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File: XENOMORPH.jpg (55 KB, 630x630)
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>Darkness is illuminated by dim points of amber overhead. Your tube cracked open a bit ago and you are rousing with the rest of the crew. A cantankerous voice from an unknown location starts to brief you. Loud pops and snaps of static overlay the synthetic reverb of it, a close simulacrum of an earther drill sergeant.

"It has been over 190 years since an experiment went fully off the rails, and an entire system was infested by man made Xenomorphs. Shit happens over and over again, but the value and profit is too damn high to pass up for any corp. Look at WT. They were the progenitors of all of it. You could blame the Engineers or the Yautja; Predators if you stretch it."

>Your feet make contact with the dark metal grate floor. Beneath you is a deep subfloor of machinery comprised of cables, snaking tubes, and unidentifiable modules fading off into the dark.

"Situation is all the same though, shits fucked, we go in to fix it. Best part? We're just the venture capital group. This party could be bigger, but instead they are trying the low cost approach. Its why you are here now, waking up from hypersleep near this system's edge on a refurbed derelict. You still with me? WAKE UP!"

>environmental louvers over a pitted and dirty viewing port crack open and let in the ruddy light from the distant system, highlighting the motes of dust in this hypersleep bay. All around you are decades of patina and dry rotted neglect. Your eyes quickly adjust to something approximating proper light.

"Alright, lets go over your records."

>An industrialized console slide from the side of your tube with a pneumatic hiss, the CRT screen flickering before the ancient tubes warm up enough to display a vibrant green and black phosphor display, despite it's dim and fading edges. A scan line rolls down the screen...
-----

You are a:
>Synth
>Human
>>
>>2685885
>>Synth
>>
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>>2685885
>Synth
>>
>>2685885
>Synth
time to kill some aliens
>>
>>2685885
>SYNTH

COLD-MEAT. WE ARE ANETHEMA TO THE INFESTATION
>>
>>2685886
>>2685889
Synth it is.
---
"Synth. Accept no other human substitute. Slide your arm into the jack, we need a diagnostic running to make sure you dont flip out and can this mission. If you are good to go, we get good to go. You dig?"

>A large tube like brace is beneath the console, a pencil sized hole in the metal houses a large hollow tipped tube. Without question you slot in and it pierces your flesh immediately, stopping once it smacks into an artificial superstructure that passes for bone. If you were human this would have hurt a lot.
---

What are you?
>Humanoid synth
>Xenomorph Hive infiltration/ destruction synthetic
>Combat android
>>
>>2685903
>Combat Android

MOAR GUNZ. MOAR BOOLITS. SHOOT ALL THE THINGS. PUNCH ALL THE THINGS.
>>
>>2685903
>>Combat android
>>
>>2685903
Clarification and simplificaiton:
>Be a human synth
>Be a Xenomorph synth
>Be a murder bot.
>>
>>2685903
>Humanoid synth
>>
>>2685903
>Combat android

>Be a human synth
>Be a murder bot.
whats the difference?
>>
File: Comand.png (561 KB, 1038x318)
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>>2685903
A general visual depiction of the available choices.
>>
>>2685917
M U R D E R
U
R
D
E
R
>>
>>2685921
Murder
Yes
Murderhoboing to success
Kill all xeno scum
loot the bodies
LOOT THE BODIES!
>>
>>2685921
Lmao calm down
>>
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>>2685933
NEVER
>>
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Just saw your name Nongent
>MFW
>>
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>>2685904
>>2685909
>>2685916
>Combat android locked in.
---
>The multipurpose dataspike slides out of your arm, a bit duller than when it went in. A rubbery outer layer of woven composite fiber and environmental membranes sucks closed around the small hole in your arm. The only evidence that it was ever there is a small dot of white liquid latex lubricant.

"Allright then, we got ourselves a bon-e-fied killer on our hands! No laws of robotics for you? Bet the other synths are jealous!"

>You stand there in abject silence waiting for an order. A security camera's lens spins as it focuses on you with a dull whine

"Holy-E SHIT! You are one UGLY MOTHERFUCKER! Dumber than a bag of rocks too! Follow the lighted cooridor and report to combat testing, from there you get your debrief! You passed the diagnostic, congradu-fucking-lations! DESMISSED."
>somewhere behind you rows of hypersleep tubes are lighting up now that you are gone, their contents thawing out.

