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>>2265037
“Battle simulation concluded,” you hear Rossweisse declare, “all targets neutralized. How did it feel?”

You take off your helmet and affix it to your belt, then hop down out of your cockpit. As the soles of your pilot suit touch the deck you render your verdict. “Emary was right, for any normal pilot the thing's too responsive.”

“So you relied on Catrina.”

You nod curtly in confirmation. “Yeah, that's right. Without some sort of protocol to take fine control out of my hands it's a lot to concentrate on all at once.”

“ALICE, can a subroutine be written based on Catrina's input data?” Rossweisse asks. It takes the AI a few moments to actually respond, so long you're almost going to ask if she's okay.

“Negative,” ALICE informs you. “At this point data is deficient, I would need to have several more trials. At least one of those would need to involve live battle data to account for physiological discrepancies with the test data.”

“Adrenaline and brainwave output,” you realize, nodding quietly as you listen to ALICE's explanation. “Yeah, we understand. Thank you.”

“And how about the other thing we asked about?”

“We have located the headquarters of the Vist Foundation,” ALICE replies, “please sign onto the nearest computer terminal for photographs.”

You follow ALICE's instructions, and the dossier is waiting for you on your desktop. “They live in a colony builder?”

“An expensive mansion on the Magallanica, originally purchased for twenty million credits and subsequently remodeled,” ALICE tells you, rattling off some statistics. “Last appraisal ten years ago was at one hundred million.”

“Bet their neighbors are thrilled about that,” you grumble. “Wonder how much it jacks up property values?”

“Unknown.”

“That was rhetorical.”

>Then that's our target. We infiltrate the Magallanica and seize the mansion.
>I'm sure they hold rich-people events in there. That's our ticket in.
>They'll be heavily defended. We can draw out whatever they have waiting for us.
>Other?

>>2265040
>>I'm sure they hold rich-people events in there. That's our ticket in.
I enjoyed the heist mission back in the original run.

>>2265040
>>I'm sure they hold rich-people events in there. That's our ticket in.

>>2265040
>>Then that's our target. We infiltrate the Magallanica and seize the mansion.
>>I'm sure they hold rich-people events in there. That's our ticket in.

Why not both! Because I bet they have some kind of CCTV that can spot us and recognize us, we should send someone who isn't as known as we are. Still these kinds of events could be used as a smokescreen for our operation

>>2265045
>we should send someone who isn't as known as we are
Well, now I have doubts if anyone in our crew can pull off a rich snob routine well. Haman and maybe Cima could try for the dignified approach, but they both seem high profile.

Band musician disguise, perhaps? We're not exactly lacking in talent on that end. And it beats the typical waiter or bartender shtick.

>>2265053
This is a good idea.

>>2265053
Get Cima to give crash course to Bianca? I don't know, but band musician disguise could work.

>3d10, best of three
>higher means you get a better opportunity presented to you

Rolled 4, 8, 8 = 20 (3d10)

>>2265062
Lessee our options

Rolled 4, 2, 4 = 10 (3d10)

>>2265062
Well done >>2265063!

Rolled 5, 4, 9 = 18 (3d10)

>>2265062

>>2265063
>taking this, writing

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>>2265077
“We can't just go in guns blazing,” you sigh, realizing how much of a public backlash there could be if you marched in and took over part of a colony builder without properly explaining yourselves. “But these guys are disgustingly wealthy, there are certain things that go along with that. Holding public events is one of those things.”

“My guess is they have a pretty packed schedule.”

Basing this on prior experience?

Yeah, I am. You know that.

The worst part of those memories is that they aren't the worst you have. You want to say you hated the artificiality of it all, that you didn't enjoy the music or the dancing or the fancy food, that you hated dressing like a fashion doll every time. But you'd be lying.

At one point you and your sister loved it.

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. “ALICE, please look for an upcoming event where we could sneak in.”

After about thirty seconds, she completes her task. “The next event at that location is an open gala tomorrow night. Martha Vist Carbine will be in attendance.”

“Perfect,” you acknowledge.

“We can purchase tickets,” Rossweisse realizes. “Price is no object. We could also try to infiltrate as wait staff.”

“A live band has also been hired,” ALICE informs you.

>Buy the tickets and sneak in the front door.
>Pick up some wait staff outfits and manufacture credentials.
>Track down the musical act and take their place.
>Other?

>>2265104
These are all workable, now that I think about it. Geez, that just makes it harder to choose.

Up front allows for directly ingratiating with the hosts and getting info much faster, at the expense of likely being discovered. The latter two works out better with keeping it low key, but does mean playing it a bit more passive. More eavesdropping as opposed to questioning.

>>Pick up some wait staff outfits and manufacture credentials.
Ok, I definitely jumped the gun initially. Band has the disadvantage of only working from the stage now that I think about it. Waiter or guest at least has room to move around in.

>>2265104
>>Pick up some wait staff outfits and manufacture credentials.

>>2265136
You have very good point with the band having that disadvantage. Deleting my old vote.

>>2265104
>Pick up some wait staff outfits and manufacture credentials.

“Let's sneak in as waitstaff,” you suggest. “Take a team of two, the lowest-key field operatives we can manage.”

“Then Cima and Haman are out,” Rossweisse observes. “Do you want to go?”

“I think so,” you nod. “This is your ship after all... you should stay with her.”

“Agreed,” Rossweisse replies calmly. “It seems from the records that we have a uniform.”

It's rather fetching, honestly. Black shoes and long pants under a white waist apron, a white dress shirt under a black vest, and a gem blue necktie. The name badge follows a specific format and is always worn on the left side of the vest, which you can match with a 3d printer aboard the ship.

Easy enough, when matched with ALICE's electronic intrusion abilities. But the question remains, who else should come with you?

