly a regular soldier.”

You’re going to say more, but the words die in your throat. You feel your entire body tense up. Your heart rate increases and it feels like your chest is about to burst. You can feel your pulse behind your eyelids. Then it happens, you hear the voice that you’ve heard two other times. It rings in the back of your head with no defining characteristics, but it sounds deafening to you. With the concussion of a bomb going off, the voice speaks.

“Kill.”

File: Are you living in the rea(...).jpg (12 KB, 639x334)

12 KB JPG

Aaaand that's it for tonight's run! I know the session was short, but I have to be up early tomorrow, so I need to get dinner, a shower, and get to bed all before midnight. Tomorrow's session should go live at around the same time of the day.

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WY0NEQd3_co

>>1046132
So far this has been one big railroad. If you want us to die and the quest to end just say so.

>>1046132
See you next time.

>>1046132
Thanks for running.

>>1046159
>kidnapped
>expecting we have a lot of input on where we go and what happens
OK anon. How about you shitpost somewhere else.

>>1046159
M9

M8 pls

We're only in this situation because ANONS voted to go to the party

I voted to stay away

But everyone else elected to chase the plothool

You have no one to blame but your fellow anons.

>>1046179
>>1046180
It's either "Lol you're fucked and you die" or it's not. This entire session was basically pointless and something that could have been done as one long write up. This isn't so much a quest write now as it is a LN like Princess guard Quest. Either skip to the part where we die or let us actually do something.

>>1046198
>complaining about limited player agency in a situation where the character has limited agency
This isn't your personal power fantasy.

>>1046198
Fuck off, this is exposition to help us understand what is going on and look for ways to escape. If it only took one post to get out of a bad situation then you would have something to complain about.

>>1046222
no it's Asking the QM to skip to where something. Cause right now it's wank off session.


>>1046238
nothing here has helped us towards that end in the slightest. It's been the villain wanking off about how great their goals are and letting nothing we can actually sue slip.

>>1046254
m9

You're just buttmad cause this ONE SESSION you didn't get to do much

chill

>>1046254
And besides, skipping is for unimportant stuff. I'd say that getting kidnapped and then mind-controlled is fairly important.

>>1046198
Should have never taken drinks from a stranger.

Strange how they can give us commands to do things, but we can still think and talk freely, lets try knocking ourselves unconscious so we don't kill the boy...

>>1046309
I'm thinking that our military training is gonna be a great help in this: discipline will be used to defy their commands.

>>1046254
We don't actually know her goals, and we had the opportunity to ask her stuff. We learnt more about the control tethers, about her assistant and how she runs the place, that there are sometimes large amounts of prisoners here.

>>1046254
Okay so I was just cooking some dinner. Now I've got time to reply.

1. This session was about 4 hours shorter than a regular one. I had to make a decision as to how I would chunk things up, and I went with what worked best from a narrative point of view.

2. You've already made some choices that will seriously affect your possible actions in tomorrow's session. It may not seem like it, but dialogue choices can pave the way for things to come.

3. Just doing a timeskip would be lazy and in poor form. Allen has been taken captive, and I'm trying to do that justice.

If the session didn't go the way you wanted it to, I'm sorry. However, nobody's forcing you to participate. If this seems boring or pointless to you, you can always just lurk until an "important" vote comes along.

>>1046324
Or our latent space magic abilities!

>>1046345
Oh yeah, that. I forgot, we have the blessing of an alien god.

>>1046324
I hold little illusion for that, shes using some weird bs with nano and biochemical shit in our brain and nervous system or whatever.

We can take voice commands and possible receive commands via radio or something.

Or she said it to us while we were passed out. And set a timer for us somehow, not like we can count very well subconsciously, so probably its radio controlled idk.

>>1046339
We ought to install a little device in us that can fry nano tech and electronic stuff that can be planted into us.... except for the device itself.

>>1046365
AIien god and space magic, remember?

>>1046365
She's a Geneticist, she's overwriting our genes either with nano bots or viruses.

>>1046380
we needa save a sample of yourself before we change, quickly jack off in the corner while the kid watches us.

>>1046461
We're about to be forced to kill him, so that is unlikely.

>>1046481
Our space juju can prevent that

>>1046481
>implying we won't be able to resist

>>1046481
I bet we can distract ourselves or do mental gymnastics to buy a bit of time.

>>1046497
>>1046503
>>1046506
You forget the kid will be trying to kill us too.

>>1046535
You assume too much, the kid will only kill millions of sperm

>>1046198
We did this to ourselves. Unless you're me who voted to not go the party.

rip pirate wafiu

>>1047937
I voted against it.

>>1046254
I saw plenty of red flags and opportunities to turn back on the path that led us here. and yet here we are. WE have to deal with the consequences of our gunho actions and find a way out to contact our crew.

>>1047953
my nigga

>>1047984
Alas. I'm rooting for Cynthia, so we can't be friends...

>>1046238
>Look for ways to escape
>More and more control is taken from us as it goes on until we have nothing
Your a moron

>>1046324
Did you even bother to read where we couldn't defy them, and then their control only got super reinforced?

Choo mother cunt fucking choo.

You try to fight it with every ounce of your being. Your hands begin to move as you lunge at the kid. “Look out!” You manage to shout a warning just in time for him to roll out of the way.

“W-what the hell was that about?” The kid stands up, confused.

“They’re trying to make me kill you.” You stand up, taking another step toward him. However, you realize that you have just a little bit of control. It’s like fighting against a fast-moving current, but you’re able to slow your actions down just a little bit. Again you lunge at the kid, and again he moves out of the way. Your movements are sluggish and poorly balanced, and your head smacks right into the steel door.

You stand up straight, looking over at the kid. Fighting against the tethers isn’t doing much, just making you move slightly more slowly. You try to fight harder, but it’s exhausting to even do what you’re doing now. You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up. “What should I do?” The kid dodges another sluggish attack from you.

You grimace as your body strains against you again. “You’re going to have to knock me out or something,” you decide. “A good punch to the head should do it.”

“But what if I kill you or something?” The kid looks at you with wide eyes as you approach him again.

“Look, it’s either me or you!” You lunge again, reaching for his throat. He just barely manages to duck out of the way. You’re getting faster, and it’s getting harder to resist. As you turn around, it’s like a burst of static electricity goes through your whole body. You shriek as you hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. “That… Hurt.” You groan as you put a hand to your head and sit up slowly. Wait, you just did that under your own control. You move a hand in front of your face to see if this is really happening.

File: Hazmat goon.jpg (44 KB, 445x800)

44 KB JPG

And just as you do, the smell of some kind of gas fills the room. You begin to feel disoriented as you again fall to the floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the kid hit the floor too. The door opens and you see two large figures standing there wearing full hazmat suits. They’re clearly not Dr. Sofia and the assistant. One of them goes over and restrains the kid, who appears to have passed out from the gas. The other guy picks you up almost effortlessly, dragging you out into the R&D lab. You see Sofia and the assistant standing some distance away, both wearing masks as well. The look on the doctor’s face can only be described as pure hatred. She glares at you, then shouts an order at the person carrying you.

“Take the subject to his cell! I’ll deal with him personally later.” With that, you are dragged to your cell. The figure throws you unceremoniously to the floor as you sputter and cough.

Eventually, you regain movement. Apparently the gas wears off relatively easily. However, you now notice that your entire body feels like pins and needles. The sensation is just enough to make you unable to remain seated. For quite some time, you pace around the cell, grumbling.

And then the most unexpected thing happens. You hear the sound of the cell door again being unlocked. It opens maybe a couple of inches wide, and you creep over to it, preparing for the worst. You hear somewhat labored breathing on the other side.

“You don’t have much time…” A voice says weakly on the other side. It’s Dr. Sofia’s assistant. “Y-you have to leave now or you’ll be as good as dead…”

>”And why should I trust you? You’re just one of the Doctor’s cronies.”
>”What happened to me back in the R&D lab? I was able to fight the control tethers…”
>Rush out and attack her. If you have a hostage, you might be able to force the Doctor to let you go.
>Step out and make your escape.
>Write-in.

>>1049015
>”What happened to me back in the R&D lab? I was able to fight the control tethers…”

>>1049015
>>”And why should I trust you? You’re just one of the Doctor’s cronies.”

>>1049015
”What happened to me back in the R&D lab? I was able to fight the control tethers…”

>>1049015
>”What happened to me back in the R&D lab? I was able to fight the control tethers…”

>>1049015
>”What happened to me back in the R&D lab? I was able to fight the control tethers…”
We know this could be a trick, but we can maybe exploit it or do some damage.

File: Sofia's assistant.jpg (18 KB, 210x240)

18 KB JPG

You take a step closer to the door, opening it just wide enough to peer into the hallway. Or rather, what would be the hallway if Sofia’s assistant wasn’t standing so close to the door that she blocked any view of it. “What happened to me back in the R&D Lab? I thought it was impossible to fight the tethers.”