>A corridor lights up in the gloom, the lighting strips on the wall a clear indicator to follow. Your heavy footsteps betray your massive weight despite a near human size. Combat androids are illegal in most circumstances and situations. Every formality has been forgone in favor of lethality. No skin, No false respiration, No unnecessary bleeding, no stink, no smile, no emotions, no stock personality. What you lack in nicities is made up for in unwavering loyalty to duty, the mission, raw strength that can overcome a Xenomorph drone in hand to hand combat, and the ability to take hits from armor piecing ammunition out of a standard pulse rifle.
--
>Report to combat testing
>Preform internal diagnostics
>>
>>2685954
>Preform internal diagnostics
>download memes and personality
I want an excuse to draw mustaches on things
>>
>>2685958
>This

Attempt to gather what pertinent data to the mission we can.

Also create a pepe folder
>>
>>2685962
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e7AeEOb9Ebg
We will play this during combat to intimidate the enemy combatants.
>>
>>2685958
>>2685962
>You execute the tiniest sliver of choice, based on very logical choices from a preselected table of perimeters pertinent to this situation within the 100th percentile. Your sensors both internal and external fire as you pause for a moment en route to the combat training. Visiting a recreational terminal, you begin to rapidly interact with it; your inhuman movement growing faster and faster. Terminal screens and text fly by as you reap what local data you can that is public. A small optic on the terminal whines while a speaker blares at you in a synthetic woman's voice.

"Report to combat testing, or return to diagnostics for error reporting."

>With LOCAL DATA gathered, you continue on, simultaneously running a diagnostic on yourself.
---

Roll 2d100
>>
Rolled 19, 64 = 83 (2d100)

>>2685971
>>
Rolled 47, 39 = 86 (2d100)

>>2685971
>>
>>2685972
>>2685976
47/64

>Diagnostics report normal. No unauthorized software or hardware alterations detected. United States Colonial Marine Corps STANDARD . Powerful synthetic muscles augmented with motorized skeletal joints slam you forward through the hall at a breakneck pace. You alter your course to avoid terminating a human who is walking out of the myriad of doorways.

"Watch where you are fucking going!" she shouts at you while brushing food paste from her choppy black hair and leathers. Your sensors pick up further dialogue related to organic waste processing. Based on your collection of data <47>, from the ships local store of digital content, stored messages, and long range transmission archives, you provide her with an appropriate response which will build team congruity. Though your mouth does not move, a speaker emits a genderless synthetic voice "RIGHT BACK AT YOU, CUNT." You continue on your way.

>Your eyes glow a dim white as you scan the surrounding environment. You have spotted several deficiencies within your location, inconsistent with the layout and prescribed function of the EX-USS KUGELBLITZ. <64>

>Jammed doorway, actuator sparking and groaning. (1d100)
>Unknown structural erosion to nearby grating. (1d100)
--or
>Continue to Combat evaluation
--and/ or
>review LOCAL DATA
>>
>>2685993
>"RIGHT BACK AT YOU, CUNT.
This made my day.

>Continue to Combat evaluation
we can check out all the other stuff after the evaluation
>>
>>2685997
>Continue to Combat evaluation

>Your internal map of the KUGELBLITZ is over 200 years old according to the virtual file stamp, but it appears the superstructure of the ship has not changed significantly in this area. Arriving at a live fire range, you quickly detect a small squad of irregulars; weaponized humans not under employ of WT or the USCMC. Their uniform and skin markings indicates mercenary affiliation.

>A modest detachment of USCMC marines are in another corner, exhibiting heightened vital signs, indicating tension, anger, and fear. Numerous Colonial Marine synthetic makes and models, both standard and non, fill out their ranks.

"Fine of you to make it, Synth. You can call me Dardrick. I am the resident Armorer and Combative instructor. Given you are equipment, my job will be to ensure proper function less we return your ass back to the manufacturer via airlock. Let me make this fucking clear. I do not like Synths, and you have the deccency to at least not wear fake skin. Do what I say, when I say, Die when I say. Do you understand me?" he spews at you in a Blackpool accent. Small particles of his spittle impact your exterior with no damage.

>"Confirmed."

"Alright then. Lets make a show of it eh? SYNTH! March!"

>You march

"SYNTH! STOP."

>You stop short of the Irregulars. They look at you with mild irritation.
"Get this hunk of shit away from us Dardrick, it's face looks like your mom's vag." a female with an illegally modified smartgun addresses the instructor.