>Go alone. Anyone else will just cause more of an issue escaping notice.
>Take Bianca, keep her tattoos covered and her language in check.
>Take a marine. They'll stand out as stiff, but you could use the muscle.
>Other?

>>2265163
>>Take Bianca, keep her tattoos covered and her language in check.
Get Cima to teach her some manners.

>>2265163
>>Take Bianca, keep her tattoos covered and her language in check.
Could have her operating behind the scene as a fall back option I guess? Back up is always welcome.

>>2265163
>>Take Bianca, keep her tattoos covered and her language in check.

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>>2265163
You head down to the hangar deck while Rossweisse starts ordering the individual pieces of the uniforms you'll need to be wearing, and you spot Bianca. She's taking a nap down here when she has quarters assigned? That's... unusual.

“Any reason you'd rather sleep here than in a bed?” you ask, raising your voice slightly to be sure that she hears you.

She groans, disoriented from the sudden wake-up call, but eventually manages a coherent response. “Beds are weird. Too much time in microgravity.”

“I get you,” you sigh. “I had the same problem, it just takes some time.”

“So what do you need?” she asks wearily.

“You're coming with me on a mission tomorrow,” you explain. “We're infiltrating a fancy party dressed as waitstaff.”

“How fancy?” she asks.

“Hundred-million-credit-mansion fancy,” you tell her with a grimace. “This is the family that's secretly been behind it all. Next to the Zabis they have the most to answer for out of anyone.”

“Charming,” she grumbles. “I'm gonna need my beauty sleep if I'm gonna put up with horseshit on that scale.”

“And no swearing,” you remind her. “Not until we're back on the ship.”

“I'll get it all outta the way before we go ashore,” Bianca promises.

“Then see you early in the morning. We'll need to hitch a ride with a supply ship to get in unnoticed.”

>Look into the supposed 'cause' behind this event, learn what you can about it.
>It's risky, but you could probably find some details about the guests before you go.
>Don't mess around and risk showing your hand early.
>Other?

>>2265192
>>Look into the supposed 'cause' behind this event, learn what you can about it.
This seems pretty low-risk

>>2265192
>>Look into the supposed 'cause' behind this event, learn what you can about it.

A peek at the guest list would be nice, but that might be covered within the 2nd option.

>>2265192
>>Look into the supposed 'cause' behind this event, learn what you can about it.

>3d10, higher reveals more information
>critical threshold is 24

Rolled 8, 2, 5 = 15 (3d10)

>>2265251

Rolled 9, 6, 2 = 17 (3d10)

>>2265251
Whatcha got ALICE?

Rolled 3, 9, 5 = 17 (3d10)

>>2265251

>>2265251
You decide to take some time before the rendezvous with your ride to the colony builder to check the event: it's not an invitation-only affair so there is no real guest list available to examine. But the event itself seems to be a political booster for one of the parties in the Republic of Zeon: the “Liberty Party”. They're socially moderate, but fiscally and politically conservative enough that strengthening their position would all but guarantee that the status quo in the Republic will remain stubbornly unchanged for years.

“So that's probably the reason for it all,” you realize.

I wonder if they're going to be there...

“I hope not,” you grumble.

I... think we need to prepare for that possibility.

“Maybe,” you muse.

It really is possible that your parents will be at an event like this. After all these years, it'd be a hell of a trick for fate to play on you.

>Stick to the plan.
>Alter the plan, pack a dress in a purse.
>Have ALICE check your parents' bank statements.
>Other?

>>2265326
>>Alter the plan, pack a dress in a purse.
>>Have ALICE check your parents' bank statements.

>>2265326
>>Alter the plan, pack a dress in a purse.
>>Have ALICE check your parents' bank statements.

>>2265326
>>Alter the plan, pack a dress in a purse.
>>Have ALICE check your parents' bank statements.

>>2265326
>>Alter the plan, pack a dress in a purse.
>>Have ALICE check your parents' bank statements.

>3d10, DC 15, crit 20

Rolled 7, 6, 1 = 14 (3d10)

>>2265340
Awkward reunions ahoy!

Rolled 4, 7, 4 = 15 (3d10)

>>2265340

Rolled 5, 7, 8 = 20 (3d10)

>>2265340

>>2265348
Nice, anon!

>>2265340
You decide that the plan is going to have to change. There's just too much of a chance that you'll run into your parents at this event, and once you're inside being dressed as the wait staff. Not only will it be a problem if someone recognizes you, it would make it more difficult to actually engage with the patrons. So you pack a purse, into which you fit a modest blue dress and heels along with a small purse gun.

The operation goes smoothly. Your contact takes you into the Magallanica without difficulty, and you find the mansion without difficulty as well. It's not exactly difficult, it looks more like a palace than anything else.

Bianca helps you hop the fence, and you're in.

“Let's hope the badges work,” she mutters, following you towards the kitchen.

You shake your head and take off your eyepatch for a moment. “They should. Check in at regular intervals, we'll do what we can to investigate the place.”

The security waves you through, and without an eyepatch to identify you and the apparently legitimate identification you have it's not a problem. They simply assume you belong here and wave you in with all the other waiting staff.

Now comes the difficult part...

>Find a bathroom and change clothing.
>Keep up this charade for a while.
>Immediately canvass the building for your parents.
>Other?

>>2265391
>>Keep up this charade for a while.

>>2265391
>>Immediately canvass the building for your parents.

>>2265391
>>Immediately canvass the building for your parents.

>>2265391
>>Immediately canvass the building for your parents.

>3d10, dc 18, critical 22
>best of four due to a complete lack of urgency or danger

Rolled 5, 3, 9 = 17 (3d10)

>>2265442
Maintain distance for the moment though, if we do indeed catch a glimpse.

Rolled 8, 10, 4 = 22 (3d10)

>>2265442

>>2265462
woot

Rolled 10, 7, 6 = 23 (3d10)

>>2265442

>>2265468
Double woot!