She looks away, frowning. “Normally it is,” she says. “And in the few cases where people have fought it, the feedback has killed them.” She sighs raggedly, coughing. “I had to choose between severing the link entirely, or watching you get yourself killed.”

You frown at her. “Why not just let me die then?”

She coughs again. “Because I’ve already got enough blood on my hands,” she seems to have a hard time talking. You look down and immediately realize why. There’s a large blood stain on the left side of her torso, near her waist. You look back up to see her grimace, putting a hand to her side. “I can’t just keep letting Dr. Sofia get away with this.” She holds the shotgun loosely in her hand, seemingly about to drop in entirely.

You open the door a little wider, stepping out into the hallway. “You’re injured…” Your first instinct is to look for something to stop the bleeding, even if you aren’t sure you can trust her.

“I helped the kid get out before I came here…” She coughs again. “One of the Doctor’s bodyguards caught me. I… I managed to take care of him, but he got a bullet in me in the process…” She smiles sadly, distantly. Her expression hardens. “You have to leave. She’s sure to return soon, and when she sees what went down in the R&D Lab… When she finds the body of that goon…” The young woman shudders, leaning against the wall. “She’ll come looking for you. I guess she fancied you as her perfect specimen.”

“But what about you?” You grimace as you look back at the wound. Though you’ve seen people survive worse, this is certainly bad. You can tell she’s lost a lot of blood. You see a long trail of blood droplets on the floor behind her when you peer over her shoulder.

She sighs, chuckling mirthlessly. “What about me?” She parrots what you’ve said in a sarcastic tone. “There’s no light at the end of the tunnel for me, Mr. Starwind. I knew exactly what would end up happening when I made the decision to do this.” She frowns. “Now go. The exit is down the hallway to the left. It leads into the Doctor’s study. If you run into her, you should be able to catch her off guard.” She forces the shotgun into your hand. "She may be a psychopath, but she's as mortal as anyone else."

>”I can help you. We just need to stop the bleeding.”
>”Are you sure the kid got out?”
>”Thank you.” (ends conversation)
>Write-in.

>>1049545
>>”Thank you.” (ends conversation)

>>1049545
>”I can help you. We just need to stop the bleeding.”

>>1049545
>”I can help you. We just need to stop the bleeding.”
We need her to be able to find ways to counter the tethers and mindcontrol crap.

>>1049545
>>”I can help you. We just need to stop the bleeding.”

>>1049545

Thank you.” (ends conversation
Thye all need to de 8n case someone starts this shit up again and same with the notes about it.
Im sure both govs would love to have this

>>1049545
>>”I can help you. We just need to stop the bleeding.”

>>1049545
>>”I can help you. We just need to stop the bleeding.”

File: Anya Kowalski.jpg (24 KB, 225x350)

24 KB JPG

She looks like she’s about to say more, but she slides down the wall into a sitting position, sighing tiredly. You kneel next to her, frowning. “I can help you,” you say. “We just need to get this bleeding stopped.”

She looks at you like you’ve just told an unfunny joke. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m not going to make it…”

“That’s not a healthy way to think,” you reply. “Now let’s get that labcoat off first.” You help her pull the labcoat off, setting it aside. She’s wearing a simple button-up shirt on underneath. The blood stain has gotten bigger. You unbutton the part of the shirt around the wound and open it, examining the wound itself. If you had to guess, you’d say it’s from a pistol, but you can’t be sure.

“How has someone as optimistic as you survived this long?” She looks at you with lidded eyes, slurring slightly.

“Focus,” you say. “Don’t fall asleep.” You remove the scrub shirt you’re wearing. “What’s your name?”

“I’m… Anya Kowalski,” she replies. You bring a hand around to feel her back where the exit wound would be. However, there’s no exit wound to speak of, meaning that the bullet is still somewhere inside of her.

“Okay, Anya.” You think back to your basic first-aid training in the Navy. It wasn’t much, but you learned some very useful skills. As long as that bullet isn’t lodged in any organs, it should be fine to leave it until you can get some proper doctors looking at it. “I need you to stay with me. This is going to hurt like hell.”

You bring the scrub shirt to the wound, then retrieve the labcoat from where you sat it. You gesture for her to hold the shirt, and you wrap the labcoat around her torso. She bites down a scream as you tie the coat tight around the makeshift bandage. She breathes heavily, though slowly, as you check the bandage one last time. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to dig the bullet out of me…”

“It’d just cause more internal damage,” you reply, quoting your first-aid instructor. “Better to leave that to the medical professionals.” You stand up, putting out a hand. “Can you stand?” She grabs on and you help her to her feet, draping her arm over your left shoulder. You then grip the shotgun in your right hand.

“I suppose we may as well get going,” she says wearily. “No use in standing around here.”

>”So how long have you worked for the Doctor?”
>”What exactly are the Control Tethers anyway?
>”Thanks for saving my life.”
>"We should find you some medicine to minimize the pain. Is there some kind of drug storage area down here?"
>Remain silent.
>Write-in.

>>1049883
>”Thanks for saving my life.”
>”What exactly are the Control Tethers anyway?

>>1049883
>>”What exactly are the Control Tethers anyway?
keep her mind off whats happening

>>1049883
>>”So how long have you worked for the Doctor?”
>Where can we find transport or communicators to get help us get way from here? Where is here?

Gotta call our ship.

>>1049883
>”Thanks for saving my life.”
>”What exactly are the Control Tethers anyway?

>>1049883
>”Thanks for saving my life.”
>”What exactly are the Control Tethers anyway?

>>1049883
>”Thanks for saving my life.”
>”What exactly are the Control Tethers anyway?
Hopefully our ship gets a surgeon out of this.

>>1049883
>>”Thanks for saving my life.”
>>"We should find you some medicine to minimize the pain. Is there some kind of drug storage area down here?"

File: NANOMACHINES SON.png (563 KB, 867x766)

563 KB PNG

You grunt as you begin walking with Anya, matching her stride so that she can put weight on you. “Thanks for saving my life,” you say.

“You’re welcome,” she says. “Consider us even.” She chuckles a little. “Assuming we make it out of here, that is.”

“Where exactly is here?” You frown, looking around the hallway. It is indistinct, and made from the same gray concrete as your cell.

“The sub-basement of the Manor,” she replies. “Dr. Sofia figured that nobody would look for something like this at her home. I suppose she was right. Nobody’s even suspected it.”

“Fair enough,” you nod. That’s promising, at least you aren’t far from your ship. “What are the Control Tethers? Dr. Sofia said that they weren’t drugs or anything.”

“Right.” Anya grimaces. “They’re nanomachines. Very complicated ones that disperse specific chemicals and electrical signals.” She looks over at you guiltily. “I designed them. My specialty is nanotechnology.” She laughs a little. “The only reason that Dr. Sofia had me around is because she doesn’t have the skill to do my work. She’s an accomplished genetic engineer, but there’s only so much modern gene science can do.”

“So that’s how you were able to sever the connection. You designed the whole system,” you reply with a grin. “Makes sense.” The two of you reach a flight of stairs on the left side of the hallway.

“This is it,” she points to the stairway. “These lead straight into the main study in the mansion. It’s on the first floor, so we should be able to get out pretty easily.”

You both begin ascending the stairs. “So the control tethers are nanomachines. But why were you using them in the first place if Sofia’s entire work is based around genetics?”

“It’s not based around genetics,” Anya corrects you. “It’s all about controlling the masses in any way possible.”

>”So what are you planning on doing once we get out of here?”
>”Can you walk on your own? I might have to fight once we reach the study.”
>”Do you know where Sofia put my personal effects? I need to at least get my gun and communicator.”
>Say nothing.
>Write-in.

Once we escape we will have to get off planet fast because Dr Sofia well sic the geomancer on us. Either because they know about her methods and want to plug this potential leak or because she will say we sabotaged her valuable research.

>>1050210
>>>”Can you walk on your own? I might have to fight once we reach the study.”
>>”Do you know where Sofia put my personal effects? I need to at least get my gun and communicator.”

>>1050210
>”Do you know where Sofia put my personal effects? I need to at least get my gun and communicator.”
>”So what are you planning on doing once we get out of here?”

>>1050210
>”Can you walk on your own? I might have to fight once we reach the study.”
>”Do you know where Sofia put my personal effects? I need to at least get my gun and communicator.”

>>1050210
>>”Can you walk on your own? I might have to fight once we reach the study.”
>>”Do you know where Sofia put my personal effects? I need to at least get my gun and communicator.”

>>1050210
>”Do you know where Sofia put my personal effects? I need to at least get my gun and communicator.”
>”Can you walk on your own? I might have to fight once we reach the study.”

>>1050214
So we have to kill her and destroy her research before they release pax into the atmosphere and make most people too docile to survive.

