You are Allen Starwind, a starship captain and veteran of the Great Interstellar War. Your starship is old, yet (mostly) reliable, and you must take on jobs in order to bring in enough cash to keep it flying. Last time, you went back to the Magus Temple, sent Tom on a bodyguard mission, and went back out on the town with your engineer and weapons officer. Good luck, and fair skies.Twitter: https://twitter.com/ZapQMArchive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=StarcallerSome useful Pastebins:The Ship: http://pastebin.com/dUaVH74mFactions: http://pastebin.com/HRxg787x
“Well hello again, son.” The shopkeeper smiles warmly as you, Cynthia, and Corrigan enter his shop. “I see you brought friends.” You point to Cynthia. “This is my engineer.” Then you gesture to Corrigan. “And this is my weapons officer. I figured she might want to come along too.” “Nice to meet you,” Cynthia shakes the shopkeeper’s hand. “I’m Cynthia Thompson.” The shopkeeper raises an eyebrow. “Any relation to the Thompson Tool Company?” She shrugs. “Not as far as I know.” She then gestures to some boxes behind the counter. “My Captain said you had some Oberon parts?” The shopkeeper nods. “Got a refrigerator, a window panel kit, a shutter kit for the bridge, and a targeting computer. Also found a couple odds and ends last night.” “What sort of odds and ends?” She puts her hands on her hips. He points to the back room. “New airlock seals and reactor magnetos.” He shrugs. “I figure they’re something worth mentioning, even though those parts don’t break often.” She nods thoughtfully. “Well, we definitely need a fridge. Can I take a look at it?” The man nods, walking over to a large box and opening the front of it. The fridge looks identical to the one aboard your vessel, just nicer. “Looks like it was never used.” Cynthia kneels in front of it, inspecting the fridge for any problems. After a few seconds, she looks back at you with a thumbs-up. “Looks good. No obvious problems. How much is it?” “800 Standards,” the shopkeeper says casually. “That’s a pretty good deal…” Cynthia nods. “I would recommend getting it. What about the window conversion panels and targeting computer?” The shopkeeper describes in detail the various features of the windowed panels and targeting computer, though when he shows Corrigan the computer, you notice that she doesn’t look that impressed. Cynthia however, seems to like the idea of adding some windows to the hull, saying it might be good for morale, though she says it might not be wise to spend that much money right now. She also mentions that the bridge window shutters might not be worth it for the same reason as the windowed panels. >Buy the fridge. (800)>Buy the targeting computer. (10,000)>Buy the shutters. (6,000)>Buy the hull panels. (10,000)>Write-in.
>>1274835>>Buy the fridge. (800)>Ask Corrigan about the targeting cpu, we need her input.>Ask Cynthia the likelihood of us needing the shutters as well as if we need seals and magnetos.
>>1274835>Buy the fridge. (800)>Buy the targeting computer. (10,000)
>>1274835How much moneys do we have right now?
>>127486540,000 Standards. I'm actually working on updating the pastebins and streamlining our inventory but I'm a lazy piece of shit sometimes.
>>1274875Ok so we cold buy all the things.Hmm mybe we can just paint a rainforest or soace onto the hull insted of putting windows in it
>>1274835>New airlock seals and reactor magnetos.Because spare parts are good, just ask Cynthia. Although I am not sure how your are supposed to replace parts on the reactor.>Ask Corrigan about the targeting cpu, we need her input.>Buy the hull panels. (10,000)For fixing the ship up after we RAM people.Why does everyone want a fridge? I know we need a new coolant pump but why fridge, just to keep perishables in?
>>1274882I assumed the shutters were for blocking solar radiation better than glass. Because clearly the glass on our ship is shitty car windscreen glass.
>>1274889It keeps us fed on long runs.
“Well we’re definitely buying the fridge,” you say. “But I need to talk with my crew for a moment about the other stuff.” You motion for Cynthia and Corrigan to walk toward the front of the store with you. “Right,” the storekeeper says with a nod. “I’ll leave you to it. Feel free to walk up to the counter when you’re ready to buy.” The three of you get out of earshot and you lean in toward both of them, whispering. “So Corrigan,” you begin. “What’s the deal with that targeting computer? You didn’t look too impressed by it.” She nods. “While it is a good model, it is old, and even with its advantages, it throws out a radar field that can be detected very easily. Not to mention our missiles don’t have a long enough range to make the targeting computer worth the money.” She shrugs. “For 5,000 it would be a good deal. But for what he is charging, I would look elsewhere, sir. Especially if you are serious about saving up money to renovate the ship once we reach Mars.” “Noted,” you reply. “Cynthia. What can you tell me about the shutters and spare parts he had in the back?” She frowns. “The way I see it, bridge window shutters are a bit… Too much, for a ship that isn’t in battle regularly anyway. The only reason we’d need them is if the kinetic stand-off barrier was disabled, and I don’t see that happening any time soon.” She rubs the back of her neck tiredly. “And as far as the spare parts go, we already have spare magnetos in the engineering room, and we won’t need new airlock seals unless our airlocks get damaged, which is virtually impossible due to how they’re recessed into the hull.” You nod. “Alright then. Let’s get this over with.” You all walk back to the counter and the shopkeeper walks forward with a smile, putting a shipping tag on the fridge as he does. “Alright then,” he chuckles. “Got the refrigerator tagged for transfer. You want to buy anything else?” >”No thanks.” >Buy the targeting computer. (10,000)>Buy the shutters. (6,000)>Buy the hull panels. (10,000)>Write-in.
>>1274939Nah, if hull panels are the only reasonable thing here we can get them cheaper on Mars if we want spares.
>>1274939>”No thanks.” Trying to save up, ya know?
>>1274939>”No thanks.”Mornin' zap.
“No thanks,” you say as you sit the cash for the fridge on the counter. “The refrigerator will be enough.” “Alright then,” the shopkeeper nods at you. “You three have a nice day then.” “You too,” you reply as the three of you turn around and leave the store. As you all exit the store, another bout of pain hits your rubs, almost causing you to double over. “Are you alright?” Corrigan is the first to speak up as you groan from the pain. “Yeah,” you reply. “I think I might be gaining a tolerance to the pain meds or something.” “It’s only been two days,” Cynthia frowns. “Can you build up a tolerance that quickly?” You nod. “Some synthetic painkillers are like that. I’ll have to switch to over-the-counter stuff as soon as I can.” You stand back to full height, sighing. “But I’m fine now.” “Alright…” Corrigan frowns a little. “So what else is there to do in this town?” “Well,” you begin. “There’s some kind of café across the square, and there’s a bar next to it. And if I remember right, this place is broken up into districts.” You shrug. “Seems like a small town though.” “I see,” she nods. “Is there anything you want to do while we’re here?” >”We could always visit that café.”>”Let’s head over to the bar.” >”I remember hearing about a market district. Let’s visit that.”>”We’ve spent enough time on this planet. Let’s get back to the ship and head out.” >Write-in.
>>1275115>”I remember hearing about a market district. Let’s visit that.”We could get some decent food if it is a market district, I expect.
>>1275115>>”We could always visit that café.”
>>1275115>”I remember hearing about a market district. Let’s visit that.”Eh, as much as I hate these shopping segments other anon has a convincing argument. The meals on the ship seem pretty depressing. Maybe pick up some local liquour.
>>1275115>”I remember hearing about a market district. Let’s visit that.”