Rolled 4, 2, 2 = 8 (3d10)

>>2265442

>>2265442
You spot them in the larger of the two formal dining rooms, at a table together with a man in a Zeon military dress uniform. It doesn't even take you five minutes of searching... they seem completely unaware of your presence. Not like they ever really paid any attention to you even when you were living in the same house with them.

Step back.

Your sister's right. You immediately backpedal out of the room before you run any risk of being seen by them.

Catrina... I don't know what we should do.

Go with your heart, sis. Though this is important... I don't know when we might get a chance to confront them again.

If you do confront them, you'll be running the risk of the Vists learning of your intrusion. But at the same time, this may be the one shot you'll ever have at gaining some sense of closure over what happened to your family. If you don't take that risk, you'll probably regret it for the rest of your life.

>Step away for a moment, switch outfits.
>Confront them as part of the wait staff.
>Move on. You have other things to be doing.
>Other?

>>2265495
>Step away for a moment, switch outfits.

>>2265495
>>Step away for a moment, switch outfits.

>>2265495
>Step away for a moment, switch outfits.

>>2265495
>>Step away for a moment, switch outfits.
>>Other?
Let Bianca in on the loop while making the switch.

>>2265495
>>Step away for a moment, switch outfits.

>3d10, best of four

Rolled 10, 4, 7 = 21 (3d10)

>>2265534

Rolled 10, 5, 5 = 20 (3d10)

>>2265534

Rolled 3, 4, 8 = 15 (3d10)

>>2265534

Rolled 7, 7, 10 = 24 (3d10)

>>2265534

>>2265570
ayy

>>2265570
Seems fairly conclusive, be back in a minute or five.

>>2265570
You swiftly duck into an empty bathroom and lock the stall door behind you, then change into the dress you brought. Without enough room in your bag for the uniform you've been wearing you're forced to hide it away in the vanity cabinet: if you need it again you can backtrack to find it.

“Are you alright, ma'am?” a male attendant asks you as you step out into the hallway.

“Fine,” you lie. “Freshening up a little, that's all. Have to look my best, you know how it works.”

Back inside the dining room you feel that your arrival has been noticed, as much because you're young and on your own as it is because of your eye. The solid, silvery tone of it stands out perhaps more than your eyepatch would... and it's annoying for you as well trying to consciously hold back seeing several seconds of future at a time.

They're still talking with the man in uniform, your mother laughing politely at a joke. They don't even know what's about to happen.

>Confront them now, but do it quietly. No need to make a fuss.
>Sit down, but don't tell them who you are. See if they even recognize you.
>Wait for the military man to leave the table before sitting down.
>Other?

>>2265580
>>Sit down, but don't tell them who you are. See if they even recognize you.

>>2265580
>>Sit down, but don't tell them who you are. See if they even recognize you.

>>2265580
>Sit down, but don't tell them who you are. See if they even recognize you.

>>2265580
>>Sit down, but don't tell them who you are. See if they even recognize you.

This might compromise the mission

>>2265580
>>Other?
Ask some wait staff (or Bianca) to pass along a message to meet in private. Include something in there that only those in the Marseille family would know intimately.

Rolled 10, 3, 3, 2 = 18 (4d10)

>writing

>>2265626
“Does anyone mind?” you ask, approaching the table and gesturing at the one open chair.

Your parents don't react at first, as if they've tacitly agreed to ignore you, but the Zeon officer gets to his feet and pulls the chair out for you. “Of course not, ma'am. Please.”

“Thank you,” you bow your head politely, taking a seat. “Very kind of you.”

“So are you an acquaintance of the Marseille family, ma'am?” the officer asks, trying to start a conversation.

“You could say so, yes,” you admit, staring your mother straight in her eyes. She looks much older than you remember, more of her hairs are grey and her face has a careworn look to it. The look of comprehension comes slowly, but eventually she begins to realize who you are.

“... Carya?” she asks quietly.

You nod slowly. “You look well, mother.”

“Mother?” the officer asks, confused at first.

“That's right,” you tell him with a stern glare from your good eye. “And if you know what's good for you, Lieutenant, you'll keep this to yourself.”

“Stay seated,” you order as he moves to stand. “Don't make a scene.”

“Daring of you to show what remains of your face here, Carya,” your father tells you in a low voice.

“You've grown a beard, father,” you observe. “It doesn't really add much, but then again you can't fool everyone into thinking you're respectable.”

“I'm really not comfortable here,” the Lieutenant tells you, shifting uneasily in his seat.

“Too bad,” you shoot back before turning back to your parents. “So we take it you're not happy to see us.”

“I can only speak for myself,” your father admits.

Your mother on the other hand refuses to make eye contact. “Why are you here, Carya?”

“We're both here,” you reprimand her. “We've told you already, both your daughters are here.”

She still can't wrap her head around what you are.

>We have evidence that the Vists are financing terrorism. We're here to investigate.
>We're going to explain some things to you, and for the first time you WILL listen.
>What do you know about the people who are here, including your hosts?
>Other?

>>2265675
>>What do you know about the people who are here, including your hosts?

>>2265675
>I'm really not comfortable here
Heh, you think you're uncomfortable now.

>>What do you know about the people who are here, including your hosts?

>>2265675
>other: "mother, if it's still too confusing, calm down... please. It's gonna take a while for this... revelation to sink in."
And Hold mom's hand. She needs some comfort in this something to soothe her while she frays her nerves from the many revelations and years not getting in touch. Also the terrorist investigations. She might faint from the idea that her daughters are risking their lives doing this shit instead of getting boyfriends and settling down.

>>2265675
>>What do you know about the people who are here, including your hosts?

I will also support this >>2265698

>>2265698
>>2265702
In with this

>3d10, DC 18, critical 23
>best of four

Rolled 3, 6, 3 = 12 (3d10)

>>2265719

Rolled 3, 6, 3 = 12 (3d10)

>>2265719
>inb4 mom freaks out.