>”Can you walk on your own? I might have to fight once we reach the study.”
>”Do you know where Sofia put my personal effects? I need to at least get my gun and communicator.”
Don't forget to say Geronimo.

>>1050210
>>”So what are you planning on doing once we get out of here?”

Hey everyone. I have to step away from the computer for a while. I'll be back in like 1-2 hours.

>>1050426
k

File: It's a lot like this.jpg (114 KB, 736x576)

114 KB JPG

“Do you think you can walk on your own?” You look over at Anya. “I might have to fight when we get to the study.”

She removes her arm from your shoulder slowly, putting more weight on her feet uneasily. “I… I should be able to.” She nods at you after getting her bearings. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The two of you continue climbing the stairs, and another thought comes to mind. “Do you know where Sofia kept my personal effects? I’d like to get my communicator and gun before we leave.”

Anya looks grim as she speaks. “They’d be in her trophy room.” She sighs, pointing up toward the doorway at the top of the stairs. “It’s right off from the study. Dr. Sofia has a habit of collecting artifacts from her subjects.”

“Charming,” you reply sarcastically. The two of you remain silent as you reach the top of the stairs. The door is metal, though there’s not much special about it. You crouch and get the shotgun ready as you open the door.

The study is exceedingly well-appointed, with bookcases on one side of the room, and large windows on the other. It is night outside, and the study itself is lit by old-school gas lamps and candles. You notice that there is a fire going in the fireplace, and there is an old sword hanging on the mantle. As you creep into the room quietly, you begin to worry. With the low light and high amount of furniture, there are a lot of blind spots in here. You glance over at Anya, who creeps alongside you.

And then your blood runs cold. You hear the sound of classical music playing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clNe1IoVN0M

You grimace, looking around the room. “Ah, this is unfortunate, Anya.” Sofia’s voice booms from a large chair facing the fireplace. “I was hoping you’d be the assistant that stayed with me the longest.” She stands up from the chair and you see her silhouette in front of the fireplace. As she takes a step forward, you see that it is indeed her, the smug grin on her face lit by the candlelight. “And Mr. Starwind… I’m really surprised that you thought you could escape.”

>”The only one stopping me is you, and I’ve got the shotgun.”
>”Let me get my effects and I’ll be going. There’s no need for me to kill you.”
>Fuck this. Shoot her.
>write-in.

>>1051866
>Fuck this. Shoot her.

>>1051866
>Fuck this. Shoot her.
I know it won't be this simple, it never is, but lets try anyways.

>>1051866
>Fuck this. Shoot her.

>>1051866
>>Fuck this. Shoot her.

>>1051866
>Fuck this. Shoot her.
I will put and end to your evil in the name of sanity and space jesus.

>>1051866
Oops, forgot. I know I'm playing into it, but
>inb4 Anya's setting us up
>inb4 this is a test they're running and it's all a dream
>inb4 it's not a dream, but is a test to influence sight/hearing and not real
>inb4 anything else that makes this not real/ make it staged

>>1052046
Inb4 we shoot Cynthia, she drank the same stuff we did....

>>1051866
>>Fuck this. Shoot her.
No time for formalities.

File: She's at least this angry.jpg (289 KB, 1400x785)

289 KB JPG

You stand up, aiming the shotgun at Sofia. Quite frankly, you’ve had enough of this bullshit. Flicking the safety off, you exhale and prepare to pull the trigger.

“Allen! Watch out!” Anya screams as you see something out of the corner of your eye. You move just quickly enough to avoid a rifle butt to the face, but it connects with your shoulder hard enough to make you drop the shotgun and fall backward into a small table, knocking it over. You hear the sound of glass breaking as an oil lamp hits the wooden floor catching it alight. One of the goons from before stands above you with an assault rifle, pointing it down at you confidently.

But of course, you see that he’s left the safety of. Amateurs. You roll away as he fails to fire the first time, grunting. You stand as he flips the safety off and levels the rifle at you, but you’ve already grabbed the rifle and begun to tug it out of his hands by the time he fires. It goes off next to your head, sending a bullet through one of the windows and nearly knocking you out. You shout from the pain as you try to hit him in the face with his own rifle. Your head hurts, and you’re certain that one of your eardrums has burst.

The goon, however, has more leverage. He bashes you in the face with the fore grip once, but you get enough of a grip on the rifle that you manage to eject the magazine, causing it to hit the floor with a loud smack. The goon grunts at you, pushing you back again and getting ready to shoot.

Only to be interrupted by the sound of Anya screaming. She charges forward with a goddamn sword in her hands, driving it into the man’s stomach and yanking diagonally toward the ground, nearly cutting through his torso entirely. He looks surprised more than anything, as the life drains from his eyes. However, something even more frightening happens.

You hear Sofia speak up confidently. “Kill,” she says in the same tone you heard when she commanded you. The goon seems to regain some strength, and you see his hand go to a knife on his belt as he coughs up a massive amount of blood.

Your hand goes to the spot on the floor where you dropped the shotgun, and your hand finds the cool metal of the receiver. You pick the weapon up and shout at Anya. “Get back, he’s not dead!” She pushes herself away from the man as he lazily swipes at her with the knife, missing by several inches.

File: DarylShotgun.gif (2.17 MB, 400x226)

2.17 MB GIF

You level the weapon at his head and pull the trigger. Everything from his mouth up ceases to exist, being turned into thick pulp as it splatters the wall behind him. You work the pump, not taking a moments’ break as you stand back up with some effort and aim the shotgun at Sofia again.

As expected, her demeanor has changed entirely. She looks at you with fear in her eyes, no, more like confusion, as you stand there with the shotgun. The smell of smoke fills your nostrils as you glance around the room. The oil lamp that had been knocked down caught a bookcase on fire, which is now burning quite intensely. The floor around it is also burning.

“Please! Let me go!” Sofia shrinks back.

You just shake your head. “No,” you reply. And with that, you pull the trigger. The shotgun kicks into your shoulder, as what you assume is 00 buck leaves the barrel. It hits Maria Sofia right below her right eye, splitting her head in two and sending viscera all over the marble of the fireplace mantle. And like that, it’s over.

You fall to your knees, exhausted. The smoke from the study burning is enough to make it hard to breathe. The fire having spread to another bookcase, as well as the wallpaper. Flames already lick the ceiling. You feel a hand tug at your shoulder. “Allen…” Anya coughs as she speaks. “Allen, I don’t think I need to remind you that these old mansions are full of flammable material. This place is coming down.” You look back at her to see a tired expression on her face.

>”We’re on the first floor, right?” (break a window and escape through it)
>”Where in the mansion are we?” (try to escape through the mansion)
>”I need to get my things. Where’s the trophy room?”
>Write-in.

>>1052289
>I need to get my things. Where’s the trophy room?”

>>1052289
>”Where in the mansion are we?” (try to escape through the mansion)
I doubt we or her would be able to get through a broken window without shredding ourselves.

>>1052289
>”I need to get my things. Where’s the trophy room?”
Pickup from the roof?

>oil lamp
Y THO!

>>1052289
>>”I need to get my things. Where’s the trophy room?”
And then
>”We’re on the first floor, right?” (break a window and escape through it)

>>1052328
>Y THO!
Sofia was a turbo-hipster when it came to home decor. And because fire hazards make everything more dramatic.

>>1052289
>>”I need to get my things. Where’s the trophy room?”
So she didn't seriously expect Allan to have regained full control of his body, thought that the Tethers were still inside?

“I need to get my things,” you say. “Can’t be expecting to hoof it without boots. Where’s the trophy room?”

She sighs, looking at you with a small scowl. “If your things are really that important to you…” She coughs from the smoke. “The trophy room is through that door.” She points to a doorway between two bookcases that have yet to catch on fire. You help her to her feet and you both walk over to the room, opening the door.

It looks more like a police evidence lockup than a trophy room, though you suppose that is to be expected. “Which one of these lockers has my things in it?”

“The one closest to the door, seeing as you were the most recent subject with any notable personal effects.” She points to a locker right next to you.

You open it to find your dress blues hanging in the back, with your communicator and pistol on a small shelf. Grabbing the pistol first, you tuck it into the waistband of your pants. Then you grab your jacket and throw it over yourself hastily, pocketing your communicator. You then pull your socks on and get your boots on over them, making sure that they’re still properly laced.

“What else is in here?” You gesture to the other lockers.

“Not much,” she replies. “Only the artifacts that Sofia deemed most interesting.”

“Of course that’s the way she’d catalog it,” you reply with a sigh. You look out through the door to see the flames beginning to grow. Smoke has begun to pour into the trophy room, making you and Anya cough.

“Allen, I would suggest that we get out of here as soon as possible. The fire’s probably already spread to other rooms by now.”

>”Right. We’ll break one of those picture windows and escape through it. It’s the fastest way out.”
>”Do you think there’s a clear escape route through the mansion?”
>”Hold up. I want to see what other things are here. Could be something useful.”
>Write-in.