>>1275115>>”I remember hearing about a market district. Let’s visit that.”
>>1275115>”We could always visit that café.”I'm hungry.
Sorry about the slow update times tonight. Unfortunately, I'm probably going to have to call this session here because something unexpected came up. We'll run tomorrow afternoon, and hopefully I can have a more regular update schedule then.
>>1275322Well, thanks for the run I guess.
>>1275322Thanks for the run Zap
>>1275322A bit of an unrelated question, Zap: does Cynthia ever wear anything but overalls? And what does Samantha wear? Her old uniform?Also, what are the relative heights of our crew?
>>1275632Cynthia obviously wears her blue mechanic's coveralls most of the time due to her job (wasn't sure if you meant coveralls or overalls, she wears pic related, for clarification). Other than those, she's got a fancy turtleneck dress, some casual clothes, a set of military fatigues with a camo pattern designed to spoof night vision goggles... You know, normal stuff. And Cynthia loaned Samantha some clothes, so she's usually wearing those. As far as heights of the crew? Virgo is definitely tallest, at around 6'7''. Tom is probably around 6'0'' and Allen is probably about 5'9''. Cynthia is just a little bit shorter than Allen, probably like 5'6'', and Solfrid is the smallest at 5'0''. Basically, crew heights are like this. Virgo>[powergap]>Tom>Allen>Cynthia>Samantha=Corrigan>Solfrid Also all of this is subject to change since I'm just making this shit up as I write it. The only things that were set in stone were that Virgo is taller than most humans, and Solfrid is way short, even for a psirinean. Also, holy shit, it feels good to be home. Spent the last two and a half hours pulling my friend's car home.
>>1275115>”I remember hearing about a market district. Let’s visit that.”Whooooo loves haggling? I hope Corrigan is secretly good at it, coming from a merchant (albeit Military Weapons) noble house.She did bring up a counter-offer for the targeting computer that everyone just glossed over as an option.> Offer the dude 4,000 mentioning the fact that it's noisy AND requires high spec missiles.> Merc, Privateer Militant groups with the weaponry to benefit from it would have the funds to buy something better, Merchants, Civvies, and Pirates looking for an edge would be turned off by the ease of detection - either making them simply a bigger and easier target to find and track, or scaring off prey.> Luckily for him we happen to have an Empire Missile weapons specialist on our ship so we are in a unique position to get some benefit from it and take it off his hands. It's probably not even worth 3000 but we realize a man has to eat so we'll do him a favour. Really, between getting 2000 for it or having it take up space while slowly becoming even more obsolete, getting any money for it is a win. After all, it's not like he's using it and if it doesn't sell then it isn't really *worth* even the 1000 credits he could have otherwise. > In fact it's costing him money in storage fees and maintenance,not to mention the time he wastes trying to sell it to customers when he could be moving other product. A 100 credit fee for our services helping him clear up space for new inventory and taking care of the disposal of the targeting unit is pretty cheap when he considers all the shek- er, credits he's already lost from it, and it'll practically literally hypothetically pay back the 200 credit disposal fee right away in saving him credits in the future!> We'll even give him our old fridge tfor free to refurbish and resell!
>>1275648>When you forget the pic relatedI'm dumb sometimes.
>>1275648> Allen is a Manlet Why u do this.Actually for some reason I always imagined Allen and Toms heights reversed. Like Tom would be that guy who is actually slightly shorter at 5'9" but projects his presence in a way that people don't really notice since he's confident and built but not short man jacked.Where as poor Allen is 6'1" and actually looks like a Big Damn Hero - since nobody has commented on him not looking like he lives up to the hype about him.I don't think it would be unreasonable head-canon to think that he's completely unable to see himself that way, given his feelings on being a hero.Also it would explain why Women go for him when Tom is around. Tom has the game, Allen just has that earnest MAN look about him with a touch of wounded vulnerability that makes him approachable as fuck.
>>1275652> Not filling those overalls out
>>1275661Huh. I also forgot the file.
>>1275657Eh, the main reason Allen's height is what it is, is because he was a pilot whereas Tom was originally a Marine who had to change branches. The Federal Navy prioritizes shorter pilots since it lets them build smaller craft. Allen is actually near the cutoff height for pilots. Co-pilots have it a little easier due to more spacious seating arrangements. Almost all Federation co-pilots are marginally taller than their pilots.
>>1275668I realized this made sense as I was writing my post.But sometimes you gotta go with the rule of cool.Also this has kind of been a very Firefly kind of quest, and Allen totally has been played by Mal.Obviously not one to one, but we have a jaded war Hero who became a hero in a battle that was apparently lost, and is now a symbol.Rag-tag crew in an old but solid ship that's rough around the edges but holding together.Cute "Girl Next Door" mechanic. Badass military dude who LOVES his guns.Psychic that can kill you with their MIND.I got nothing for Corrigan. Like I said it's not a 1 to 1 comparison. Still running around doing odd jobs and getting shot. Not getting laid. Having simple plans spin out of control. Looting a dead Government ship for restricted goods and finding out it's haunted by something once human.Finding a girl in a stasis pod.Sorry but I've had Mal in my head for Allen this whole time, although the other characters were really unique.
>>1275676I can definitely see the Firefly connection, especially since I mostly made the setting up based on all the sci-fi stuff I like, and Firefly is definitely one of the major inspirations. Another inspiration is Dead Space, or at least the aesthetic of the starships and industrial stuff from it.
>>1275676Heh, I can see the connections but the characters don't match at all in my head. They are less gung ho and there are no miniature dinosaurs.
>>1275682>>1275692Like I said, I can't help but see Allen as Malaysia in my head. Similar attitude and history.Oh sure the Feds may not have exactly won the war, but I feel like Allen definitely lost his war.And from what Zap has said I can't wait until our first hook-up with a woman, she turns out to be scamming us.
“I remember hearing about a market district,” you say. “May as well check it out while we’re here.” “Okay then,” Cynthia nods. “Lead the way.” You frown, attempting to remember where the shopkeeper said the Market District was. Recalling that he’d mentioned it being in the northern part of the city, you begin walking that way. It soon becomes obvious that you are entering a more mercantile area as you begin passing many small shops and open-air markets. “Looks like we’re in the right place,” you say mostly to yourself as you pass a small market. “Doesn’t really seem like the kind of place where a spacer would do their shopping though…” Corrigan nods at you. “Indeed. It seems more like a small-town marketplace, just on a larger scale.” “Yeah…” You frown, a bit disappointed by the lack of anything interesting. “I’m not really seeing anything we could make use of here…” “What’s that?” Corrigan points to a booth with a sign written in the Imperial language. The three of you walk over and you immediately realize this vendor is apparently selling Imperial military equipment. Corrigan frowns, leaning toward you to whisper. “This kind of equipment is not legal to sell in Imperial space.” She then shrugs. “But since we are not in Imperial space, it may be useful to see what they have…” Looking at the counter, you see that most of the merchandise consists of things like ammo pouches and combat fatigues, though there are also some more interesting things, like rifle scopes and a set of walkie talkies. Near the back, where you see the shopkeeper working on something, an assault rifle sits on a rack, seemingly brand new. The shopkeeper seems to notice you, walking hesitantly to the counter and eyeing the three of you suspiciously. “Hello…” He is a youngish guy, probably around twenty, with dark hair and cruel-looking eyes. “Is there something I can help you with?” >”What’s the story with that assault rifle back there?” >”I’m a spacer. Do you have anything specific that I might need in my travels?” >”I noticed a set of bulletproof vests back there. What can you tell me about those?” >”These walkie-talkies look interesting…”>Write-in.