Rolled 5, 6, 9 = 20 (3d10)

>>2265719

Rolled 3, 1, 2 = 6 (3d10)

>>2265719

Rolled 5, 8, 1 = 14 (3d10)

>>2265719

>>2265729
Nice.
>>2265730
fml

>>2265722
>Rolled 3, 6, 3 = 12 (3d10)
>>2265723
>Rolled 3, 6, 3 = 12 (3d10)

How even?
Nevermind, at least we got a pass.

>>2265719
“Mother,” you continue quietly, grasping her hand and staring her straight in the eye. “Please listen to what we've been trying to tell you: Catrina exists within Carya's mind as a pattern of brainwaves, as a unique and intelligent presence despite lacking her own physical body. She is even capable of piloting a mobile suit on her own... we have primary data that confirm her existence.”

“Why do you keep saying these things?” she demands, visibly upset. “Why must you taunt me when it is our fault she died? Are you truly so bitter?”

She blames herself? Could it really be so simple as that?

She's not completely wrong.

Your parents sent Carya and Catrina to a prestigious military boarding school when they were younger, as was expected of a family of the kind of standing the Marseilles still have. But what they never anticipated was that the students of a military school would one day be drawn into an actual conflict, started by the very Zabis your parents held in such regard. Were it not for that... no. That line of thinking does nobody any good, because you have no way of knowing how things may have gone differently.

As bitter as you still are, it also doesn't make sense for your mother to continue recriminating herself over it. Which leaves you in an uncomfortable place.

>You regret what happened. That's enough to put this behind us.
>We don't hold it against you. But refusing to acknowledge Catrina's existence stung... a lot.
>Father, what do you have to say about all this?
>Other?

>>2265816
>You regret what happened. That's enough to put this behind us.
>other: Evolve the hand holding into a hug.

>>2265837
>>You regret what happened. That's enough to put this behind us.
>>other: Evolve the hand holding into a hug.

>>2265837
Supporting this

>>2265816
>We don't hold it against you. But refusing to acknowledge Catrina's existence stung... a lot.

>hugging someone in the chair next to you awkwardly
>while trying to keep a low-ish profile
I know you guys like to try for feels, but I'm not doing this.

>>2265864
Fair enough, remove the hug, then.

>>2265816
>>You regret what happened. That's enough to put this behind us.

>>2265864
fine... but I demand muh hugs at the end of this!

>>2265816
“We may never be a normal family, not after everything that's happened,” you begin, blinking slowly as you think your words through carefully. “But you finally told us how you really feel, and that's a start. We just hope some day you'll stop treating us like we're insane and start trusting us a little.”

“And how could we trust you, whatever it is you've become?” your father demands sharply, but without ever raising his voice. “You betrayed the people of Zeon.”

“We didn't betray anyone,” you assert, matching your father's glare. “We were only ever loyal to our people... the Zabis were only ever loyal to themselves. Not even to each other.”

For the first time that you can remember, your father doesn't argue back at you.

“Father, we'd understand if you disagree with our decisions,” you press, “but they weren't your decisions to make. They were ours, because our generation were the ones called on to fight and die for a cause that we were told was our own.”

>The Zabis were monsters, so we stood against them. We're doing the same to today's monsters even now.
>We're not the perfect little Zeon soldier you might have wanted, we're better than that. We're better than you.
>You don't get it. The Zabis, the Federation forces, the colonies... all just pawns on a board they can't even see.
>Other?

>>2265972
>The Zabis were monsters, so we stood against them. We're doing the same to today's monsters even now.

>>2265972
>We're not the perfect little Zeon soldier you might have wanted, we're better than that. We're better than you.

>>2265972
>>We're not the perfect little Zeon soldier you might have wanted, we're better than that.
Leave out the last bit.

>>2266019
Yeah, let's go with this.

>>2265972
You sigh, shaking your head. “We can't be the perfect little Zeon soldiers you might have wanted us to be, father. But we've become something better than that, and neither one of us regrets it. So we won't apologize.”

Your father is quietly taken aback, but soon collects himself. “I never wanted you to be a soldier at all. But changing sides in the middle of a war... I was not prepared for a daughter of mine to do such a thing.”

“That's what we mean,” you repeat the sentiment. “You'd feel differently if you were there.”

“Perhaps,” your father admits. “However, you did not come here to see us, did you? If you had wanted to track us down like that our location and schedule are hardly a state secret, so why now? Why here?”

“Do you know what it is we do?” you ask.

Your mother nods subtly. “Some. We know you work about as far from us as you can get most of the time.”

“But the details we hear are sorely lacking,” your father explains. “You could have settled down on an exoplanet somewhere and had a child, and we would never know.”

Well...

“We're not gonna say that you're not grandparents...”

“You had a child?” your mother asks, sounding as breathless for that one moment as a normal parent might if her daughter had a child. “When?”

“Right about two years ago,” you explain. “But that's not why we're here.”

>We're here on a mission of our own. Counter-terrorism... stopping the nuclear strike on Mars was our work.
>We came to investigate the Vist's financial dealings. If you have anything that could help us, we'd be grateful.
>We don't want you involved in our work... we may be dysfunctional, but we won't expose our family to that.
>Other?

>>2266087
>>We're here on a mission of our own. Counter-terrorism... stopping the nuclear strike on Mars was our work.
As an aside, if we have any, would it be in character of CC to show her mom a picture of her kid? Maybe at the end of the encounter/before we leave?

>>2266087
>We don't want you involved in our work due to safety reasons I hope the two of you can understand...As to what we do... stopping the nuclear strike on Mars was "one" example of what we do on our job.
>

>this will be the last update of the session

>>2266087
>We don't want you involved in our work... we may be dysfunctional, but we won't expose our family to that.