>>1052457
>”Do you think there’s a clear escape route through the mansion?”
It would be kinda disappointing to burn to death because we were greedy right now.

>>1052457
>>”Right. We’ll break one of those picture windows and escape through it. It’s the fastest way out.”
Go go go

>>1052463
It's not greedy, we just have to get our shit.

>>1052457
>”Right. We’ll break one of those picture windows and escape through it. It’s the fastest way out."
I don't want to get our dress blues smoke damaged.

Must resist temptation to loot...

>>1052457
>>”Right. We’ll break one of those picture windows and escape through it. It’s the fastest way out.”

>>1052457
>>”Right. We’ll break one of those picture windows and escape through it. It’s the fastest way out.”

>>1052463
>”Right. We’ll break one of those picture windows and escape through it. It’s the fastest way out.”

>>1052457
>Out the windows
>"Geronimo."

>>1052282
>>1052289
Gotta admit, I did not expect to be able to kill her in the next two posts, let alone the next thread.

>”Right. We’ll break one of those picture windows and escape through it. It’s the fastest way out.”
Bet she has a pool somewhere.....

>>1052565
Although this probably puts us on somebody's shitlist. Better watch out who we bring with us from here on.

>>1052572
We're gonna fire a torpedo volley on the mansion after this right? While we're at it, blow up whatever is at the north pole or something, don't even investigate it.

File: The fire's a lot bigger t(...).jpg (128 KB, 958x722)

128 KB JPG

“Let’s find something heavy,” you begin, walking back into the study. “We’re going to break one of these picture windows and escape that way.”

You pick up a heavy-looking ashtray made of marble, finding that it is indeed heavy. With as much force as you can muster, you chuck it at the window, shattering it. Behind you, the fire begins to roar with new intensity from the added oxygen. You walk up to the windowsill and break out any remaining shards that could hurt you when you climb out.

“You first,” you gesture for Anya to climb through the window. She groans as you help her through slowly, careful to avoid touching her makeshift bandage. After she makes it through to the other side, you climb through as well, feeling satisfaction as your boots touch the turf. “Let’s get going.” You point in the direction of the city.

The two of you begin walking, and you look back once you’re a good distance from the mansion. The entire side of it has become engulfed in flames. It’ll likely be gone in a few minutes. Good riddance, you think to yourself.

As you look over at Anya with a tired smile, it starts to rain. Just a sprinkle at first, but it grows into a steady pattern that drenches the both of you. You begin to laugh as the soothing sensation of the rain hitting you cools you off. Thank goodness your communicator is waterproof.

That reminds you, as soon as you can get to a place where you aren’t getting rained on, you need to call the ship. “Anya, do you know of any places near here where we can get out of this rain for a few minutes?”

She looks at you tiredly. “Yeah… There’s an old geothermal power plant a couple of miles from here. Been abandoned for half a century. We can stop there to get out of the rain.”

You both begin walking in that direction when you hear a noise. The sound of jet engines whining over the wind. Then, almost out of nowhere, a spotlight turns on and begins scanning the area around the mansion.

“Militias?” You raise an eyebrow as you look up.

File: Sgt. Hendricks OD gear.jpg (352 KB, 1200x1393)

352 KB JPG

“No…” Anya frowns, looking up. “They use old tilt-rotors, not jet-powered transports.” She winces as the spotlight falls over the both of you. “It’s the Marines,” she yells as the whine of jets gets louder. You put a hand up to shield yourself as the transport craft touches down and the door opens up.

A squad of marines jumps out, wearing their olive drab battle armor. You hear orders being shouted over the engine noise as the marines begin to fan out around the two of you. Knowing what this must look like, you drop the shotgun and raise your hands wearily. Anya leans against you, making a tired noise.

One of the marines, likely the squad leader, approaches you with his rifle at the ready. However, you realize from the way the armor fits that this is a female marine. She removes her helmet, eyes wide as she recognizes you.

“Allen?” Sergeant Sarah Hendricks stands in front of you, looking like she’s seen a ghost.

>>1052598
SARGE! BABY! I MISSED YA!

File: 1471218517808.jpg (779 KB, 1200x903)

779 KB JPG

And that's it for tonight's session! We'll be running around the same time tomorrow, assuming there are no delays.

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pz-TZPzA0mc

How long do you think Allen was missing?

>>1052608
Quite a while, maybe upwards of a month or two. Or, you could be trolling me, and he could've just been gone for about a day or two.

>>1052608
About a week or so

>>1052608
A week probably

>>1052608
Like a week, maybe 2 at most. Probably less that one.

>>1052608
It is only the day after the party. No-one believes him about the kidnapping and they think he just went on a bender. Cynthia signs him up for a program.

>>1052608

Less than a week. Longer and he'd be dead from experiments and an inability to escape from probable lack of food.

>>1052711
Well. I would have to agree on different terms. I would say less than a week

File: Federal Marines.jpg (136 KB, 1272x715)

136 KB JPG

After Sarah got a corpsman to take care of Anya, she sat a while with you in the transport. You sit opposite her, next to Anya, as it lifts off sluggishly. The other marines eye you with a mix of curiosity and unease.

“Allen,” Sarah finally speaks up. She speaks quietly, to avoid waking Anya, who is now asleep from the pain meds the corpsman gave her. “What the hell happened back there?”

You shake your head, still trying to make sense of all of it. “Is it okay if I don’t talk about it right now?”

She sighs, rubbing her eyes. Her demeanor is totally different than you remember, far more hardened and professional. “You were missing for twelve days. Your crew went to the local police first, but they weren’t able to turn up any leads…” She looks away, grimacing. “It got so bad that your lieutenant got in contact with some old buddies that happened to be aboard the Geomancer. There were marine patrols looking for you, and they still didn’t find anything.” She looks at you and you just now realize that her eyes are a little bit red. “We all thought the worst had happened.” Twelve days? Had your sense of time really been that skewed? You must’ve either not remembered things, or been unconscious a lot more than you thought.

“Sorry,” you say simply. “The whole situation is complicated, and I don’t know if it’s safe to tell you everything.”

Sarah sighs, putting her helmet back on. “Fair enough. We’re en-route to the local police precinct. They’re the ones in charge of the investigation, so we’ve been ordered to drop you off with them so they can notify your crew.”

“Sarge,” someone from the cockpit calls back. “We’ve got a call from HQ. For the team-leader’s ears only.”

“Right,” she nods, standing up. She looks back at you as she moves up to the cockpit. “Give me a few minutes.”

You sit in silence as Hendricks talks over the radio in the cockpit. “S’cuse me, sir?” One of the marines, a lance-corporal, speaks up. “Are you the fighter pilot that the Sarge keeps mentioning?”

“That’d be me,” you reply tiredly.

“It’s an honor, sir,” the young man sticks out a hand for you to shake. “Not every day we get to meet a war hero.”

You shake his hand. “I wouldn’t use the term ‘hero’ to describe me,” you say bluntly. “I was just trying to get by and do the job, same as anyone.”

“With all due respect, sir,” the marine continues. “You saved the lives of over a thousand marines on Pallus. That makes you a hero in my book.”

You’re about to say something when Sergeant Hendricks returns to the main cabin, a stern expression on her face. “We’ve been re-routed. Our new destination is the temporary planetside HQ for the Geomancer’s marine detachment.” She frowns. “They didn’t tell me why.”

File: Maj. Cole.jpg (918 KB, 1440x2560)

918 KB JPG

-THIRTY MINUTES LATER-

The transport touches down on the tarmac at the temporary HQ, an old Federal Navy office. When the door opens, you see that despite the heavy rain, the pale blue of the coming dawn is beginning to stain the horizon in the distance. You wake up Anya and gesture to the building in front of you. “We’re at the marine HQ,” you say.

Sarah is the first to step out of the helicopter, walking up to a team of medics with a gurney. She yells something at them over the whine of the engines, then returns to the two of you as the rest of her team dismounts and heads toward the building.

“The doctors are going to take her and have a look at her wounds,” she says loudly. The engines are beginning to whir down, but they’re still loud enough to require shouting.

“Then I’m going with her,” you say insistently. Quite frankly, you don’t trust the Federal Military with her.

“No can do,” she says apologetically. “You’ve been requested to head inside with the MPs.” She stops you from saying something in response. “I’ll keep an eye on her. You have my word.”

With that, the doctors help Anya onto the gurney and you dismount the transport. Standing there are two MPs, looking as scary as they always have to you. “Sir, we need you to follow us,” one of them says.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in what looks like an impromptu interrogation room. You can tell that it used to be an office, though all the niceties have been removed in favor of a table and two steel chairs. You sit there for at least an hour, assuming the clock on the wall isn’t slow or fast, before the sound of the door opening catches your attention.