>>1276578>>>”I noticed a set of bulletproof vests back there. What can you tell me about those?” >>”These walkie-talkies look interesting…”
>>1276578>”I’m a spacer. Do you have anything specific that I might need in my travels?” >”These walkie-talkies look interesting…”>"Got anything for confined quarters? Preferably without perforating a hull."
>>1276578>”I’m a spacer. Do you have anything specific that I might need in my travels?” >”I noticed a set of bulletproof vests back there. What can you tell me about those?”
>>1276578>”What’s the story with that assault rifle back there?” >”I’m a spacer. Do you have anything specific that I might need in my travels?” >”I noticed a set of bulletproof vests back there. What can you tell me about those?”
You raise an eyebrow. “I’m a spacer. Do you have anything I might need in my travels?” The vendor nods very slowly, seemingly trying to get a read on you. “I’ve got a few things… Hold on for a second.” He walks back into a part of the boot obscured by a tarp. After a solid minute of waiting, you see him return with a box in his hands. “Check this out.” He sits the box on the counter and opens it carefully. “What am I looking at here?” You look into the box and see what looks like a data storage drive, but with a plug that looks like it routes into a navigation computer. The vendor grins slightly. “This is an IFF for an Imperial Trade License. It’ll let you land on Titan and New Minsk.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Only costs 5,000 Standards. Smokin’ deal.” You cross your arms. “Sounds sketchy…” He nods. “Oh, it is. I figured you were wanting something to get you more lucrative markets or something…” His eyes narrow at you. “Wait. You’re not a cop, are you?” “If he was,” Corrigan says politely. “You would have already been arrested.” She then looks at you. “If you were found in Imperial space with this, we would not see the light of day for a long time, sir.” You frown. “So this thing is illegal to even have…” "Technically it all is," Corrigan whispers to you.The vendor sighs. “So you guys are more legit than I thought… I got something else for you then…” He reaches under the counter and produces a circuit board. “This is an Imperial electrotargeter module. Splice it into your sensors and you’ll be able to detect Imperial warships based on their communications. It won’t tell you what they’re saying, but you’ll have a fix on their positions.” He shrugs. “This one’s pretty rare though, since the Imperial Special Forces are the only ones who have ‘em. I can’t let it go for less than 8,000 Standards.” You frown. “Okay…” Looking back, you see a number of bulletproof vests laying in the back. “What about those vests?” The vendor glances back, then looks at you again. “They’re just standard Imperial military vests. Don’t get me wrong, they’re nice, but they’re more collectors’ pieces than functional items. I suppose you could fetch a decent price for ‘em if you found a dedicated militaria collector. I can give you a decent deal on these ones though since they’ve got oil stains which affect the value. 1,000 Standards for the set of six.” >”I’ll take the vests.” (1,000)>”I’ll take the Trade License IFF.” (5,000)>”I’ll take the targeter module.” (8,000)>”How exactly did you come into possession of this stuff?” >”This is too sketchy. I’m out.” (leave)>Write-in.
>>1276776>>>”I’ll take the vests.” (1,000)
>>1276776>>”I’ll take the targeter module.” (8,000)>”How exactly did you come into possession of this stuff?”
>>1276776>”I’ll take the vests.” (1,000)>”I’ll take the targeter module.” (8,000)Super ship here we come.
>>1276776>”I’ll take the targeter module.” (8,000)In anticipation of the upcoming war. We don't need the IFF because we already have a diplomatic pass. If we need one later Blackheart probably has better contacts.>>1276803>>1276814The guy just said vests were a waste of time. If you want to protect the crew why don't you wait till we get to mars and get something more conventional that collectors items.
>>1276861Almost every time we get off this ship some one shokts at us or the crew.I mean we can always sale them latter.
>>1276776>”I’ll take the targeter module.” (8,000)
>>1276776>”I’ll take the targeter module.” (8,000)No vests, unless we are gonna try and clean them up and sell them to Tom.
“I’ll take the targeter module,” you say simply. “Alright then,” the vendor nods. “That’ll be 8,000 Standards even.” You sit the cash on the counter and collect the box with the circuit board in it, walking away from the booth casually. However, as soon as you get out of earshot, Cynthia sighs. “I guess that means putting off renovating the ship for a while.” “Not to mention the fact that if Imperial authorities find that circuit board on our ship, we will be arrested and tried.” Corrigan frowns as well. “Assuming that the device you purchased is indeed a targeter. I have not heard of such a device, though my knowledge of radio targeting systems is limited.” She shrugs. “I certainly hope it works, sir.” You grumble. “Hey, it could prove very useful someday.” You all begin walking around to the various other stalls. “Besides, I’m sure we can pull in enough cash from various jobs. We’ll still be able to renovate the ship.” “If you say so,” Cynthia sighs. “I just hope that targeting sensor doesn’t come back to haunt us one day. I’ve heard bad things about Imperial jails…” Corrigan stifles a chuckle. “Many of the stories are based on rumors. I have heard more than a few before.” She shrugs. “My family occasionally did contract work for the prison department.” “Ah,” Cynthia smiles a little bit. “So they’re actually nicer than most people say?” Corrigan shakes her head. “Oh, no. They are much worse.” After that, Cynthia quickly changes the subject of the conversation to potential destinations for delivering cargo after you reach Mars, though nothing much comes of it. You explore the market though, finding nothing of particular interest beyond a vendor who claims to sell genuine psirinean seeker crystals, upon closer inspection however, you discover that they are large chunks of rock salt. Sighing, the three of you arrive back where you started, at the entrance to the open-air markets. “Well that was less productive than I expected…” Cynthia wipes her forehead, squinting through the midday sun. >”There HAS to be some place with things worth buying…” (continue searching, roll a 1d100)>”Maybe one of the actual brick-and-mortar stores we passed is worth checking out?” >”Let’s head back to the ship. This isn’t a spacers’ town.” >Write-in.
Rolled 57 (1d100)>>1276981>>”There HAS to be some place with things worth buying…” (continue searching, roll a 1d100)
Rolled 80 (1d100)>>1276981>”There HAS to be some place with things worth buying…” (continue searching, roll a 1d100)>”Maybe one of the actual brick-and-mortar stores we passed is worth checking out?” Work robots, I still wana know whats up with the robot AI we took. It hasn't been entertaining us.
>>1276994couse we have told it to just chilling in the closet prettyt much the whole time we have had it
>>1276981>”Maybe one of the actual brick-and-mortar stores we passed is worth checking out?”just get some actually tasty food ingredients and GTFO already!>if Imperial authorities find that circuit board on our shipWe if we just keep it artfully stashed away in a big box of other spare parts and junk untill we need it then the only way they would find it is if they knew to look for it.
>>1277013put it in the robot we havebut also y have it if we wont use it.i mean we gots a cloking device as well
Rolled 74 (1d100)>>1276981>>”There HAS to be some place with things worth buying…” (continue searching, roll a 1d100)
>>1277003We probably told it to stay there, in a closet while we were busy and forgot about it.
>>1277019>y have it if we wont use itI said "until we needed it", you mong. We will know when we need it because at that point we will have a reason to avoid the imps, inlike now. Which is why there is no fucking reason to install it!