>>2266144
“We can't tell you that,” you sigh sadly. “To give you an idea of the kind of work we do, you remember that nuclear incident in the Mariner Valley?”

“The one that nearly killed their Queen?” the Lieutenant asks, finally finding the nerve to speak up.

“We've heard some reports,” your father tells you.

“We were the ones who stopped it.”

“That cannot...” your mother begins. But then her eyes widen. “You did?”

You nod calmly. “Yes. Yes we did.”

“Then why are you here?” your father repeats the question. “If your work is that serious, why have you wasted the time here?”

You pause, but eventually settle on giving him the truth. “For the closure.”

“Carya,” your mother finally addresses you. “I... I do not know what to believe. I will admit that. However, I can understand that if your business here is as important as it sounds I do not want to keep you. And though your father may not be much of a conversationalist...”

“By choice,” your father admits gruffly.

“... but he understands that there are more important things than any disagreement he may have with you,” your mother concludes. “So please. Do what you came here to do.”

After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you reach into your purse. Your fingertips brush against your sidearm as they search for two things... a tiny photograph of your little boy, and a pen.

“This is your grandson,” you tell your mother, before flipping the image over and writing out a string of numbers and letters on the blank space. “And this is our contact information... the publicly-available information, that is. We don't expect anything, but if you feel like it at some point... we'd be willing to tell you how we've been doing.”

>>2266179
And that's all for tonight, it's 1am and I need to do stuff in the morning. Archive is up, and keep an eye on twitter and the discord for updates on when I'll continue. But assume it'll be same time next weekend.

Hope you had a good time, and hope to see you next time!

>>2266196
thanks for the run queen. the thread ending in closure with Carya finally reuniting with her parents and heading into the business side of the visit gave me some fuzzies.

>>2266196
Ah man, I thought I had it in me to keep up with an update or two. Apparently not.

Those were some nicely handled scenes, so good on you all! Glad it worked out towards a chance for reconciliation and didn't end up with alienating Carya's family. In stark contrast to Gundam's tendency to royally fuck up with development among family members.

>should be continuing in this thread in a little more than 2 hours

>>2281751
You've never been one for empty sentimentality, but this time... this time you need this. Just a few moments to yourself, a few moments to gather your thoughts and get them under control. And so you find yourself back in the bathroom, staring into the mirror. The years have changed the face you see looking back at you: her features are more careworn, and of course her eye is an unnatural solid silver. You can see her gaze soften, her eyes burn... a fist slams the mirror, and your forehead rests against it.

No. You don't want to see her cry. Anything but that.

It takes a few minutes to start feeling prepared to go back out there again, and before you do you make sure to wash your face with cold water. Especially under your eyes, where the chill constricts the blood vessels and reduces the telltale puffiness.

You look fine. Don't worry about it.

“Yeah,” you nod, watching a more familiar expression return to your features. “Yeah, we're ready.”

Now, you've had your moment. Time to put what happened behind you and get back to work. You still figure that the Vist Foundation has an end goal, as well as a way to get there, and you need to discern what that might be before they put whatever they may have planned into motion.

>Use a made-up “allergy” as an excuse to work your way to where Bianca is, check in with her.
>See what you can discern by listening in on the conversations, let Bianca come and find you.
>Play the part of a lost guest, see if you can find a place to do a little digging for intelligence.

>>2282016
>>Use a made-up “allergy” as an excuse to work your way to where Bianca is, check in with her.

>>2282016
>>Use a made-up “allergy” as an excuse to work your way to where Bianca is, check in with her.
But Carya, an allergy to bullshit is real!

>>2282016
>>Use a made-up “allergy” as an excuse to work your way to where Bianca is, check in with her.

>3d10, dc 17, no crit

Rolled 4, 7, 10 = 21 (3d10)

>>2282055

Rolled 10, 8, 2 = 20 (3d10)

>>2282055
Here we go, SoZ dice time!

Rolled 9, 7, 7 = 23 (3d10)

>>2282055

>>2282055
“I'm terribly sorry,” you say, approaching one of the wait staff, “but I have a series of dietary restrictions that I should really speak with the kitchen about.”

“Ma'am, I apologize that the kitchen is out of bounds for guests,” the young woman replies politely. “Perhaps I can relay your concerns, or bring you something else off the menu?”

“The problem is that my family practices vegetarianism for religious reasons,” you lie, your tone pleading quietly, “and I myself am allergic to mushrooms. Which means I can't eat anything on the menu, since the only options with no meat or fish in them use either cheese or mushroom as a main ingredient.”

“I see,” the waitress nods thoughtfully. “That could be a problem. They tend to use mushrooms as a meat substitute, don't they?”

“Yes, it really does tend to be a problem,” you lie again, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “Sorry...”

“No, it's okay,” the nice waitress insists patiently, glancing over her shoulder. “Look... I have to make the rounds, so just go back to the kitchen and tell them Leina told you it was okay.”

“Thank you so much!” you thank 'Leina' warmly. “This will make things so much simpler.”

“I figure someone as nice as you are has their reasons,” she tells you with a calm smile.

“You're very perceptive, Leina,” you offer, your own smile taking on a more knowing character. “As thanks, let me offer you some advice: given what you are, you should play your hand closer to your chest in situations like this. Otherwise you might find trouble.”

“Does that come from experience?” she asks.

You nod quietly. “It does.”

“Then I'll keep it in mind, miss...”

You shake your head. “Find me another time, maybe. But right now, I decline.”

Leina looks disappointed, but walks away anyway, seeming to accept your position.
>1/2

File: mig.jpg (23 KB, 265x238)

23 KB JPG

>>2282115
The kitchen is bustling, but that suits you just fine.

“Leina suggested I come here to let you know that I can't eat anything on the menu,” you explain, sticking to your lie, “for various reasons.”

You're shown to the counters where a chef leans over to speak with you. “So you say you're a vegetarian and you can't eat mushrooms?”