“Good morning,” a tired-looking man in olive-drab fatigues enters the room. He’s a lot less clean-shaven than any marine you’ve seen, and though he looks relatively young, his demeanor reminds you of a much older person. He sits down in front of you, producing a water bottle and two paper cups. “My name’s Major Tim Cole. I’m with the MP contingent here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, making an apologetic smile. “Want some water?”

>”I’d love some.”
>”No thanks.”
>”Are you here to interrogate me about what happened at the mansion?”
>”Where’s Anya?”
>”Does my crew know where I am?”
>Write-in.

>>1054004
>”I’d love some.”
>”Does my crew know where I am?”

>>1054004
>”I’d love some.”
>"Does my crew know where I am?”
>”Are you here to interrogate me about what happened at the mansion?”

It's weird we didn't use our communicator during that hour. It wasn't taken, was it?

>>1054004

”I’d love some
Are you here to interrogate me about what happened at the mansion

>>1054025
>It's weird we didn't use our communicator during that hour. It wasn't taken, was it?
For some reason, it doesn't get any service inside the building.

>>1054004
>”I’d love some.”
>”Does my crew know where I am?”
>”Are you here to interrogate me about what happened at the mansion?”

>>1054004
>”Are you here to interrogate me about what happened at the mansion?”
>”Where’s Anya?”
>”Does my crew know where I am?”

>>1054052
Man, I can't think of any good half puns about Sofia. I'm kinda sad.

>>1054004
>”Are you here to interrogate me about what happened at the mansion?”
>”Does my crew know where I am?”
>”Where’s Anya?”

>>1054004
>”I’d love some.”
"Why I'm I here? I've been through hell and I just want to see my crew"

File: Tim Cole.png (594 KB, 1600x667)

594 KB PNG

“I’d love some,” you nod. Major Cole pours some out into the paper cup, gesturing for you to take it.

You grab the cup and down it in a single go, sighing with relief. The major raises an eyebrow, but is otherwise unreadable. “Now, Captain Starwind…” He leans forward, seemingly ready to get down to business. “I must admit, you’ve been a tough man to find over the past week and a half.”

“Does my crew know I’m here?” You completely ignore his statement, focusing on your main concern at the moment.

Cole nods tiredly. “We’ve sent a messenger to your ship. He should be arriving soon.” He leans back, crossing his arms. “I can see that you care about your crew, that’s a good trait to have. You’ll be able to get out of here once we get our business out of the way and have one of our doctors check you out.”

“What exactly is out business here?” You frown at the man. “Are you going to interrogate me about what happened in the mansion?”

He sighs, closing his eyes tiredly. “We’re going to corroborate some details. We already questioned the young woman who was picked up with you.” He rubs the back of his neck. “First off, were you kidnapped on the night of the party at Dr. Sofia’s mansion?”

“Yes,” you reply bluntly. There’s no reason for you to lie, you suppose.

“And after that, they conducted experiments on you. Who was it that helped you get free?” His eyes narrow, and you can tell that he’s looking for exactly the right response.

“The woman I was picked up with,” you reply.

Cole nods. “Good, good. That’s what I was hoping to hear. After we picked you up, a team was sent to the mansion to investigate it.” He looks disturbed as he says the next part. “By the time I got there, the fire was out. We discovered a hidden doorway that led down into a sub-basement. I think you know what we found down there.”

You nod, grimacing. “It’s the place where they held me.”

He leans forward again. “And it was a place where they conducted countless human experiments. We found the research files. The fires didn’t even touch the labs.” He looks away in disgust. “We’re currently conducting a manhunt for Dr. Sofia. Still, I know that the woman we have in custody was her assistant…” He looks at you with a very serious expression. “If that woman was to face trial, she’d likely be put to death for her crimes. But I don’t think killing her would be a prudent course of action, despite the grisly nature of her research.”

>”Manhunt? Dr. Sofia is dead.”
>”Why do you want to keep Anya alive so badly, so that you can use her research for yourselves?”
>”Why bother with interrogating me if you already had the files?”
>Write-in.

>>1054126
>”Manhunt? Dr. Sofia is dead.”
>”Why do you want to keep Anya alive so badly, so that you can use her research for yourselves?”

>>1054126
>”Manhunt? Dr. Sofia is dead.”
>”Why do you want to keep Anya alive so badly, so that you can use her research for yourselves?”

>>1054126
>”Why do you want to keep Anya alive so badly, so that you can use her research for yourselves?”
>”Why bother with interrogating me if you already had the files?”
I want to say Sofia's dead so we can make a shitty half a mind pun, but she was defenseless. So saying we killed her would be admitting to murder.

>>1054150
We practically killed her in self defence. There was a guy with a rifle there.

>>1054159
He was dead before her though.

>>1054126
>”Manhunt? Dr. Sofia is dead.”
>”Why do you want to keep Anya alive so badly, so that you can use her research for yourselves?”

>>1054150
If it came up in court we can always say we were concerned that there were still control markers in us and didn't want to fall under her sway again

>>1054126

Manhunt? Dr. Sofia is dead.”

File: Major Cole investigating (...).jpg (227 KB, 1920x800)

227 KB JPG

“Manhunt?” You frown, leaning forward. “Dr. Sofia is dead.”

Major Cole raises his eyebrows for a moment, seemingly surprised. “Are you sure, did you see it happen yourself?”

“I did,” you say.

He then frowns. “You must’ve been delirious or something then. We only found two bodies at the complex. Both males, in their mid to late 30’s.” He deposits a manila folder on the table, gesturing for you to look through it. You open it to see one of the suited goons, laying on a tile floor with a chunk taken out of his torso. “The first was found in the sub-basement with a belly full of buckshot.” He points to a photo below it. You move the one on top to see a nightmarish view of a horrifically charred corpse missing the top half of its head. “The other was found in what used to be the study. Looks like his barber took a little too much off the top,” he grins ever so slightly at you. “I’m assuming this was the weapon?” He gently sits the shotgun you were carrying earlier on the table, scooting it toward you.

“So you only found two bodies?” You look at the photos wide-eyed. “Is it possible that a third body could be hidden under debris?”

“We searched that place with a fine-toothed comb,” he replies confidently. “I was present for most of the cleanup, which is why I was late getting here.” He frowns at you. “No other bodies to speak of.”

You sigh, leaning back with a scowl on your face. “Alright. So why are you so keen on keeping Anya alive? Do your superiors want her for her research?”

“Research?” He looks at you slyly. “No. I want her alive in case Dr. Sofia makes a resurgence and we have to combat her. I know that Anya was the catalyst for all of this, so I figure that she can be relied on if we have to develop some kind of defense against the Doctor’s grisly plans.” He winks at you. “Besides, the research all burned up in that fire.” He then leans forward and whispers in your ear. “I don’t trust anyone with research like that. Especially not the Federal Military. I’m having it all destroyed as we speak.”

“Then what are you going to do with Anya?” You frown. “You can’t just keep her from seeing trial for what happened.”

Cole looks at you, still grinning. “Like I said, there aren’t any surviving research records. Meaning that there’s no record of her involvement. As far as anyone beyond my unit knows, Anya Kowalski never stepped foot in that mansion.”

>”So what do I tell people who ask what happened there?”
>”What’s going to happen to Anya then? People will suspect that something's up.”
>”I really just want to see my crew.”
>”I’m telling you. Sofia. Is. dead.”
>”What about the facility at the North Pole? I was under the impression that Sofia was involved with them in some way.”
>Write-in.

>>1054256
>”I’m telling you. Sofia. Is. dead.”
>”What about the facility at the North Pole? I was under the impression that Sofia was involved with them in some way.”
Wow, this guy's actually a pretty cool dude. I like him.

>>1054256
>>”I’m telling you. Sofia. Is. dead.”
>>”What about the facility at the North Pole? I was under the impression that Sofia was involved with them in some way.”

>>1054256
>”What’s going to happen to Anya then? People will suspect that something's up.”
>”What about the facility at the North Pole? I was under the impression that Sofia was involved with them in some way.”

>>1054256

”So what do I tell people who ask what happened there

>>1054256
>”So what do I tell people who ask what happened there?”
>”What about the facility at the North Pole? I was under the impression that Sofia was involved with them in some way.”

No body, no proof, she's a damn slippery bitch

>>1054256
>>>”So what do I tell people who ask what happened there?”
>>”What about the facility at the North Pole? I was under the impression that Sofia was involved with them in some way.”

File: Anya.png (165 KB, 506x360)

165 KB PNG

“What about the facility at the North Pole? I was under the impression that Sofia was involved with them.” You cross your arms.

Major Cole nods. “We found financial ties, yes…” He looks like he’s trying to find the right words. “I had a recon team sent up there via sub-orbital drop when we started out investigation at the mansion. You’re not going to believe what we found.” He grimaces. “There wasn’t anything there. No facility, no signs that anything was ever there. Telomere Industries is a company that exists purely on paper.”