“There HAS to be some place with things worth buying…” You frown, walking back toward the market stalls. Eventually, you do find a stall you must’ve missed on your initial walkthrough. It appears to be a stall specifically catering to spacers with older ships. You walk up to the stall, looking at some of the things there for sale. Most of the vendor’s wares are represented by catalogues, apparently his actual inventory is elsewhere save for a few smaller items. You notice a few things that interest you in the catalogs. First is an efficiency module for the ship’s generators, which allegedly gives a boost to ship speed and computer response times. Cynthia cautions you against it due to having never heard of the manufacturer, as well as the price, which sits at 20,000 Standards. The next thing to catch your eye is a remodel kit for the ship’s bridge. Looking at the photos and specs, you see that it adds a seat for the navigator on the bridge, as well as a station for the chief engineer. While such a setup would be preferable, you can tell in the photos that it will make your ship’s bridge very crowded when fully-staffed, not to mention it would likely take an entire day to install it. It also costs 20,000 Standards, though you figure that would be a better deal than the efficiency module. You frown, looking elsewhere in the catalog. There are individual missiles, identical to the ones your ship currently has, for 3,000 Standards apiece. And below those are nicer, longer-ranged missiles for 8,000 apiece. You flip the page and scour the catalog for other Oberon-compatible parts, finding little in the way of meaningful parts. However, you stumble across something interesting at the bottom of the page. There is a docking-collar for one-person starfighters, designed to recess into the hull and allow the pilot to enter their fighter without having to leave the ship. Judging by the photos, it would mean hauling the fighter on the underside of the ship when not in use, but a small parasite fighter could prove useful against pirates, assuming you can find one for sale. Still, the modification costs 30,000 Standards, which is far too much for you at the moment. You look at one of the other catalogs labeled “groundside services.” It has a list of things this business is willing to do while your ship is parked, as well as the price of each task. The ones from the list that appeal to you the most are an option to have fresh food delivered to your ship for 1,500 Standards, as well as the option to have your ship’s name printed on the outside of your vessel, which costs 3,000 Standards. >Buy the efficiency module. (20,000)>Buy the bridge renovation kit. (20,000)>Buy missiles. (either 3,000 or 6,000) (specify quantity, maximum of ten)>Buy the starfighter docking rig. (30,000)>Have your pantry stocked with fresh food. (1,500)>Have your ship’s name added to the hull. (3,000)>Do nothing.
>>1277196>Have your pantry stocked with fresh food. (1,500)> Two long range missilesNever know when they could be really, really useful and you always want a second shot.
>>1277196>>Have your pantry stocked with fresh food. (1,500)>Ask Cynthia about the rest of this stuff.
>>1277196>>Have your pantry stocked with fresh food. (1,500)
>>1277196>Have your pantry stocked with fresh food. (1,500)Didn't Corrigan say those nice missiles being surplussed by the feds were available at a good (although not cheap) price back in the solar system? Also as nice and homey as it is I kinda don't want the name plastered on the ship. Not that its impossible to track without but Oberons are fairly ubiquitous and there's not a big call to make us easier to identify.
>>1277196>Have your pantry stocked with fresh food. (1,500)Lets see what else we can get before we return to this place.
>>1277196>Have your pantry stocked with fresh food. (1,500)A single person fight does sound useful. Put it on the list for the future I guess. Not sure about the name, if people want to identify us they can use comms or bribe the dockmaster. idk about loadout desu.
>>1277196>Have your pantry stocked with fresh food. (1,500)About time.
You decide to have your ship’s pantry stocked with fresh food. It makes sense, seeing as you normally end up eating powdered eggs by the end of a voyage. You figure you may as well have your crew enjoy some good meals here and there. Putting the cash down, the vendor nods at you, making a note of your ship’s location at the docks and telling you that food will be delivered within the hour. The three of you decide to leave the open-air markets, having seen everything there that there is to see, and on the way back through town, you pass a couple stores. Checking a couple of them out, you discover that they aren’t anything you or the girls are interested in, so you decide to make your way back to the town square. “Captain,” Corrigan speaks up as the three of you walk. “Is your rib feeling better?” You frown, bringing a hand to your torso. There’s still a dull ache there, but nothing particularly distracting. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrug. She points to a store on a side street. “That looks like a drugstore,” she says. “We could go there and see if they have anything to help with your injury.” Cynthia frowns, squinting at the store’s sign. “That’s one of those holistic ‘medicine’ shops. Most of the time that stuff doesn’t work…” You raise an eyebrow at her. “That’s the kind of store where we got your Tappler tea.” She shrugs. “Yeah, but that place was labelled as an herbalist’s shop. Whoever runs this place fancies themselves…” She reads the sign. “A spirit-doctor?” You look up at the sign and see an old-fashioned Indian wearing a feathered headdress, pointing to a cloud of smoke that turns into nebula shaped like a deer’s head, and above it is a livery reading ‘SPIRIT-DOCTOR’. There is a much larger sign of a red cross above it all, which is likely what caught Corrigan’s attention. The three of you come to a stop in front of the store. “It’s your call, Allen,” Cynthia says with a frown. “But I doubt there’s going to be anything in there that will heal your rib better than modern medicine.” >Head inside.>Keep walking.
>>1277470>Head insideSpirit vision
>>1277470>Head inside.This sounds fun.
>>1277470>Head inside.We might as well chech out how much it costs.
>>1277470I wonder if they have any alien hallucinogenics we can use for crew bonding time.
>>1277470>Keep walking.Helllllll no.
>>1277470>Head insideVirgo claims the power of his order came from a spirit entity. If you can get the power to control one of the four forces of the universe from one I'm willing to give it a look.
>>1277515>crew bonding time>alien hallucinogenicsI fail to see the connection
>>1277533Do you? Have you never dropped acid with strangers and came out the other side fast friends?
>>1277549No?And aren't drugs bad for your health?
>>1277560What are you, eight?
>>1277591Twenty two actually.Drugs are illegal here. As in, nacrotics AND hallucinogenic material, not medical drugs.
>>1277591Drug friends don't last.Drugs are for losers after one or two times. Unless I suppose if you're spiritually, mentally, or emotionally impaired and decide to use them as a crutch instead of improving yourself.Drugs are the worst thing ever, they're boring after the first few times.I guess I do recommend trying them just to see what they're like. Shroom a couple times, do acid a couple times, and if you're actually interested in using them to promote spiritual growth instead of replacing it then you'll K-hole.And yes, they are bad for your health.
You shrug. “Eh, what’s the worst that could happen?” However, Cynthia feels the need to reply as you lead the way into the store. “Quite a few things, actually.” She sighs as you all enter the store. It is a small, rather cramped establishment, with tall shelves leading back to the counter, which is piled high with various clutter. You look at the various things on the shelves as you walk back toward the counter. This place has everything from Tappler to Psirinean Absinthe, whatever that is, and several things you can’t even pronounce. As you make it back to the counter, you notice that the door to the back room is open, and it appears that a Federation flag is sloppily draped in the back room over what looks like a large mattress on the floor. You frown at the smell of the place, which is a mix between pipe tobacco and what smells like printer ink. Wrinkling your nose, you peer over the counter, trying to find the shopkeeper. Old music plays over a busted-up radio somewhere, the specific song reminding you of your time on various planetary bases during the early days of the War when you were an attack pilot. You find the bell on the desk and ring it loudly three times, looking around as it echoes slightly. However, some movement catches your eye in the back room as the Federal flag falls to the floor with a loud thud and a groan. Raising your eyebrows, you realize that the flag was being used as a blanket, and whoever it was covering was sleeping in a hammock. The person coughs a couple times as he peels the flag off of himself and grins, walking toward the counter. “Well holy shit,” he says with a chuckle. Oh god, you immediately regret coming here. “As I live and breathe. Allen Starwind.” The man puts his hands on his hips dramatically, donning a pair of familiar sunglasses. “How have the years been treating you?” Standing in front of you is Major Andy Castro, the former commander of Firebase Oliver North, one of the many places you used to hang your hat when you were a ground-attack pilot.