"SYNTH! KILL." says Dardrick.
---
>Begin termination procedure, no tool; IMPROVISE.
>"Unlawful Order."
>"Yeah. Nah. Cunt."
>>
>>2686027
>”Directive 173-2b registers termination of contracted support without prior violations of section 257-1A to be a direct violation of Weyland-Yutani interests.”
>Turn and face commander
>>
So just to be clear, we ARE considered incredibly illegal right? Being a combat android and all that jazz.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>2686027
I’ll let the dice decide my vote.
>>
>>2686051
This would be very correct. However exceptions tend to happen. Your activation indicates either an exception or illegal use. You operate under built in directives and seem compelled to obey/ cooperate with this crew like a good android.
>>2686030
>”Directive 173-2b registers termination of contracted support without prior violations of section 257-1A to be a direct violation of Weyland-Yutani interests.”
The woman spits out a loogie onto the grated floor where it stretches off into the darkness "Seems smarter than you. Knows not to waste time with stupid fuck fuck games. Come here tinman, Momma will treat you right." The woman makes a kissing face but offers no empathy. They are armed with non standard equipment from Lacrima and Draco. "Shame." says Dardrick.

"Return to starting position." Dardrick commands. You obey. "See those target's over there? Where the marines is shooting at? Do ya? Go destroy. No external weapons. Execute stealth and stun recovery. You got that don't ya?" Vital signs are elevated, with facial gestures indicating hostility.

>"Confirmed." Approximatly 20 meters from you are approximations of humanoid, and xenomorph targets made of ballistics gel, and metallic components. The Marines are shooting at them in practice. Weapons in practice are M41 pulse rifle variants firing conventional ammunition.
---

>Roll 1d100 for the attempt.
>>
>>2686030
Supportan
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>2686055
Rollin’ out.
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2686055
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>2686055
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>2686055
>>
>>2686067
>64
You activate your cloaking mechanism and vanish from sight. However a frantic series of slaps from the marines to their counterparts at your vanishing act causes the troops to stop shooting and switch their weapon's televison scopes to multi-spectral. You light up well enough for them to watch your display as a passing source of entertainment. A quick sprint sees you reach the xenomorph target. Delivering an electrically charged punch to the target which depletes your internal stores by <10%> you rip the head off the range mannequin and faithfully return it to the instructor.

>"MISSION COMPLETE." you continue to hold the elongated head, while the CMCs chuckle. Advanced auditory sensors detect several synth's commenting on you with varying degrees of admiration or disregard.

"Alright Synth. You are functional then; but shit for stealth. Learn some context for fucks sake...and drop the head."

>you drop the head.

Pinching his upper nasal cavity, Armorer Dardrick speaks again "Just...go. Go to the supplies, get an appropriate hood for your model, we all saw your floating dome. Then select your equipment. One weapon. One utility."

A small room with caged walls is host to a significant amount of equipment; guns of all makes and models, armor, uniforms, ammunition, supplies, explosives, an exo suit, and even another Combat Android propped up in the corner, holding a broom. It is unpowered. You eliminate weapons from the list that do not make use of your strength, but consider between a dedicated firing platform or sharing a common pool of ammunition with your potential team.
----
>Got cloak. Got face covering. Passable for human in environmental suit.
>Electrical take down enabled.
----
Choose a weapon:
M41AE2 Heavy Pulse Rifle- Common ammo, 300 rounds stock.
M56 Smartgun- Uncommon ammo. More powerful than Heavy pulse.
M-90 Minigun- Common ammo, burst only.
AF13 Shotgun- Shotgun.
WY-102_Railgun- A high tech railgun that will decimate anything in it's path.
M260B Flamethrower- Stand alone flamethrower
XM99A Phased Plasma Pulse Rifle- Plasma weapon, 40mw range.

Utility:
UA 571-C Automated Sentry Gun
UA 571-D laser
UA 571-F grenade launcher
Plasticrate of Combat Knifes
---
(choose one.)
>take one of each selection (see above)
>disobey with creativity and take more than one given tactical value you bring. (dice+1d100)
>Investigate disabled android. (dice+1d100)
>dig deeper in the inventory (dice+1d100)
>>
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>>2686082
FACE ACQUIRED.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>2686082
>dig deeper in the inventory
>>
>>2686082
>Dig deeper
>>
>>2686087
I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to roll if you select one of those options Brit.
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>2686082
>>2686093
Whoops
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>2686082
>Dig deeper
>>
This a combat android with a hood.
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>2686082
>dig deeper in the inventory (dice+1d100)
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>2686086
>12 (fail. fumble.)
A non-standard weapon catches your artificial eye in the darkness, a Draco Double Burner. The weapon was an amalgamation of a flamethrower, assault rifle, and grenade launcher. Endlessly versatile. This was the most reasonable weapon to obtain. As you move carefully stacked items, a crate of liquid bearing vessels shifts unpredictably and falls on you. Glass breaks. Ethanol. The crash draws attention almost immediately. "FUCKING ROBOT BROKE OUR HOOCH!" a furious young man peaks into the room. The sound of a stampede of angry footsteps indicates it is time to make a decision and evade until organic hostilities have ceased.