“That's right sir, yes,” you nod.

“I have a few tofu recipes,” the chef muses. “Do you have any requests or am I free to use my discretion?”

You shake your head. “By all means, if you want to experiment a little I do not mind. I have every confidence.”

“Thank you,” the chef grins, seemingly buoyed by your words. “It shouldn't take long, but I'll send someone out to take care of you until then.”

As it turns out, the waitress sent to 'take care of you' has a familiar face.

“So how are things out there?” Bianca asks.

“A lot of Republic officers,” you explain, “including some flag grade. But I'm afraid I got somewhat siedtracked... my parents were there.”

“Your parents?” Bianca frowns, seeming to understand the tone the conversation's taken. “You okay?”

You nod quietly. “Yeah. It... wasn't as bad as I expected it to be.”

“Well that's something.”

>What have you learned so far, if anything?
>I should probably range a little further from this room.
>We should work together, canvass the room thoroughly.
>Other?

>>2282141
>>I should probably range a little further from this room.

>>2282141
>>I should probably range a little further from this room.
>>What have you learned so far, if anything?
Plan it ahead so there's no overlap or redundancies in the areas or people that we'll be looking at.

>>2282141
>I should probably range a little further from this room.

>>2282141
>What have you learned so far, if anything?

>>2282141
“We think it's a good idea to divide our focus,” you suggest. “You can remain here and canvass this room as best you can. Once our dinner here is done we'll start poking around the mansion, try and find any other possible sources of information.”

“Like an unguarded computer?” Bianca asks.

You nod once. “Or something similar.”

Your conversation is cut short when an actual waiter comes out to check on you, and Bianca is obliged to carry a tray of little cocktail snacks out into the main hall. A small glass of wine arrives for you, followed not long afterward by a small bowl of brightly yellow-colored broth with grilled tofu and red peppers. It's strongly flavored... the peppers are slightly spicy, and there's tumeric, coconut, and ginger in there too. The little hit of lime you were also given to top the dish with adds a beautiful aroma, too.

“This is excellent,” you can honestly report to the chef after your meal is done. “Thank you so much.”

“It was my pleasure!”

>Try heading upstairs, see if you can find someplace with a computer.
>Upstairs? No. The real sketchy stuff has to be downstairs for sure.
>Stick to areas where someone might conceivably just wander into.
>Other?

>>2282260
>>Upstairs? No. The real sketchy stuff has to be downstairs for sure.

>>2282260
>>Upstairs? No. The real sketchy stuff has to be downstairs for sure.

>>2282260
>>Upstairs? No. The real sketchy stuff has to be downstairs for sure.
If it's got electronically locked doors and stuff, hopefully ALICE is within access to work her magic. Otherwise, I reckon a side trip to some study room might be the way to go.

>3d10, DC 18, crit 23

Rolled 3, 1, 6 = 10 (3d10)

>>2282308

Rolled 9, 10, 1 = 20 (3d10)

>>2282308

Rolled 5, 7, 3 = 15 (3d10)

>>2282308

Rolled 2, 10, 10 = 22 (3d10)

>>2282308

>had to take care of something, writing

>>2282358
Down the hall from the reception area you find a stairwell, one that leads both up and down from the floor you're on. But only one way has guards, and that's down.

There are two of them, armed with pistols at their hips. Even if you succeeded in knocking them out silently their absence would probably be swiftly noticed, cutting your time downstairs short at best... but at worst leaving you and Bianca trapped inside a mansion where you shouldn't be in the first place.

Which leaves you one realistic option.

You backtrack to the main stairs, which only lead up a floor from the foyer, and go up a floor. It's difficult to weave past the domestic staff but with a party in full swing you spy a few openings, and manage to slip by more than one distracted man in uniform. Once you reach the same stairwell as before you step carefully down the stairs, until you reach the midpoint of the flight that would take you right past the guards from before. Then you take off your fancy shoes, holding them in your teeth by the straps, and lower yourself over the handrail until you're holding onto the treads with your fingertips.

Slowly and carefully you climb down, grasping the side of the stairs... awkward, and draining, but well below the watchful eyes of the guards. You turn the corner, passing quietly behind the guards, then turn the corner again and continue down the next flight and into the first basement level.

I think you should be clear... you didn't even drop your heels.

You tend to agree, and pull yourself silently back over the guard rail before sliding your shoes back on.

Now then. Unarmed and alone, in the basement of a mansion owned by a decades-old cartel of businessmen and terrorists, you slink down a hallway that will hopefully lead you to some dirt that justifies the trip...
>3d10, higher is better

Rolled 9, 1, 4 = 14 (3d10)

>>2282417

Rolled 5, 3, 8 = 16 (3d10)

>>2282417

Rolled 1, 4, 6 = 11 (3d10)

>>2282417

>>2282417
You don't actually find much in the basement.

There are a few locked rooms you don't have the proper tools to unlock, and a few open rooms that appear to contain nothing more insidious than cleaning supplies... which of course a mansion this size has to have in abundance. There's a laundry room too, which you avoid because there's someone actually working in there at the moment.

The one suspicious thing you find is an elevator, which seems to only go down from this floor. The problem is that the doors are guarded as well, and unlike the stairwell there's no sneaking past these two fine gentlemen.

>Knock these two goons out and see what's downstairs.
>Head back upstairs, see if you can lift some keys off the guards at the top of the stairs.
>Investigate the supply cabinets, see if there's anything to work with.
>Bug out, get upstairs.

>>2282473
>>Knock these two goons out and see what's downstairs.

>>2282473
>>Knock these two goons out and see what's downstairs.

>>2282473
>>Investigate the supply cabinets, see if there's anything to work with.
If anything, they can be used to keep unconscious goons out of sight. Provided we get lucky to get to that point.