Aaand that's going to be it for tonight. We'll run tomorrow, hopefully starting a little bit earlier in the day, and I hope to wrap the thread up on Sunday if things go well. What kind of place do you think Firebase Oliver North was?
>>1277623Judging from the looks of this place, a relatively laid back base where things are loose and disorganized?Also thanks for the run.
>>1277623The Imp don't surf(TM) sort of outfit, a slap dash FOB with personality (proficiency required, professionalism optional).
>>1277623Well the picture you chose says a lot.Maybe we can get him to toss some under the table supplies our way in exchange for helping with the pirates.
>>1277623I'm imagining that officer, and his buddies, from apocalpyse now who were just obsessed with surfing and the war was just a day job.
>>1275649*Clap*clap*clap*I hereby bestow you your honorary yarmulke and shellfish allergy. You'll have to handle the bris yourself. I recommend a penknife.
You remember Firebase Oliver North like it was yesterday. One of the many FOBs at the edge of Federation territory on Pallus, it was where you gained your first bits of fame as an attack pilot. When you had first arrived, you weren’t sure if it was actually a firebase at all, and to this day, you wonder how the Army got away with keeping bases like that. And standing before you is the former commanding officer of the Firebase, grinning like an absolute madman. He wears a pair of old fatigue pants, but is shirtless like always, showing off the tribal tattoos all over his torso. Castro adjusts his glasses as Cynthia looks at you. “You know this guy, Allen?” She raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. “You could say that…” You frown. Looking around the store, it now makes perfect sense to you that he would run a place like this. “I was his old CO on Pallus!” He says with a grin. Pointing to your bandaged eye, his expression gets a little more serious. “What happened there? Get in some kind of trouble?” You shrug. “You could say that, Andy.” Pointing to your ribs, you continue speaking. “Got a cracked rib too. That’s actually why I’m here…” “Ah,” Castro nods sagely. “Right. I’ve got just the thing. Gimme a sec.” He walks into the back room and you hear a massive clatter as some metal cans roll across the floor. There is a sound of glass breaking, and you hear Castro swear loudly. “Found it.” He returns to the counter with a glass jar filled with white powder. “That’s…” Your eyes go wide. “That’s not what I think it is, right?” He chuckles again. “It’s Etrius Powder. Local remedy for broken bones. It encourages calcium regrowth and acts as a natural painkiller throughout the process.” He sits the jar on the counter. “Mix with water and apply topically over the area with the broken bone.” He scratches his head. “Normally it’d be 800 Standards, but since we go way back, I’ll give you a discount. 500 Standards.” >”Okay.” (500)>”No thanks.” >”What else do you have here? Anything a spacer might find useful?” >”How’d you end up on Thalos? Last I’d heard, you followed the oil craze and moved to New Seoul.” >Write-in.
>>1279342>”Okay.” (500)This won't be the first or last time we (or the the crew) break bones.>”What else do you have here? Anything a spacer might find useful?” >”How’d you end up on Thalos? Last I’d heard, you followed the oil craze and moved to New Seoul.”
>>1279342>”Okay.” (500)>”What else do you have here? Anything a spacer might find useful?” >”How’d you end up on Thalos? Last I’d heard, you followed the oil craze and moved to New Seoul.”
“Okay,” you reply. “I’ll take it.” You put the cash on the table and Castro hands you the jar of powder with a grin. “Got anything else a spacer could use? I may want to stock up on medicinal stuff while I’m here.” Castro nods. “I’ve got a few things…” He reaches under the counter, putting a container on the table. “These are oxygen tablets. Pour water on them and they’ll generate oxygen. Good for if the worst-case scenario happens.” He then walks over to one of the shelves, pulling a small box off and sitting it on the counter as well. “And this is a bodily stabilization salve.” He opens the box to show you a small tin with a label on it written in a language you don’t understand. “Being in space too long can play havoc on your body’s natural chemicals, you know. While I don’t know if it actually works, I’ve heard plenty of spacers talk well about it.” He then grins a little bit at you, getting a wooden box with what looks like an old catholic mission printed on the side. He sits it on the counter and opens it. “I remember how much you liked cigars.” You shake your head simply. “I quit after I left the service. Thanks anyway.” You point to the other things. “How much for the oxygen tabs and stabilization salve?” He closes the box with a nod. “The salve is 2,000 Standards, and the o2 tabs are 1,000 Standards.” He shrugs. “Not exactly cheap, but I have to charge more since I don’t sell a lot of them.” You nod slowly. “Say, Andy… How’d you end up on Thalos anyway? I thought you’d followed the oil craze out to New Seoul.” He nods. “Caught the oil rush a little too late,” he says simply. “By the time I got there, all the oil money was already in peoples’ pockets. Had to bust ass to get enough money to leave the planet.” He chuckles. “Still, it was interesting, to say the least.” “I can imagine,” you reply. You’d remembered him contacting you and asking if you wanted to tag along to the oil-rich planet. Learning what you know now makes you glad you decided to stay behind. “So, feel like buying anything else?” He smirks. >Buy the oxygen tablets. (1,000)>Buy the salve. (2,000)>”No thanks.”
>>1279646>>Buy the oxygen tablets. (1,000)
>>1279646> no thanksI can only imagine them being marginally useful in a bad end situation, so not really useful. Unless the salve can be used to standalone other mortal wounds.
“No thanks,” you say simply. “I need to be getting back to my ship anyway.” Castro nods at you. “Such is the life of a spacer, my friend. Happy travels to ‘ya.” He grins and gives you a casual salute as you leave the store with the girls in tow. “How was he a commander of a base?” Cynthia frowns as you all walk down the street. “Firebases aren’t like conventional bases,” you say. “Plus, those were different times. The Marines hadn’t been properly organized on most planets, and what Marines were available were used to spearhead landing operations.” You shrug. “The Army just held ground once the Marines took it.” “So it was an Army firebase?” She raises an eyebrow. “But you were in the Navy.” “Naval ground attack craft were based out of Army firebases.” You grimace. “Like I said, those were different times.” You rub the back of your neck, looking for the right words to describe the situation. “The Federation wasn’t ready for a war, logistically or administratively. So in the early days, you had units from different branches occupying the same barracks on the same bases. It was during the first wave of reforms when I got reassigned to the fighter corps and moved aboard the Abraxis.” “So what was the firebase like?” Corrigan speaks up next, a curious expression on her face. “Imagine a bunch of high school kids running an under-funded, under-supplied military base.” You smirk. “Now imagine their commanding officer is the stereotypical uncle who lets you get away with anything. That was Firebase Oliver North. No uniforms, no regulations, no problem.” You chuckle as you recite the unofficial motto, neglecting to mention the official motto, which read ‘kill ‘em all’. Sighing, you cross your arms as the three of you enter the town square. “Of course, a CO can only get away with so much…” “You mean he got fired?” Cynthia doesn’t look all that surprised. You chuckle. “He got court-martialed. Almost got sentenced to five years in military prison.” Her eyes go wide. “What for?” You shrug. “Officially? Destruction of Army property. We used a couple hundred gallons of vehicle fuel for a bonfire this one time. Quartermasters found out.” “Doesn’t surprise me,” she says. “People get really testy whenever stuff like that goes missing. Still, the way you worded it makes it sound like there’s more to this story…” >”It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.” >”He got a little bit too bold with his criticism of the brass.” (vague)>”Ever heard of the Hinterland Scandal?” (tell the full story)
>>1280046>”He got a little bit too bold with his criticism of the brass.” (vague)>”It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later
>>1280046>”He got a little bit too bold with his criticism of the brass.” (vague)
>>1280046>”Ever heard of the Hinterland Scandal?” (tell the full story)
>>1280046> tell the full story
Also, quick update. I have just been notified that I'm the designated driver for my friends this evening. There may be an extended period of time between updates sometime tonight.