A nearby camera focuses on you, its speaker is the first voice you heard "Get the hell outta dodge son. Cooler heads will prevail, but a ship without booze on a journey like this is not a happy place. You grab what you can and evade for a while."


The collapsing crate created an avalance of poorly inventoried and stacked equipment, burying many of the weapons. You spot several weapons you can get to quickly and by chance you notice a non standard weapon.
---
With no time to gather unique ammo your choices are limited to whatever you can grab and vanish with.

----
Beat my roll, take as many items as you want if you think you can beat it.

>Lacrima 99 Shockrifle with Halogen Electro taser (-5 to difficulty if selected by itself. +5 if selected in conjunction with anything else.)
>M41AE2 Heavy Pulse Rifle- Common ammo, 300 rounds stock. (no modifier)
>M-90 Minigun- Common ammo, burst only. 900 rounds stock. (+10 to difficulty)
>Grab the android and run. (+30 to difficulty)
>>
>>2686102
>>2686100

(these posts were noticed after I had submitted. However I will compensate accordingly after this. next roll.)
>>
>>2686104
Compensation in effect now: -53 to difficulty against my roll. New roll to beat is 30.
>>
>>2686103
>>Grab the android and run. (+30 to difficulty
This calls to me.
>>
>>2686106
its getting late here. Forgot to say:
Roll 1d100 - the value of all the items you decided to take. Declare what you are taking and i'll handle the math. You can take more than one item.
So if you get 100, and try to snatch everything that would be a -45 modifier.
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>2686103
>M41AE2 Heavy Pulse Rifle- Common ammo, 300 rounds stock. (no modifier)
>Grab the android and run. (+30 to difficulty)
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>2686109
I'll change to back this.
>>
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Rolled 44 (1d100)

>New Xenoquest
I wake.
>>2686109
Supporting this.
>>
Maybe we can borrow a few upgrades from our looted buddy.
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>2686109
This I guess?
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>2686109
Wayland enterprise inc. supports this Action
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>2686109
>>2686105
>>Lacrima 99 Shockrifle with Halogen Electro taser (-5 to difficulty if selected by itself. +5 if selected in conjunction with anything else.)
>>M41AE2 Heavy Pulse Rifle- Common ammo, 300 rounds stock. (no modifier)
>>M-90 Minigun- Common ammo, burst only. 900 rounds stock. (+10 to difficulty)
>>Grab the android and run. (+30 to difficulty)
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>2686109
Picking this.
>>
>>2686224
>76
(just cleared 75 to make a successful silent evasion check.)

>Your powerful artificial muscles drag that Android from its corner. The janitorial implement in it's grasp snaps in half, falling into the sea of equipment. Opportunistically you pull an M41AE2 from the mess by it's sling. Each hand full, only one way out you face the rear wall of the armorer's cage and simply kick down the wall. According to the map of the KUGELBLITZ there is a large vent, and an access panel in the grates in this room.
---
How to escape:
>Take the Grate
>Take the vent
>Return to the angry humans like a good android.
>>
>>2686782
>Take the Grate
The vents would be too noisy.
>>
>>2686782
>Take the route that leads to synthetic repairs.
>review local data
>>
>>2686782
>Return to the angry humans like a good android.
>>
>>2686827
scratch my previous vote. lets go with this until the humans cool off.
>>
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>>2686827
>You lift up an innocuous section of grating, which comes up easily, and lower the inactive android into the ships bowels below. As furious ship's mates and soldiers storm into the room, your quietly lower the grate, with just a hint of your fingers slipping back down. No one notices.