“A shell corporation,” you say.

“Indeed,” Cole continues. “We traced their finances back to their ‘home offices’, a storage closet in a large office building with many different tenants.” He rubs his eyes tiredly. “Telomere doesn’t exist. Probably never has. We even ran their employee list through a database. The names are all fake.”

You swallow nervously. “That’s sketchy.”

Cole nods. “It gets weirder. There’s another reason that I don’t think the Doctor is dead. This morning, around an hour after the mansion burned down, all of the company’s financial assets were drained into a series of proxy accounts, then withdrawn.”

“So at the very least, someone cleared out all of Telomere’s money,” you say.

“And I’m certain that someone is Dr. Sofia. We don’t know of any other real person with a connection to Telomere.”

You’re about to say something when there’s a knock at the door. It opens slightly and a young marine sticks his head in. “Sir, you told me to get you once the doctors were done with Miss Kowalski. They’ve finished the operation, sir.”

“Thanks,” he nods. “You’re dismissed.” He then stands, gesturing for you to follow him. “Come on, let’s go tell the girl what we’ve talked about.”

The two of you quickly head downstairs to the medbay, where you find Anya sitting upright in a hospital bed, looking much less pale. The doctor on hand walks up to the two of you. “Sirs, we just finished removing the bullet, stitching her up, and giving a blood transfusion.” He nods at her. “She’ll be up and walking later today.”

“Thanks,” Cole nods. He then gestures for you to go over to Anya. You walk over and she smiles warmly at you.

“I can see why people call you a hero all the time,” she says. “You don’t just talk the talk, you walk the walk.” She rubs her eyes. “I’m not really used to people actually doing the right thing. It’s... refreshing.”

>Write-in.

>>1054445
>Write-in.

I wish they would stop calling me that, makes people think that these actions are special and out of reach for them instead of just the right thing to do. Thank you though

>>1054445
I'm not a hero, never have been, never will be. So how you feeling?

Make some small talk until we lay out the doc might not be dead somehow. Then ask if she saw what we saw?

>>1054445
I wouldn't say i'm a hero, just someone who tries to do the right thing. Though that does tend to land me in some sticky situations.

I agree with >>1054497 with just chatting with her and if she is sticking with the marines that Sergeant Sarah is a good person so she should be in good hands.

The Sergeant has it already but we could also give Anya our contact information in case something pops up.

I've got a birthday party to go to. I'll be back in a couple of hours probably.

>>1054569

See you then

File: Anya1.png (818 KB, 1920x1080)

818 KB PNG

“I wouldn’t call myself a hero,” you reply. “It’s all about taking the initiative to do what you think is right. Anyone can do it.” You grin sheepishly. “Though doing the right thing tends to land me in hot water more often than not.”

“But still,” Anya persists. “You make it look so easy… And cool.” She leans forward a little bit, smiling.

You rub the back of your neck. “Well anyway, thanks,” you say. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” she nods. “I still feel exhausted, but at least I’m stable now.”

“That’s good.” You look back at Cole. “Major, I’m thinking we should go ahead and tell her what we talked about.”

He frowns, nodding at you. “Could everyone else clear out?” He looks around at the few orderlies and doctors milling about the sickbay. “We’ve got some confidential information to go over.” With that, they quietly shuffle out, closing the door behind them.

You both pull up chairs and sit near her bed. “Anya,” you begin hesitantly. “Major Cole says they didn’t find Dr. Sofia’s body in the mansion.”

She looks at you with confusion, then fear. “W-what do you mean? We saw her die there.”

“I know,” you reply with a grimace. “But there’s evidence that someone withdrew all of the funds from the Telomere Corporation’s bank account about an hour after we escaped.”

Cole rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose someone could’ve snuck her body out for some reason. If she was involved with genetics, maybe someone wanted her biometrics and DNA.” He shrugs. “Would explain why we didn’t find the body. There’s a possibility of a co-conspirator what we don’t know about.” He gestures for you to continue.

“Anyway, Major Cole says that all of the research documents were destroyed,” you wink. “Meaning that there’s nothing linking you to the whole affair.”

“I see,” she nods. “So I’m free?”

Cole nods. “Though I would appreciate it if you would join up with us as a civil contractor. We could use your expertise if we encounter anything like this again.” He leans back casually. “It’s entirely up to you though, I can’t force you on this.”

You look over at her. “So what are you going to do?” Yawning, you realize how tired you’ve gotten. “It’s not every day that a person gets to start over like this.”

Anya’s cheeks go red and she looks away. “Well… I’d really like to go wherever you go,” she says quietly. “I feel like that’s the safest place I could be.”

>”I don’t think you should come with me. The only open staterooms on my ship are for passengers right now.”
>”Okay.”
>”I think you should join up with the marines. The Sergeant that picked us up is a good friend of mine. She’s trustworthy.”
>”Are you sure that’s what you want? You barely even know me.”
>Write-in.

>>1055177
>>”Are you sure that’s what you want? You barely even know me.”

>>1055177
>”Are you sure that’s what you want? You barely even know me.”
Man, I wish I had 1/10th the game Allen does. He literally doesn't try.

>>1055177
>>”Are you sure that’s what you want? You barely even know me.”

>>1055177
>”Are you sure that’s what you want? You barely even know me.”
"And I am a spacer, not known for our stable or peaceful line of work."
"Look, if you really want my advice on it, I would say sign on as a civilian contractor, if she really is still out there someone needs to know how to combat her. But I'll give you my comm information so that we can stay in touch, and like I said, I'm a spacer I am sure I can organize my flightpaths so that we cross each other again, multiple times even."

Seriously though, I didn't expect to feel conflicted with this but she went through hell to save our life

>>1055202
Well this is kind of a special case.
Also he's /fit/ incarnate.

File: Spoiler Image (109 KB, 640x480)

109 KB JPG

>>1055216
Oh, she's been looking at his dick. What a degenerate pervert responsible scientist.

>>1055177
>>”Are you sure that’s what you want? You barely even know me.”

>>1055177
>”I think you should join up with the marines. The Sergeant that picked us up is a good friend of mine. She’s trustworthy.”
Aren't we about to head into a possible alien space wizard coup? Not all that safe.

What if Anya is actually Sofia?

>write in.
Lets ask her if she knows if any of the experiments conducted, can cause us to see illusions and things not really as they are, or there.

File: Anya2.jpg (40 KB, 520x260)

40 KB JPG

You sigh, weighing the possibilities. You can tell by the way she acts that she’s never even been aboard a starship before, let alone under the kind of conditions you often find yourselves. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” You frown apologetically at her. “I mean, you barely even know me.”

She seems confused by your statement. “What do you mean?”

“Well for one, I’m a spacer,” you begin. “It’s not an easy life. We’re always on the move, following work. It’s dangerous and rough, and the conditions are often far less than ideal.” You cross your arms. “And I’m not exactly the sort of person you think I am. You’ve got this idea that I’m some hero, when I’m really just like most anyone else. I do things because I think they’re the right thing, but I make mistakes. And I’ve made some huge mistakes in the past.”

Major Cole speaks up. “He’s right you know,” he says. “Spacers live hard lives. They’ve got to be tough as nails.”

You nod at him, then continue. “Look, if you decide to stay here with the Marines, I’ll give you my contact information so that you can keep in touch with me.” You frown, trying to find the right words. “And I’ve got a friend in the marine contingent here. Sergeant Hendricks, the woman who picked us up this morning.” You lean forward. “She’s trustworthy. Besides, the Marines could use a defense against these control tethers in case Sofia somehow isn’t dead. Besides, the Marines can keep you safer than I can.” You shrug, looking over at Cole who nods.

“Miss, I think the Captain is saying that you should think this over more before you make the decision to run away aboard a starship.” Cole frowns slightly. “And I honestly agree with him. It’s a big decision.”

“Look,” you say. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths again. Probably many times.” With a sigh, you lean back, rubbing your eyes. “So I just want you to be sure about your decision.”

Anya frowns, looking at you, then Cole. “Perhaps I should stay around here. If Sofia is still around, she’s still going to be scheming, and someone needs to stop her when the time comes.” She nods at you with determination. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep everyone safe. And if joining the Marines will keep people safe, that’s what I’ll do.” She salutes the both of you, incorrectly you might add.

Major Cole chuckles a little bit at her display of determination. “Well, miss. You aren’t going to be a ranking soldier or anything, so you won’t be needing to salute anyone.”

She looks back at you. “Still, all you have to do is say the word, and I’d be glad to join up with your crew. I really wouldn’t mind working aboard a starship and doing… Starship things for a living.”

>”Fine. Meet me at the docks by sunset.”
>”I really do think you’d be better off with the Marines.”

>>1055369

>Write-In

We'll be in touch and who knows what the future holds. Seriously, thank you for getting me out of there.