>3d10, higher as usual is better, bare minimum is a 16

Rolled 3, 6, 4 = 13 (3d10)

>>2282519

Rolled 10, 4, 6 = 20 (3d10)

>>2282519

Rolled 9, 6, 3 = 18 (3d10)

>>2282519

>initiating protocol "drunk partygoer"

>>2282570
I get the feeling that, behind the scenes, Carya put up with a significant number of annoyances and is channeling their personalities in these acts.

>>2282570
Okay, time for a little acting.

Catrina, be ready to act in case this goes wrong.

Sis, what are you...

You step out into plain view with a stumble, and the guards immediately reach for their sidearms.

“This isn't the bathroom either?” you slur carefully, keeping your artificial eye mostly shut. “Can't a girl catch a break?”

“Ma'am you shouldn't be here,” one of the guards insists sternly, turning to his partner. “How did she even get down here?”

“Beats me.”

“You're right,” you sigh, wobbling on your feet a little as you walk towards them. “I should be upstairs with my fiance, the rat bastard... hey, either of you fine gentlemen lookin' to settle down?”

“Is this chick for real?”

“Look,” the first guard tells you, taking a few steps forward to meet you. “I think someone needs to walk you upstairs, miss...”

Your movement is as precise and powerful as it is unexpected, catching the guard under the chin. Then you slam your fist into his gut, turn in place, and throw him at his partner. There's a loud grunt of exertion, but the second man doesn't even get a word out before you break his jaw and slam his head into the wall.

The two guards slump to the ground, and you grab a likely-looking ID card from one of their collars. Swiping it causes the doors to open, and you drag the bodies into the elevator with you.

It only goes down for a few seconds, and eventually you drag the bodies out into a much more functional, minimalistic hallway.

Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

What should I tell Rossweisse, sis?

I'm inside the hull of the Magellanica, below the mansion. Looks like an access space, only question is what it accesses...
>1/2

>>2282624
>The markings on the floor suggest a hangar of sorts down the main hallway.
>There's something else down here... like an ominous presence in the back of your mind.
>Look for any way to get into their computer systems, take anything you can access.
>Other?

>>2282646
>>There's something else down here... like an ominous presence in the back of your mind.

>>2282646
>>There's something else down here... like an ominous presence in the back of your mind.

>>2282646
>>There's something else down here... like an ominous presence in the back of your mind.

>3d10, higher is better
>there will be another roll immediately after this one

Rolled 5, 10, 9 = 24 (3d10)

>>2282717

Rolled 9, 5, 2 = 16 (3d10)

>>2282717

Rolled 6, 7, 7 = 20 (3d10)

>>2282717

>>2282717
You finally get clear idea of what you're feeling here: it's a newtype, but it's hard to tell whether they're totally calm or in distress. But you can more or less sense the direction you need to go, down a hallway that's maybe ten or fifteen meters to your left.

>3d10, best of three
>DC 18, Crit 20

Rolled 7, 2, 6 = 15 (3d10)

>>2282798

Rolled 3, 9, 3 = 15 (3d10)

>>2282798

Rolled 3, 9, 5 = 17 (3d10)

>>2282798
Oh boy. After the Jovians, the likelihood of another EXAM subject seems high.

Fug. So close to a clutch pass.

>>2282798
After all the skillful maneuvering and lightning-fast engagement, you finally reach something that could justify your being here. Some actual, concrete evidence that the Vist Foundation is doing something sick and twisted down here. You check the safeties on your stolen handguns and flick them off, then carefully turn the door handle to ease it open...

“Hey, there's someone outside!” you hear a male voice inside the room declare.

“Then deal with it!” an unpleasant female voice orders.

>Breach and clear.
>Bail. If you went in there now you might not be leaving this mansion.
>Other?

>>2282831
>>Breach and clear.

>>2282831
>>Breach and clear.

>>2282831
>>Breach and clear.

>use of the forbidden eye is presumed in this scenario
>3d10, best of 4
>dc 18, critical 23

File: Yea+it+to+hide+the+true+p(...).jpg (98 KB, 1280x720)

98 KB JPG

Rolled 9, 5, 2 = 16 (3d10)

>>2282889
>forbidden eye
JAOSHINGAN

Rolled 5, 2, 9 = 16 (3d10)

>>2282889
I spy with my newtype eye.

Rolled 10, 5, 9 = 24 (3d10)

>>2282889

>>2282901
YOU HAVE SAVED US

>>2282910
Literally. A failure here would have meant Carya takes a bullet in the gut.

>>2282901
Yeah, I'd say that's about as good as it's gonna get for our first crit of the session. Nicely done!

>>2282901
There are a few different ways that you try it before you actually break into the room, and each time ends with a bullet of some kind in various parts of your body. But then you come to a realization: there isn't a way that you break in without getting hit by a bullet.

So you try something different.

You breach the door and feel a thump in your chest... as a bullet fragments against the second pistol held against the precise spot where you knew it would hit. It leaves a little nick in your left hand and on your jawline, but the shot from the pistol in your right hand hits the shooter in his right hand. The cracked frame on your left-hand gun makes it worthless now, so you carefully grasp it by the base of the magazine and release the weapon itself onto the floor.

“Don't even try it!” you order as the older woman reaches for the pistol she's carrying in her waistband of her pantsuit.

“What are you doing here?” she demands in the tone of a woman unused to getting resistance from people she believes are beneath her. “I demand an explanation for this unacceptable breach in...”

“Shhhh...” you interrupt her, tapping the spare magazine to your lips before tucking it into your bra strap. “I don't give a shit what you think. Just tell me what you think you're doing here.”

“What business of it is...”

“This is a cyber-newtype lab,” you realize, glancing about at the various equipment and monitors all around the room. “Don't try to deny it, I know better than anyone.”

“And what makes you think you will ever leave this place?” the woman sneers.

“I have more backup than you do,” you reply. “Not to mention faster reflexes than those soldiers you have charging up here.”