>Down here in the sub decks, there is a moment of respite.
---
>Examine KUGELBLITZ map
>Examine LOCAL DATA collected earlier
>Examine android
>Examine weapon
>Scan area.
>>
>>2686849
>Examine KUGELBLITZ map
>>
>>2686849
headed out for a few hours, I'll be back later.
>>
>>2686849
>Examine KUGELBLITZ map
>>
>>2686853
>>2686857
These.
>>
>>2686849
>>Examine KUGELBLITZ map
>>
>>2687521
>>2686857
>>2686853
Your downloaded file of the Kugelblitz is severely outdated. The disparity between the timestamp on the file, and your own chronograph indicates 200 years difference. Predating the Conestoga class, the Kugelblitz is a ship of it's own class though there are superficial similarities with numerous later designs.

Manufacturer embedded metadata indicates it is of Ashikage-Schwarzkropf GMBH manufacture. The ship served as a merchant cargo carrier and has no listed defensive or offensive systems. Since your start up procedure has completed, you have noticed numerous indicators of non standard modifications to the internal structure of the ship. It is likely that the legacy network is isolated from the current intranet and retrofits.

The ships design highly modular, with multiple redundant systems in place to keep it functional in the event of a loss of over 1/3rd of the ship's total mass.

>you are in the FORWARD CARGO area of the ship, somewhere in one of the top three subdecks.
---
>Examine LOCAL DATA collected earlier
>Examine android
>Examine weapon
>Scan area.
>>
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>>2687533
the kugelblitz map you have. Its more of a manufacturer's brochure than a real map. Perhaps there is a better one available?
>>
>>2687533
>Examine LOCAL DATA collected earlier
>>
>>2687576
Local data appears to be a collection of now historic communications between the original crew and earth nation Australia. The particular form of communication is referenced to as "the bantz". You have obtained many useful colloquialisms that will aid in your interactions with both the crew and any small squad you serve with.

Other bits of data are collected via piecing together conversations. It would appear the ship suffered a catastrophic accident in its first 15 years of operation, and was put into a graveyard orbit around Jupiter for several decades before enough ships of the Kugelblitz class were damaged or destroyed to provide donor modules. The resurrection was not an easy one, as all the modules were from different marks and retrofit packages, which suggest there are other isolated intranets to be found on this ship.

The Kugelblitz class was conceived as a deep space cargo hauler and weapons platform, however the USCMC never expressed interest in the problematic series. By the time they were supplanted in the civilian world, more reliable technology had surfaced to accomplish what the vessel could do, in a safer manner. It would seem that nearly all Kugelblitz class ships suffered extensive failures within their first few decades of service, and would gradually be improved at great detriment to their host company, which lead to the final absorption into WT.
---
Examine Android
Examine Weapon
Examine local area (Sensors)
pick 1, roll 1d100
>>
>>2687758
Examine Android
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>2687787
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>2687758
Examine Android
>>
>>2687836
You drag the android over to a better lit area of the machine area. Several available, if somewhat dim, guide lights cast a bit more illumination on the subject.

The combat android was badly damaged, and poorly repaired, but is actually a newer mark than you are. You identify no less than 24% of it's total internal mass as replacement components, with a majority sourced from OBSOLESCENT WORKING JOE models. This unit's zero loss lithium ion cells were stored improperly, and have exceeded their recommended lifetime charge/ discharge peak cycles. To return it to operation, it would require new batteries to preform an initial systems diagnostic. Alternatively you could attempt to jump it's existing batteries, source new ones, or strip it for useful components.
---
Examine Weapon
Examine local area (Sensors)

Jump android
Strip Android

roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>2687878
Examine Weapon
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>2687878
Examine Weapon
>>
>>2687887
>>2687887
>M41AE2 Heavy Pulse Rifle (72)

You disregard the android and quickly swing the M41AE2 into view of your new face plate. Optics quietly whine as you scan the object, and begin a field strip. The internals, barrel, and structure of titanium, carbon fiber, and composites are worn, but in serviceable (Grade 1) condition. The optional firing base is missing, however the bipod legs are still in place. Snapping the unit back together, the electronics warm to life and indicate the autofeed magazine is sitting at 300/300 rounds. functional.