“Ever heard of the Hinterland Scandal?” You raise an eyebrow as the three of you walk through the town square. “That was where some officers discovered that a general was doing some illegal stuff and he got fired publicly, right?” Cynthia frowns as she tries to recall the story. While it’s not a completely accurate summary, it’s pretty much what the press told the general public. “That’s essentially the short of it,” you nod. “A general in the Marines was forcing one of the largest arms companies in the Federation, Hinterland, to overlook quality control issues so that they could pump out as many rifles as possible.” You grimace. “The main reason he was pressuring them to meet quotas despite the obvious danger was because he owned a controlling stock in the company.” “I thought that was a conflict of interest.” Cynthia crosses her arms, scowling. “It is,” you reply. “And it’s supposed to be illegal, but it happens all the time. A lot of generals have enough political pull to avoid that kind of thing though.” You shrug. “Even today, it happens more often than you’d believe.” “So what happened?” Corrigan speaks up next. “Well,” you begin. “Major Castro was one of the officers whose men were dying because they were issued rifles that never should’ve left the factory. He and about ten other senior officers began investigating it, and it led back to that General. They made a big public thing out of it and the military was forced to fire him…” You frown, sighing. “But even a general who’s been fired has enough political pull to get officers shitcanned on mostly-false charges. He got all of the people who exposed him court-martialed for various unrelated things.” “And nobody found out?” Cynthia leans toward you, an incredulous look on her face. “I mean, it was obvious to most of us on the ground,” you say. “But there’s not much you can do to challenge that kind of thing, since it happens mostly under the table between top-ranking officers.” You grimace. “They tend to protect their own, even if they aren’t directly involved. That’s why Castro and the others went public with their findings. It would’ve been swept under the rug if they’d reported it to other generals.”
“That really sucks,” Cynthia says. “I can see why you aren’t a fan of generals and admirals.” You nod. “That’s certainly one reason. I bet half of the bombs I dropped on Pallus were duds. Quality control was another thing that needed work back then…” You sigh as the three of you approach the docks. “So what about the Empire?” Cynthia looks over at Corrigan. “Does anything like that happen with the Missile Clans?” She nods. “Though quality control is done by the Military itself, there are definitely ‘conflicts of interest’ as you call them.” She looks at you with an uncertain expression, then looks away. “It was what allowed my elder brother to get special equipment and prototypes when he was in the Imperial Navy. He was also able to choose where he was deployed, and what people were in his unit.” “Yeah…” You say with disgust. “Vadim Vatner…” Cynthia looks at you with a surprised expression. “You know Corrigan’s older brother?” Glancing over at Corrigan, you see her look away, seemingly not wanting to discuss the subject any further.” >”Yeah, you could say he and I have a history.” >”He’s your typical snobbish noble.” >”I don’t feel like talking about it right now.” >”He’s the reason I’m banned by name from stepping foot on Europa.” >Write-in.
>>1280478> he and I have a historyIs this new info about being banned from Europa our an I forgetting a thing?Since our crew gets a share of profit, as opposed to wages, I think we should let the crew know if we are limiting their available ports due to personal bullshit. No need to tell the gory details though.
>>1280478>>”Yeah, you could say he and I have a history.”but>”I don’t feel like talking about it right now.”
>>1280478>>”Yeah, you could say he and I have a history.”
>>1280478>”He’s the reason I’m banned by name from stepping foot on Europa.”
>>1280478>”Yeah, you could say he and I have a history.”
>>1280478>”He’s your typical snobbish noble.” Add in pompous.>>1280566Idk was it the planet were we found the elf?
>>1281970Nah that was ganymede but that thread did mention that we were banned on Europa because we backed Corrigan in some family disagreement:>You remember how the two of you had initially met. She had been having a serious fight with her family, and you paid for a hotel room for her to stay in while things calmed down. After that, you left Europa and returned to Earth.
>>1280478>”He’s the reason I’m banned by name from stepping foot on Europa.”Also have some shitty fanart.
Sorry for ending the session last night without any heads-up. Went to collect my friends from the bar and ended up sleeping on their couch. Today's session will begin in about an hour. >>1283674That's really cool. I appreciate it.
“Yeah,” you practically spit. “You could say he and I have a history.” You grimace as the Bad Habit comes into view, still decently far away. “Let’s just say it’d be best if I never run into him again. For his sake as much as mine…” You shake your head, pointing to the ship. “Looks like they’re delivering something.” As the three of you arrive, you see that the food people are stocking your pantry. Their boss, a rotund, motherly lady, walks up to you. “Good afternoon Captain.” She grins good-naturedly. “Assuming you don’t take on any other crew during your travels, this food should last for the next two weeks or so. I hope you enjoy it.” “Thank you,” you nod as someone rolls a large box up the cargo ramp. Peering inside, you see many smaller boxes filled with fresh fruit and vegetables. “It’ll be nice to eat well during our travels. My crew deserve it.” The woman crosses her arms, chuckling lightly. “I believe everyone deserves the best food available.” You smirk. “Absolutely.” The woman pats your arm, glancing at Corrigan as she walks up. “I’ll leave you to your business then, Captain. You probably have quite the schedule to keep, judging by how much cargo you’re carrying!” She chuckles again, walking off with the rest of her delivery people. “Huh,” Cynthia nods. “Nice lady.” “Yeah,” you remark. “Where’s Corrigan?” Cynthia points to the stairwell leading into the ship. “She went up to her quarters, I think.” As you look up toward the stairwell, you see the door open and Tom descend the stairs, looking at you as he lights a cigarette. “Captain,” he calls out. “Me and Virgo just finished yanking the old fridge out and putting the new one in. Good find, by the way.” >”So what are we going to do with the old fridge?” >”Are we ready for takeoff?” >”Anything happen while I was gone?” >Write-in.
>>1284478>>”Anything happen while I was gone?”>”So what are we going to do with the old fridge?”
>>1284478>”Anything happen while I was gone?”>”So what are we going to do with the old fridge?”
>>1284478>”Anything happen while I was gone?”
>>1284478> are we ready for takeoff?
>>1284478>”So what are we going to do with the old fridge? Find an isolated field and toss a grenade in, that's always good fun.">”Are we ready for takeoff?”