“Call them off or I end it right here.”

After a moment of contemplation, the portly woman slowly reaches into her pocket and pulls out a phone.

“False alarm, you can return to your duties.”

Your sense of impending danger lessens immediately, but doesn't disappear entirely.

>Who is the girl, what have you done to her?
>What is all this about anyway? What's it all for?
>I'm leaving with that girl. No negotiations.
>Other?

>>2283012
>>I'm leaving with that girl. No negotiations.

>>2283012
>>I'm leaving with that girl. No negotiations.

>3d10, higher is better

Rolled 6, 3, 10 = 19 (3d10)

>>2283096

Rolled 3, 6, 10 = 19 (3d10)

>>2283096

Rolled 3, 6, 9 = 18 (3d10)

>>2283096

>>2283096
“That girl and I are leaving,” you tell her bluntly. “This is non-negotiable.”

“And what if I order you shot?” Martha Vist muses. “I could simply take the girl back when you're dead.”

“Then my partner would put a twenty-kilogram ferric slug into this little facility of yours in retribution,” you inform her calmly. “Kiss your fat ass goodbye.”

“I will not be spoken to that way,” she insists, puffing up in indignation.

“Cut the bullshit,” you snort. “You know you're at the disadvantage here.”

She glances at the comatose girl, then back to you. “Take her.”

You scoop the blonde girl out of her bed, thin disposable covers and all, and rest her over your left shoulder where she hangs lifelessly.

“Preserving her modesty?” Martha Vist scowls. “What a joke. A created thing has no such thing to preserve.”

Your finger tightens slightly on the trigger.

Sis... don't.

>Put a round in her leg as a parting gift.
>Hold back, for now.
>Dominic had a theory, about 'establishing dominance'.
>Other?

>>2283143
>>Dominic had a theory, about 'establishing dominance'.
Shiny.
but we don't have a D to give her, Descartes

>>2283143
>>Dominic had a theory, about 'establishing dominance'.

>>2283143
>>Dominic had a theory, about 'establishing dominance'.

>3d10, best of four
>higher means Martha is even MORE of a bitch

Rolled 5, 2, 6 = 13 (3d10)

>>2283200

Rolled 5, 6, 2 = 13 (3d10)

>>2283200
>>>I'm leaving with that girl. No negotiations.

>Martha
WHY DID YOU SAY THAT NAME

Anyone still around, feel free to roll as many times as you want. I wanna get this last post in.

Rolled 4, 7, 7 = 18 (3d10)

>>2283271
>>2283200

Rolled 6, 2, 10 = 18 (3d10)

>>2283271

Rolled 2, 10, 4 = 16 (3d10)

>>2283271

Rolled 9, 10, 4 = 23 (3d10)

>>2283271

>>2283271
You treat the woman to an unusually sharp glare... the trick as Dominic learned is to use your Newtype presence to make your opposite understand that you will kill them. And so that's exactly what you do.

It doesn't go off exactly like you thought it might, but it's enough that she instinctively takes a step away from you. “Who... just who the hell are you?”

“You already know me,” you grumble. “And you should know already what will happen if you send your goons after me. Be reasonable, just cut your losses this time.”

All you get in response is a hateful sneer, so you turn and leave the room. There's nothing more meaningful that either of you can say to one another.

You reach the elevator without difficulty, but you also sense something that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. As soon as the doors open you're firing, two rounds catching the stairwell guards in their shoulders and sending them sprawling.

“Sis, I could really use your help here!” you shout, running up the stairs as fast as your heels and your burden will allow you.

Already on it, sis!

There's another brief exchange of gunfire in the hallway, but you swiftly reach the main foyer where the waiting staff are escorting the fancy-dressed guests out of the building... including Leina, who waves you through with a knowing nod. You shift the girl in your arms, hiding your pistol under her, and follow the crowd out into the wide circular driveway.

A car pulls up, having cut across the grass. “Get in, Captain!”

Thankful for the support you pile into the back seat of the stolen car with the girl. The tires squeal as the marine reverses back down the driveway before speeding towards your evac point.

“So what's the story with the girl?” Bianca asks from the driver's seat, the chaos having apparently been left behind you.

“We don't know yet,” you admit. “But take a close look at her face and you'll know why I couldn't just leave her there.”

“I'm driving, partner,” Bianca insists, keeping her eyes on the road. “Gimme the short of it?”

“It's a clone of Artesia.”

The tires squeal as Bianca swerves, losing her calm for a moment.

“You what now?”

Oh shit.

>>2283385
>Postscript
"Yes, she was here."

A long silence. "She has the primary."

Martha Vist Carbine holds out her phone from her ear for several seconds, a look of disdain etched into her features.

"Are you finished?" she asks, returning the handset to her cheek. "Good. This is simply the reason we have contingencies. Thaw the secondary..."

"... of course I'm positive," she snaps. "Do as I say and maybe we'll both get to survive this."

"What of the wounded? They failed to uphold their end of a contact. You know what to do."

>Thanks for stopping by, and hope you enjoyed!
>See you next week, keep an eye on Twitter and/or the Discord for any notices

>>2283447
Damn, I missed out on a ton of happening again!

Seems to me like it might be connected to the Char clone incident back in Sweetwater colony. If so, Artesia's gonna be doubly pissed.

Also, that 'Leina' is Judau's imouto?
From Carya's interaction, it seems she displayed some newtype potential here.

>>2283447
Maybe we should have just shot Martha.
Villains always seem so surprised when someone just shoots them instead of letting them monologue.

>>2284575
desu I didn't feel like actually killing Martha in cold blood at a gala in her own mansion was in character for Carya, though kneecapping her on the way out was within the realm of possibility.

If she'd provoked Martha into drawing first that'd also be a different story, but the unexpected success in Carya's initial action phase meant Martha's slow ass never had a chance to react.