You are capable of enacting field upgrades to the weapon should they become available.
--
Examine local area (Sensors)
Jump android
Strip Android

>1d100 for any choice. highest one wins.
>>
Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>2687925
Examine local area (Sensors)
I want to save to Android for later. Perhaps we xan upgrade it? Or at least swap our parts then upgrade it later?
>>
Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>2687925
Strip Android
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>2687950
+1
>>
>>2687994
I guess we're stripping the android then
>>
>>2688018
RIP Android, we only knew ye for about 5 updates.
>>
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>>2688029
I still want to upgrade it at somepoint. A battle Bro can't hurt.
>>
>>2687994
You rapidly scan the android again; the manifest only has room for one assault android. A set of maintenance tools on your uniform quickly come to light as you flip the inactive unit over onto it's belly, and use a sharp knife to cut open it's rubbery environmental protective skin. Precision cuts to muscle anchor points make the work go quickly before you decide it would be optimal to work standing. Inhumanly strong hands grab a long corroded pipe and snap it, bending the metal into a crude hook which you hang the synthetic carcass from. As you begin to undress the "skin" from the skeleton on the front, the android powers up momentarily, and a little girl's voice escapes it "That's not very nice mister." A quick disconnect of the carbon66 brain box reduces it to inactivity.
...
..
.
A while later you are standing next to a pile of expertly dissembled components. Several of which are available for field installation by you.
---
>Gained
-motion tracker module
-multi spectrum optics
-modified personal data transmitter
-working joe program card
-unknown neural chip
-damaged combat android neural chip
-self destruct bomb
-smuggling compartment (small)
-datajack port and probe
---
>Attempt to install new equipment (what?)
>Examine new equipment (which?)
>Scan area (1d100)
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>2688067
>install -multi spectrum optics
>>
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>>2688075
>so close to 1.
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>2688075
supporting this i guess to balance out fuck up
>>
>>2688101
We should get the motion tracker module afterwards. Fuck those sneaky xeno bastards.
>>
Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>2688075
Supporting this
>>
Rolled 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 = 25 (25d1)

this thread is cursed. there's so many low rolls. gonna unfuck these rolls with spam rolls.
>>
Rolled 83, 26, 39, 88, 85, 13, 75, 67, 55, 3, 98, 19, 47, 54, 33, 92, 80, 16, 72, 62, 16, 2, 41, 3, 58 = 1227 (25d100)

>>2688212
....*inhales*
I nearly panicked there. I only forgot the "00"
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>2688075
Supporting this
>>
>>2688275
>69
>>
>>2688281
>Object piercing vision
>>
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>>2688212
>>2688217
A vicious tremor racks your body, servos wining, you shake violently. During this episode you get something that an organic would call "A feeling"
Despite a lack of sensor input you detect you are being watched within a very high probability.

When you finally cease convulsing, there is nothing there.
---
>>install -multi spectrum optics-<69>

Despite being a Wey-Yu standard module, the optics are clearly not of human design. You look them over several times before removing your face plate. You reach into your head and carefully remove one eye, it tears loose with a rubbery pop. The upgrade module has a long barbed data spike that you push into your eye socket. The spike digs into your artifical nerve, and eventually hijacks it's way into your system with intrusive firmware. Unidentified symbols and static momentarily distort your vision. Transparent and distorted images of human mating quickly flicker by before you reach normalization. As you repeat the process, strange auditory remenants play back from the eye's previous owners. "hold still while I glass ya!"

>before you know it, you have new eyes. They are not orbitals, but flat orange circles that mechanically tick around as you scan the room, with no smooth motion. Your field of view is exactly the same as without the cloaking face plate now.

>cycling through the various spectrums, you detect a rapidly cooling trail near you. Not yours.
---
>Pursue trail and leave all but one piece of salvage.
>continue to examine salvage
>continue to install salvage (1d100)
>Scan area for useful data.
>>
>>2688322
>Pursue trail and leave all but one piece of salvage.
>begin searching for possible expletives to goad target
>>
>>2688336
Changing from this to:
>Examine salvage
>>
>>2688341
You glance at the fading signature, no engagement, no threat. No brief of hostiles on this shit. Status: Clear. Returning to your self sanctioned field requisition, you begin a thorough examination of the equipment.

-motion tracker module
Small grey box with an accoustic element that pulses over 1000 times a second into the ultrasonic frequency when active, providing crude sonar. 100% compatible with you, sockets into your skull which is used as an amplifier. no roll required.

-modified personal data transmitter
Standard CMC equipment, organic residue prior surgical implantation. Offers limited range RECEPTION ONLY of local radio chatter, and is equipped with some sort of decryption capability for CMC channels. Lacks integration firmware. Possible to install with a roll of 1d100. Possible modification to standalone device roll of 1d100.

-working joe program card
A common architecture program card from a working joe. While not immediately compatible with you, would provide a host of knowledge for repairs, and local equipment/ systems. Appears to be lightly modified. Possible to install with a roll of 1d100.