“Anything happen while I was gone?” You cross your arms and lean against the wall as Tom reaches the bottom of the stairs. He shrugs, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Not a whole lot. Got caught up on the news, Federation’s apparently colonizing a new stretch of the Arthurian Cluster.” He coughs a little bit. “Oh, and Samantha mentioned that she wanted to talk to you about something. She said it could wait if you had other things to do though.”You raise an eyebrow, nodding. “Right, I’ll go talk to her when I get the chance.” You stretch, rubbing your shoulder. “Arthurian Cluster, huh? I thought that part of space was banned from further colonization by the Armistice Treaty.” Tom grimaces. “Yeah. It’s caused a big stink with the Empire. They don’t have the power or desire to enforce it anymore, but still, it’s the principle of it, right?” “Right,” you reply. “Anyway, you mentioned that the old fridge got replaced. What are we going to do with it?” Tom shrugs. “Keep it in the storage room until we figure out what to do with it. The way I see things, we shouldn’t throw it out until it actually breaks down. Right now it’s still a functioning refrigerator, so we may still have a use for it.” He smirks. “Though we could take it out to an empty field and toss a hand grenade in it…” You frown. “No, Tom. Remember last time?” He chuckles. “Yeah, good times. Anyway, we’re completely squared-away as far as cargo and provisions go…” He frowns slightly. “That weirdo passenger you brought on hasn’t left his stateroom since he arrived though.” You shrug. “At least he’s keeping to himself.” “Right,” Tom nods. “So what’s on today’s agenda, sir?” >”Prep for takeoff. Let’s get out of here.”>”I’m going to go talk to Samantha. See what she wanted.” >”Our first stop in going to be Mars. Do you have any recommendations for a destination after we deliver our cargo there?” >Write-in.
>>1284832>>”I’m going to go talk to Samantha. See what she wanted.”
>>1284832>”I’m going to go talk to Samantha. See what she wanted.”
>>1284832> I'm talk to Sam
Maybe Roy is going to be heading out to a new colony in the Arthurian cluster.
“I’m going to go talk to Samantha,” you say. “May as well see what she wants.” “Right,” Tom nods. “I’ll be in the wardroom in you need me.” You head up into the crew areas, stopping by your quarters to drop off the stuff you bought in town before heading toward the crew staterooms. You arrive at the door for Samantha’s stateroom and knock on it. After about thirty seconds, she answers the door. “Oh,” she salutes you. “Good afternoon, Captain.” You raise an eyebrow at her. “You wanted to speak with me?” She nods, breaking the salute and motioning for you to enter the stateroom. “I was wondering about something. About the Wales…” You sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “What about it?” She continues, a determined expression on her face. “I… I want to go back to the wreck.” You take a step back, eyes wide. “What? Why?” She takes a step toward you, a determined expression on her face. “I… I had things aboard that I want to get back.” She grimaces. “And… I made a promise to someone. One of my comrades… So I need to go back there and do something for him.” She rubs her eyes, looking away. “Plus I want to see it with my own eyes.” You look away, sighing again. As much as you don’t want anything to do with this, you can understand her mindset. There are still things you wish you’d done… Times when you wish you could return to the Abraxis, if only to see it with your own eyes. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to make yourself do that… You look at Samantha again, and you almost see a hint of someone all too familiar in those eyes. Almost. >”Alright.” >”No.” >"Trust me. You don't want to see it with your own eyes.">”You realize that it’s illegal to visit the wreck of the Wales, right?” >”I doubt there’s much left of the wreck now. We left in a hurry and it got caught in our thrust vector.” >”What kind of promise did you make, exactly?” >Write-in.
>>1285183>”Alright.”>”You realize that it’s illegal to visit the wreck of the Wales, right?”
>>1285183>”You realize that it’s illegal to visit the wreck of the Wales, right?”
You sigh. “Okay.” Crossing your arms, you stop Samantha before she can speak up. “But you realize that it’s illegal to visit the wreck of the Wales, right?” She frowns. “That didn’t stop you when you went there the first time.” “That was more of a spur of the moment kind of thing,” you reply. “It’s not like we were looking for it.” She shrugs. “Well thank you, sir.” Samantha rubs the back of her neck. “And thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had just dropped me off at the nearest friendly port.” You smile a little. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad to help.” She looks like she’s about to say more when there is a knock at the door. “Miss Brooks?” You hear Tom’s voice on the other side. “Could I have some help with the navigation computer when you have a minute?” She walks over to the door, opening it. “Sure thing.” You both exit the stateroom, Tom giving you a casual salute as you walk out into the hall. “Something wrong with the computer?” You frown as Tom leans against the wall. “It’s taking longer than normal to boot up,” he says with a shrug. “I figure it’s just a firmware issue, but I wanted to have Miss Brooks take a look at it before we went poking around in the code.” “It’s booting up slowly?” She raises an eyebrow. “That’s troublesome. I ran an update on it when we landed, but I thought everything meshed correctly. We may have to reset it to the factory defaults and load data from the backup.” >”Did anything seem wrong with it when you updated it?” >”How long is this going to take?” >”Do you think someone could’ve messed with it when nobody was on the bridge?” >Write-in.
>>1285567>>”Did anything seem wrong with it when you updated it?”>”Do you think someone could’ve messed with it when nobody was on the bridge?”
>>1285567>”Did anything seem wrong with it when you updated it?”>”Do you think someone could’ve messed with it when nobody was on the bridge?”
>>1285567>”Do you think someone could’ve messed with it when nobody was on the bridge?”Fucking NSA spooks are here! PAUL!
>>1285567>”Do you think someone could’ve messed with it when nobody was on the bridge?”
“Did anything seem off when you updated it?” You turn to Samantha, who frowns deeply. “Not as far as I know, but it’s possible. This ship’s navigation computer is old. I could’ve done something incorrectly that would be fine on a newer machine…” She shakes her head. “I’ll only be able to tell once I take a good look at it.” You scratch your chin, a feeling of dread nagging at you. “And is it possible that someone could’ve snuck in and messed with it while nobody was looking?” Tom frowns. “It would’ve been incredibly difficult. The bridge is laid out in a way that would be confusing to most modern ship designers. You’d have to know where the nav-computer was already if you wanted to access it directly.” He crosses his arms. “Still, it’s a possibility. It’d have to be someone already aboard though, we would’ve known if someone tried to sneak aboard.” You grimace. “So it’d have to be someone currently aboard…” You frown. “The passenger maybe?” Tom shakes his head. “Not possible, sir. Like I said, he hasn’t left his stateroom.” He shrugs, looking over at Samantha. “Could anyone have accessed it remotely? From outside the ship?” She frowns, her brows furrowing. “That’s a question you’d have to ask your software engineer. Normally, a navigation computer is a closed-system specifically for that reason, but ours is an older model, so it might not be that way…” She shrugs. “No point in speculating right now though. Let’s go have a look at it.” Tom nods, leading the way to the bridge. You follow close behind Samantha as the three of you head up there. When you arrive, you see that the panel on the floor has been left open by Tom, and Samantha immediately produces a tablet and kneels down, plugging into the computer and starting a diagnostic application. After almost ten minutes, she gasps, looking back at you. “Um, Captain?” Her eyes go wide. “You… You may want to see this…” You walk over and look at the highlighted portion of code on the tablet. “This block of code is what’s preventing the boot-up sequence, but look at the third line from the top…” She points to it. In the middle of an otherwise normal-looking string of code, you see something that couldn’t have formed by accident. Hello, Captain Starwind. You’ve been doing quite well for yourself since we last spoke. Expect to see me once you arrive on Mars. We’ve got a lot to talk about. Tom is the first to speak. “What the fuck?” He kneels next to you, reading the message. >”Delete the block of code and prepare for takeoff.” >”I think I have an idea who it is…” (write-in)>”What do you make of this, Samantha?” >”Get Solfrid up here. She’s a software engineer. Of anyone can explain this, it’s her.” >Write-in.