>>1055369
>>”I really do think you’d be better off with the Marines.”
It's not like I don't enjoy your company, and I don't think being friends is an impossibility, but.... I don't have much space left on my ship, I promised a cabin to a girl back on another planet, and I don't think you'll be one for the Spacer life.

>>1055369
>>1055381
I'll support this.
I don't trust her at all.

>>1055387

To be honest I am with you there, giving our contact information out is a good way to keep tabs on her though

>>1055369
>>”Fine. Meet me at the docks by sunset.”
I will take this chance.

>>1055402
Anon pls

And it's not even that I don't trust her

It's just that we promised a spot to the girl back on the Emp world

And if we take them both

We can't take passengers.

>>1055369
>”Fine. Meet me at the docks by sunset.”
Originally I thought she should stay, but i'm sure we could put her to use somehow.

>>1055381
I'll support this so
>Meet me at the docks
doesn't win.

>>1055369
>I really do think you’d be better off with the Marines.

>>1055369
This >>1055381

>>1055369
>>”Fine. Meet me at the docks by sunset.”

>>1055381
Supporting

>>1055369
>>1055381
this

File: Cynthia4.jpg (106 KB, 564x589)

106 KB JPG

“We’ll be in-touch,” you say simply. “Who knows what the future holds?”

“Right,” she says. “In the meantime, I’ll do whatever I can to help people.” Anya leans forward, smiling. “It’s the least I can do to make up for the things I’ve allowed to happen up until now.”

You nod slowly. “Seriously. Thank you for saving my life.” You hold out a hand and she shakes it gently.

Cole speaks up next. “Well, the job offer stands. I can make sure it pays well.”

Anya nods politely. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Major. It’ll be good to give back to the world in any way I can.”

Cole looks like he’s about to say more, but there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” he calls.

“Sir, the mechanic from that captain’s ship just showed up.” The same marine from earlier pokes his head in.

“Can you keep her in the lobby or something?” Cole turns around, seemingly worried.

“The other crew members agreed to stay in the lobby, sir, but she wouldn’t have any of it!” The marine sounds frantic as he is pushed out of the way. Replacing him is your mechanic, looking disheveled and tired, with bloodshot eyes and drooping shoulders. She wears the gray coveralls you're used to, and her hair is tied messily back out of her face.

Cynthia walks into the room without saying a word, her eyes never leaving you. She stops just short of you, reluctantly putting a hand out toward you, almost as if testing to make sure you’re really there. Cole looks over at you with a worried expression.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” She sounds like she’s about to cry.

>Write-in.

>>1055573
It's not your fault, Sofia planned it out well. Apparently spiked the whiskey with nanomachines. There was nothing you could have done Cynthia.

>>1055573

Give her a hug

>>1055573
>Hug the poor girl.

>>1055590

>This

>>1055590
>>1055598
Supportin'

>>1055573
These >>1055590 >>1055598
I'm just glad everyone is safe.

>>1055590
Supporting this

We're not gonna have AnYA REMOVE THE TELOMETERES FROM US OR GIVE US ANY COUNTERS TO IT?

sorry typing 1 hand hit caps.

You stand up, taking a step toward Cynthia and wrapping your arms around her. She exhales tiredly as you bring her in for a hug. “You don’t need to be sorry,” you say. “There wasn’t anything you could’ve done. Sofia had everything planned from the beginning.” You don’t break the embrace, merely standing there as she begins to sob into your shoulder.

“I was supposed to look after you,” she mutters.

“It’s alright,” you reply. “I’m okay. We’re all okay.” You run a hand over her hair, sighing.

She looks up at you, wiping her eyes. “I… We all thought…” She looks away. “I mean, even when Tom told us to keep holding on… Virgo said he couldn’t sense you…”

“I’m here now,” you say again. “Things could’ve turned out so much worse.”

You feel her hand press into your side as she steps back. “You’ve lost some weight…” She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Well, I’m assuming I didn’t eat properly while I was in and out of consciousness,” you smirk.

“I suppose that makes sense,” she nods. “I guess Miss Sofia wasn’t a very gracious host.” She smirks just a little bit.

“Well, she learned to regret it,” you smirk back, making a finger gun.

Cynthia steps back from you, gesturing to the door. “The rest of the crew, save for Solfrid and Samantha anyway, are downstairs in the lobby.”

You look over at Cole, who nods toward the door. “I’m sure you’ve kept your crew waiting long enough,” he says.

You take a second to write your contact info on a small slip of paper and hand it to Anya. Then you and Cynthia both walk toward the door, taking a look at each other before leaving the room. Cynthia smiles at you as the pair of you walk down the hallway. “Let’s go home, Allen.”

>>1055783

Cynthia best girl

File: 1457326315259.jpg (911 KB, 1024x768)

911 KB JPG

And that's it for tonight's session! I'll probably run a short session tomorrow to finish the thread.

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Swxw2t-9ir4

What do you guys think the deal is with the missing body of Maria Sofia?

>>1055799
We shot the guy who was found dead by headshot, she tricked us, somehow.

Her partner of Loyal minion took it to Lazarus pool her.

File: Regenerating.png (1.08 MB, 1280x1422)

1.08 MB PNG

>>1055799
Regeneration

>>1055799
I figure she had regeneration like that one spooky guy that got on to our ship from the Wale, seeing as she created him, maybe. How she might have survived a shotgun to the head I dunno. Maybe her brain was not in her head.

>>1055759
Dr Sofia said the tethers wear down after a while and have to be replaced.

File: Are you SURE about that.gif (5.74 MB, 720x404)

5.74 MB GIF

>>1055835
>seeing as she created him

>>1055851
>inb4 siblings

>>1055835
But we drank a cup of water.....

>>1055177
>”Okay.”
>”Are you sure that’s what you want? You barely even know me.”
We can do with a medical professional onboard

>>1055799
Sofia is a brain in a jar controlling a clone body through tethers. It was her voice we heard when the tethers commanded us.

>>1056976
Maybe Sofia was a cross dresser.

>>1056976
That's good, space lich. But why is the body gone?

>>1057300
It got up and walked away.
We blasted its brain, but it didn't need it.

File: Abraxis and escorts.jpg (606 KB, 1686x1032)

606 KB JPG

You look out through the shuttle window in awe. The Abraxis looks nothing like it did when it pulled into port after that botched patrol. They’ve not only repaired the vessel entirely, but apparently upgraded her significantly. “Would you look at that,” you mutter as the shuttle comes closer. The Abraxis, being the largest battlecruiser in the Federal fleet, can’t land on planets for repairs.

“Yeah,” Warwick says as he peers out through his window. He’s sitting in the row directly in front of you, but you don’t have any problems talking with him. “I guess they’ve re-worked pretty much everything aboard. And they gave it a paintjob.” He chuckles to himself. “I wouldn’t have chosen blue, but I suppose that’s the Navy for you.”

“What’s wrong with blue?” Linda speaks up from her seat next to yours.

Warwick looks back at the both of you over his seat. “Oh, nothing really. It’s just that it’s always blue with the Navy. And besides, a warship should be painted red.” He nods sternly. “It’s an appropriately ferocious color for a fighting vessel.”

“Whatever,” she giggles. “I personally think painting it was a waste of money.”

“It’s to cover up all the patchwork they did,” you say seriously as the shuttle gets closer. At this distance it’s obvious how extensive the damage to the ship was before they repaired it. You point to a rather large area of metal plates that have been welded over what used to be a gash in the outer hull. “That kind of stuff doesn’t show up at long distances when they cover it with paint.”

“But why would they care?” She raises an eyebrow at you. “I mean, it’s a navy ship. They get damaged.”

“Aye,” Warwick says. “But battlecruisers aren’t supposed to get damaged. They slap that paint on for the cameras so that the news can pretend we aren’t getting blown to smithereens every now and then.”

The shuttle pulls in to the hangar bay and touches down softly. All fifty of its occupants, you included, grab their duffel bags and head down the ramp.

When you step off, you are greeted by a man in a captain’s uniform, though he’s somebody you’ve never seen before. He stands there with a clipboard in his hands and couple of junior officers at his sides.

“Excuse me, sailors,” he says with a German accent. “I am looking for volunteers. We are looking for anyone with experience piloting star fighters, as well as any experienced co-pilots.” He looks at the fifty of you. “If you wish to hear about what I am offering, please step forward, otherwise, you may make your way to your quarters.” You glance over at Warwick, who shrugs at you.

>Step forward.
>Leave with the others.

>>1057719
>>Step forward.
Literally our specialty

>>1057719
>Step forward.

Seems like what we would do

>>1057719
>Step forward.
We already know it won't end well, so why not.

Also, we'll have to choose between saving Linda or Warwick, I'm calling it.

>>1057719
>>Step forward.