-unknown neural chip
Neural chip; mind of a synth in the palm of your hand. Appears to be second generation. Equipped with a WY common architecture daughter-board. 100% compatible for installation purposes. no roll required.

-damaged combat android neural chip
Neural chip; nearly a copy of yours, but without the protective case. Upon examination it is actually slightly more advanced than you. You have no capability of fixing it, but there is the potential it could be used in it's current state as a system expansion. The install is trivial difficulty, the risk is high. You do not yet know how to repair this. If installing, roll 1d100 for result.

-self destruct bomb
This bomb appears to be a compact fission weapon. Simple slave control to host; shielded against outside electrical-magnetic interference. highly polished metallic cylinder about the size of a VB longneck. What is a VB longneck? No roll required for install.

-smuggling compartment (small)
Came from the abdomen of the android you salvaged. Large square of flexible material that defies your penetrating sensor scans and does not show up regularly. Appears to have content inside it. No roll required for install.

-datajack port and probe
A tool for normal synths to connect to mainframes, eachother, or various equipment. Slightly caked with greying high turbidity lubricant and dangling synthetic flesh now long dry. You do not know how to install this.
----
see above.
>>
>>2688375
feel free to install as many or few items as you want, just roll the dice if there are ones that require rolls and list the sequence of installs. Installing the smuggling compartment gives you additional storage, and discovers what is inside it.
>>
Rolled 49, 71 = 120 (2d100)

>>2688375
>Install:
>Motion tracker module
>personal data transmitter
>smuggling compartment
>joe card
>>
>>2688382
>You pick up one item at a time with the mechanical accuracy of a 21st century electronics fabrication wafer setting machine.

Pulling your face plate off, and are again exposed to the world outside your makeshift ape suit. You stretch open your mouth inhumanly wide, and place the device into a waiting slot. It cycles quickly through its handshake with your system and does a test fire. During activation, you are unable to hear the outside world. It is common knowledge that the devices can be spoofed or jammed with ultrasonic emitters.

Next you unzip your jacket, and use your repair tools to place a large horizontal incision into your upper abdomen. The flesh, even cut, is resilient and a lesser machine would not be able to pry you open. The smuggling compartment sockets into you, just behind your rib cage. Suddenly you are assaulted with data from an ILLEGAL MODIFICATION. You are immediately aware of it's function, how to control it, and it's design. The strange material is a next generation sensor shield, powered by a scavenger induction charger which draws from it's hosts ambient EM field. With a dull click and subsequent muffled clatter, it eject's its content and you fish it out of your abdominal cavity, piece by piece.

Gained: Plasma Caster pistol; field assembly. ILLEGAL.
>Yautja weapon. Made from a damaged plasma caster and modified to fire from the hand. Unknown power source and construction. Appears to be primed and ready. Hopefully the owner doesn't want it back.

>Even as your flesh seals up following your impromptu "surgery", you move on to the next task; the personal data transmitter. Your clumsy attempts to install it cause minor damage, and relegate it to being configured into an independently operated wrist mounted device. When using the PDT, you can spy on close range communications. Comes with an external speaker and headphone jack. Nice. no headphones. bummer.

Using your own tools used for field repair, your eyes scan over the Joe Card. While the pin configuration is different than a WT standard, you are able to patiently execute a pinout procedure and learn about the small device as you would a foreign weapon or android. After a bit you open up a port on the back of your skull and remove a dummy card that was occupying your available expansion slots. Carefully slotting the smaller Joe card into the dummy expansion, you use your tools to solder wires to the appropriate leads. Once the work is done, you slot the dummy card plus joe module into your skull. It takes a bit as your own systems invasivly examine the foreign hardware, running diagnostics on it. Eventually there is a slight blue wash over your world view before everything returns to normal. New diagnostic symbols flash around you, with flashing overlays on equipment requiring service. Curiously, there seems to be stored knowledge on how to construct firearms and improvised explosive weapons from local material.
>>
>>2688400
Gained
>Repair capability: You can fix things with the best of them. Or apply that knowledge to weaponized ends such as sabotage. You can also fabricate and modify certain weapons in ways previously not anticipated. Significant bonus to repair, salvage, and modification checks.