>>1285964>”Get Solfrid up here. She’s a software engineer. Of anyone can explain this, it’s her.”
>>1285964>”Delete the block of code and prepare for takeoff.”They probably aren't hostile, just someone with an inflated sense of self worth.Probably that vampire guy or Sammy. Hopefully not scary shotgun face lady.
>>1285964>>”Get Solfrid up here. She’s a software engineer. Of anyone can explain this, it’s her.”
>>1285964>”Get Solfrid up here. She’s a software engineer. Of anyone can explain this, it’s her.”>”Delete the block of code and prepare for takeoff.”
>>1285964>”Get Solfrid up here. She’s a software engineer. Of anyone can explain this, it’s her.”Oh fuck.
“Get Solfrid up here,” you say with a sigh. “If anyone has the know-how to advise us on this, it’s her.” “Right,” Tom nods. Without another word, he turns and leaves the bridge. Solfrid’s brows furrow as she reads the code. “I can see why you called me,” she says. “This is worrisome.” You nod. “Could it have been done remotely?” She nods. “Assuming they had the vessel’s specs, anyone could hack in from virtually anywhere. This navigation computer is connected to a network to make transferring star-charts easier.” She grumbles, putting a hand on her chin. “So there’s no way to tell who did it.” “What would you suggest we do?” You cross your arms, leaning back. She shrugs. “I honestly don’t know. Are you involved with a lot of dangerous people?” Before you can reply, Tom replies for you. “It’d take more than two hands to count ‘em.” “Then I would recommend tightening security when you get to Mars.” She frowns, a surprisingly hardened expression on her face. Tom nods. “That’d be my assessment as well.” He then looks over at you. “I’d recommend either not leaving the ship while we’re there, or taking a buddy wherever you go.” “Duly noted,” you reply. “Other than that, did you find any other out-of-place code?” You look back at Solfrid, who shakes her head. “That was it. Deleting it now.” She sits the tablet down, looking back at you. “We’re ready to fly, Captain.” >”Alright. Prepare for takeoff.” >”It’s kind of strange seeing you get this serious, Solfrid.” >”Is there any way we can defend ourselves against this kind of hacking?” >Write-in.
>>1286484>>”Is there any way we can defend ourselves against this kind of hacking?”>”Alright. Prepare for takeoff.”
>>1286484>>”Is there any way we can defend ourselves against this kind of hacking?” >>Write-in.No body leaves the ship alone or unarmed while on mars, captains standing orders.
>>1286484>”Is there any way we can defend ourselves against this kind of hacking?”2spooky
>>1286484>”Alright. Prepare for takeoff.”To be fair, we did leave our watchdog and watchrobot on the ship.
“How do we defend ourselves against hacking like this?” You grimace, scratching your head. “Well,” Solfrid pauses, as if considering the options. “There are plenty of security providers out there, but they mostly just tell you after the fact if a breach has occurred.” She then points to herself. “And I already do that, so you’d be wasting money on security software.” She shrugs. “But as far as preventative measures? I could try rewriting our code whenever we get the ship overhauled. I can guarantee no human hacker will be familiar enough with psirinean code to hack it.” “How well-versed in coding are you?” Tom speaks up next, frowning skeptically. “Would you be able to safely re-write our system in psirinean code?” She shakes her head. “I’d only have to re-write code on machines connected to the outside world. We can leave everything else as-is.” You nod. “That would be a pretty good deterrent.” You then crack your knuckles, more out of habit than anything. “But how sure are you that there aren’t hackers familiar with psirinean code?” She crosses her arms smugly. “I’d be willing to bet you good money there aren’t more than a dozen humans who know enough psirinean code to be dangerous. And the ones who do know it are employed by my peoples’ military.” You grin slightly. “Alright then. At the very least, your confidence is reassuring. Thanks for taking a look at that.” She grins happily. “It’s what I do best. I’m just glad to be along for the journey. There isn’t much demand for programmers back home.” Solfrid stands up, unplugging the tablet and handing it to Samantha. “Anyway, we’re about ready to take off, right?” >”Right.” (leave Thalos)>”Actually, there’s something else I have to do first.” (specify)
>>1286702>”Right.” (leave Thalos)
>>1286702Oh my god Solfrid you are like the worst type of software consultant. Not only do you propose a complete re-write you want to do it in a language that anyone else I would go to doesn't understand and you are doing all of this in persuit of security through obscurity?! Just fucking no. These are all bad ideas.
>>1286715I like you
>>1286715Like the budgie, Solfrid is CHEEP! Very cheap.
“Right,” you nod, sitting in the captain’s chair. “Tom, prep for takeoff.” “Roger,” he goes over to the pilot’s seat. “Samantha, could you stay up here and be ready to plot an FTL jump?” “Yeah,” she replies. You look over to see Solfrid exiting the room with a casual salute. You turn the intercom on, leaning in toward the mic. “Attention all passengers and crew. We’re about to take off. Would the weapons officer and engineer please report to stations?” After a couple minutes, Corrigan arrives on the bridge, taking a seat at the weapons console. “I’m in Engineering,” you hear Cynthia’s voice buzz over the intercom. “Everything looks good here. Ready for takeoff.” “Understood,” you reply simply. “Tom, take us up.” You don’t need any confirmation from him as the ship shudders from the cargo door closing. Then it gently lifts into the air and you feel the solid jerk of the landing gear retracting. “Preparing for initial burn,” Tom says as the ship takes off into the sky. “Fifteen minutes until optimal approach vector for FTL burn.” You spend the next fifteen minutes listening to the various radio chatter coming from ships around Thalos as the Bad Habit gets further and further from the planet. Eventually, there is a small alarm as Tom gets out of his seat, gesturing for Samantha to take over. “FTL calculations are all yours,” he says simply. She nods, sitting down at the pilot’s station and typing the coordinates of Mars into the computer. “Looks like… Just shy of two weeks,” she says with a groan. “I forgot how far away Mars is.” You chuckle. “Two weeks is nothing. Back when I was in training, our cruiser’s main FTL drive broke down and it took us almost a month to get back to Earth using the backup.” Tom glances back at you, a deep frown on his face. “Well hopefully that doesn’t happen to us anytime soon. We don’t have a backup.” He then nods to Samantha. “Whenever you’re ready.” “Right. Beginning FTL burn.” She presses a button and the outside world blurs into a blue-shifted mess. Spinning the chair around, she looks at you and Tom. “Well, looks like we’ve got some time to kill.” You lean back in your chair, pulling out the book Blackheart gave you. “Yeah. That we do…”
And that's it for this session. While I could run one tomorrow, this seems like a decent place to call the thread. Next thread will go up on Thursday at around the same time as normal. Mood music:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=juD4ayBbHdY Who do you think hacked the nav-computer?
>>1286899The space vampire thing. Or that agent.
>>1286702Can we just make it so it doesn't connect to any networks?
>>1286890What was our passenger's destination? Will we have to cart him around forever?>>1286899Almost surely that agent
>>1287188He wanted to got to Earth but said he wasn't in a hurry and anywhere easier to hitch from would be great.