File: Captain Volkmann.png (238 KB, 441x528)

238 KB PNG

You step forward, saluting. “Good afternoon, sir,” you say professionally. “I’m willing to volunteer.” You glance over to see that Warwick, as well as a few others from the shuttle have stepped forward as well.

The captain salutes you back, then extends a hand for you to shake, which you do. “And good afternoon to you, lieutenant.” He then steps back to address the others who stepped up after you. “My name is Captain Ernst Volkmann. I was appointed to command this vessel as of yesterday.” He looks at all of you. “Now I may not look it, but I understand the value of a good squadron of skilled pilots.” He frowns, gesturing for all of you to follow him. “What happened last month was a tragedy. We lost too many good people because of a stupid mistake. You all walk through the hangar, toward the fighter storage bays. “And if all goes the way I plan, we can avoid something like it happening again.”

“Sir, permission to speak freely?” One of the people behind you speaks up.

“Always,” Volkmann replies as he guides you all into the dark storage bay.

“Even with some of the best pilots in the Federal Navy, we got grounded. The Empire’s tactics forced us back into our hangars before we could do anything.”

“That is true,” the Captain stops next to a large bank of light switches, flipping a couple of them on. “Our tactics needed a complete overhaul.” Several lights come on, illuminating the corners of the room. “We take a very old-school approach to our fighters, and the Empire knows this.” He looks back at all of you, then flips the rest of the switches, illuminating the entire bay and showing you a whole squadron of what you assume are prototype fighters. “I want to establish a vanguard force whose purpose is to be ready to sortie at a moment’s notice. Your fighters will be kept in a state that allows them to be launched in about five minutes, and your quarters will be right across from the briefing rooms.” He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow at all of you. “However, the casualty rate will no doubt be higher than regular fighter pilots. And you will be given the missions that no other squadrons can be expected to handle. This is why I am asking for volunteers instead of just recruiting you.”

Warwick leans toward you, whispering. “I’ve heard of this Volkmann guy. Some call him mad, others call him a hero.” He smirks. “Started out as a ground-attack pilot, just like yourself.”

Volkmann frowns at the dozen or so of you before speaking. “So, will you volunteer to be the Abraxis’ knights?” The captain walks down the line of people, directly asking them individually. Some stay, some leave, and eventually the Captain stands in front of you and Warwick. “This is your call, sailor. Nobody will judge you for choosing the safer option.” He nods at you. “So what is your answer?”

>”I’d be glad to, sir.” (accept)
>”I don’t think I will, captain.” (decline)
>”How large of a squadron are you planning on this being, sir?”
>”What can you tell me about those fighters over there? I’ve never seen them before.”
>Write-in.

>>1057719
>Leave with the others.

>>1057811
>”How large of a squadron are you planning on this being, sir?”
>”What can you tell me about those fighters over there? I’ve never seen them before.”

>>1057811
>”How large of a squadron are you planning on this being, sir?”
>”What can you tell me about those fighters over there? I’ve never seen them before.”

>Liam Neeson's the Captain
>He is almost certainly dead
Feels bad man

>>1057811
>>>”How large of a squadron are you planning on this being, sir?”
>>”What can you tell me about those fighters over there? I’ve never seen them before.”

>>1057811
>”How large of a squadron are you planning on this being, sir?”
>”What can you tell me about those fighters over there? I’ve never seen them before.”

I am down but more information is always nice

>>1057811
>”How large of a squadron are you planning on this being, sir?”
>”What can you tell me about those fighters over there? I’ve never seen them before.”

File: Marauder.jpg (401 KB, 836x680)

401 KB JPG

“How large of a squadron are you expecting this to be, sir?” You glance over at the fighters, but can’t tell exactly how many there are.

Volkmann raises an eyebrow at you. “Inquisitive, an underappreciated quality in an officer.” He adjusts his hat before continuing. “I have ordered two dozen fighters for the squadron. So far I have eight volunteers, but you are the first group that I have asked.”

“And what kind of fighters did you order?” You look over at the fighters again, unable to discern the exact model. If you had to guess, you’d say they’re General Dynamics made.

“TK-90 Marauders,” he says with a grin. “They have just come into service within the Navy, but they’ve been with the military for a little over four years in various roles. These ones have been upgraded for our use though, since this squadron’s missions will likely be of a special nature.”

Warwick is the next to speak up. “What kind of weapon systems are they packing, sir?”

“Multipurpose missile bays, tracking chain-guns, rail accelerators, and bomb racks.” The Captain says it as though he’s describing a classic car in his garage. “And everything has been optimized for the crew, meaning that response times should improve significantly over standard-issue models.”

“Interesting,” Warwick nods.

The captain nods in agreement. “I can see you know a thing or two about fighters,” he says. “Is it possible that you were involved in maintenance at some point?”

Warwick chuckles. “Indeed, sir. I was enlisted for a long time before I went through OCS.”

“It’s good to see a man of such experience is considering joining my team.” He looks over at you. “I assume you’re his co-pilot?”

Warwick stifles a laugh. “I’m afraid it’s the other way around, sir,” he says good-naturedly. “I’m the co-pilot.”

“Ah,” Volkmann says with a chuckle. “I apologize for making assumptions.” He then looks back at you. “So can I put your name down in the squadron’s ledger, Lieutenant?”

>”Yes, sir.” (accept)
>”I think I’ll pass. Things are already dangerous enough around here, sir.” (decline)

>>1057885
>>”Yes, sir.” (accept)

>>1057885
>”Yes, sir.” (accept)

>>1057885
>>”Yes, sir.” (accept)

>>1057885
>”Yes, sir.” (accept)

>>1057885
> yes sir
Since we know we need a change in tactics anyway.
Dunno why we don't just shoot the fighters with the big ship though.

>>1057925
They did. Until the enemy fighters blew up the defensive guns anyway.

File: Lt. Warwick.jpg (211 KB, 800x600)

211 KB JPG

“Yes sir,” you salute him.

Volkmann grins, saluting back. “Very good, Lieutenant.” He then frowns slightly, a puzzled look on his face. “Come to think of it, I do not believe I caught your name.”

“Starwind, sir,” you reply. “Allen Starwind.”

Captain Volkmann smiles again, nodding. “Very well, Lieutenant Starwind, you are dismissed.” With that, you and Warwick leave the storage bay, heading back into the hangar. “Interesting guy,” Warwick says as the two of you begin heading toward the pilot quarters.

“Certainly not like the last captain,” you say bluntly. “I don’t think he ever spoke directly to the pilots.”

“Allen, Warwick,” a voice calls to the two of you from across the hanger. You look over to see Linda wearing maintenance coveralls. “It looks like I’ve been reassigned,” she says as she walks up to you. “I’m going to be working on the fighters now. Just got orders to prep some new ones that they’re going to be bringing into service?”

“Marauders?” Warwick looks at her with amusement.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

He looks over at you with a chuckle. “Looks like you’ll be responsible for keeping us flying then, Ensign.” He gives her a friendly punch to the shoulder. “We just volunteered for that squadron.”

The three of you talk for a while as you head to the quarters to get your things squared away. Though you don’t make much of it, you hear the occasional whisper from other crew members about a secret mission coming up soon. Just more gossip, you figure. For now, you just want to focus on keeping everyone safe. Who knows? Maybe once this war is over, you’ll finally be able to stop worrying about that kind of thing.

----

You awaken with a groan, rolling over in your bunk. After getting back to the ship, you fell into bed and decided to take a nap. Yawning, you sit up and realize that you actually feel rested for once. You look over and see your smoke-damaged dress blues draped over your chair, campaign ribbons standing out brightly against the dark fabric. Your eyes go to the empty space at the bottom corner and you look away with a sigh.

You really do need to lay some flowers at the memorial next time you stop over on Earth.

File: Later.jpg (24 KB, 1174x880)

24 KB JPG

And that's going to be it for Episode 14! I'm sorry that today's session didn't consist of much, but I've got a lot of stuff to do tonight. The next thread will be going up about a week from now, on Wednesday.

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61EFOpFSRqk

>>1057982
Thanks for running Zap, I hope I see you Wednesday.

>>1057982

Thanks for running Zap, we'll see you then and I look forward to Alium Werzirds

>>1057982
Thanks for running Zap.

>>1057925
Shooting down fighters has always had a snowball's chance in hell, anon

>>1058017
Why? We are talking about hypothetical space warfare.

>>1058113
In a setting which has been straight up space opera, which convention shows that more often than not operates on WW2 rules

If we're talking about realistic hypothetical space warfare, there wouldn't even be any fighters because lasers would shoot them down the moment they get out of any cover.

Hence, I assume that shooting down fighters has to be an absolute pain in the ass, because if it were easy then they wouldn't even be used

>>1058136
If Children of a Dead Earth meta is realistic enough, a lot of fighters is the way to overhelm any capital ship. But that means A LOT of fighters. And MANY of them will be destroyed. Good thing CoaDE fighters are unmanned.