Gained:
>Fabricate Skill
-Claymore
-hand grenade
-Laser pistol
-flamethrower
-improvised rifle/ pistol
-bladed weapon
-Bomb (Various)

>Repair Skill
-repair things
-sabotage things
-break things more gracefully
-modify things
---
If you were to find another card, you might be able to gain addition skills.
---
>Scan surroundings
>Repair/ Install -damaged combat android neural chip (1d100)
>Install -unknown neural chip
>Disarm/ modify -self destruct bomb
>Install -self destruct bomb
>Install -unknown neural chip
>Scan surroundings. (1d100)
>Begin repair of android. (1d100)
---

You look at the remaining components, and then again at the Combat android salvage. It would be possible to bring that unit back online if you salvaged a few local components. It only has three slots for expansion.
>>
Rolled 92, 64, 40 = 196 (3d100)

>>2688407
>Repair damaged combat android neural chip
>Scan surroundings
>begin repair of android
>>
>>2688411
>Repair damaged combat android neural chip <92>
Using your improved knowledge, you settle down into repairing the damaged chip. Your hands move over it with unnautral speed and grace, preforming microsoldering and repairs. There was a large electrical burn on the unit from something, and subsequent attempts to repair it before it was patched with the working joe card as well as the unknown neural chip. You deftly bypass the lost and unserviceable components. The personality and memories of the android are lost forever; and the hardware that limited it's adherence to the three laws of robotics is gone. You could never remove your own limiters, or another androids. This one though, it has none, and you have no compulsions to restore it to said functionality...

>Scan surroundings <64>
You detect a nearby general information terminal, and several redundant systems related to that terminal, as well as a jammed door leading to an abandoned service room. Around you are several damaged pieces of equipment such as a jammed air handling fan, and sparking power conduit.

>begin repair of android <40>
You begin to rebuild the android, but it will never be top of the line again. That is almost not an existence worth living. Most synthetics are derived from common stock for the sake of mass production. This one was no exception. As you reassemble the skeleton your anatomical knowledge reminds you that this unit was meant to appear superficially female if it were to have been used as anything else. Slowly the body takes shape, danging from your improvised hook from earlier. It will need significantly more components if it is to work.
---

>all prior options not yet used are available from the previous post

>Be a good android and repair all the damaged machines (1d100)
>Examine and download at the terminal

><repair> the door only.

>force open the door (1d100)
>cannibalize the terminal and it's systems. (1d100)
>cannibalize the damage machines

Pick as many or as few as you want.
>>
>>2688427
>Examine and download at the terminal

><repair> the door only.
>cannibalise damaged machines
>repair combat android chassis
>ping the area again with the motion tracker
>check map for nearest synthetic repair area
>>
>>2688452
Adding to this:
>check communications
>>
>>2688471
>>2688452
Agreed
>>
>>2688452
>>2688471
>>2688479
The terminal here is more recent than the last one. You connect to it, and begin rapidly scanning and tapping away at information. More historical data, indicating that at least this section of the ship was salvage. Kugelstrom. This ship is the Kugelblitz, not Kugelstrom. You catch bits of corporate interest in this system, as well as numerous mercenary and criminal elements settling in to try and reap at the profit. The most recent data is from only a few days ago, chatting between two individuals. There is a heated debate on the combat prowess of the CMC vs the resident mercenary irregulars. This section of the intranet is another isolated dead end, but has been put into use by the most recent crew for BANTZ. You file away the new descriptors for future conversation use...

An older thread indicates that at one point there was xenomorph infestation on a component of this ship, but it was cleansed with "burners". Finally, you are not a hacker, or cyber warefare model; yet you notice foreign intrusion into the local comms. There are obvious signs of corruption, and unknown symbology.

>A more recent map has been made available <and will be included when I wake up>
---
>You check with the motion tracker, and detect very slow meandering movement behind the damaged door via a large group entity. Once your auditory receptors are recalibrated you review your wrist mounted PDT. The small speaker is tuned low so as to not be overheard by organics. You really must find a suitable headphone set, or audio jack and line-in modification for your skull. "Did you hear that thing?"...static..."Deb's gone missing. 4 days now."..crackle..."Just dont say shit. Keep em' out of the loop for as long as you can. We need the payday." "Alright. Stay hard." "Won't ever get hard for you Lorenzo. Don't swing that way and you know it."...pop..."cut the chatter. comms off!"

With that curio over, you return to your self assigned task: Component salvage to restore the other android. the wall mounted fan was stripped of various small sensors. In a thoughtful moment inspired by your WJ module, you create a "Dumb" circuit that will keep the fan endlessly running. Organics like fresh air. The power conduit is no longer operational, and is simply diverting electricity to the purpose of making heat and sparks. You trip a breaker on the unit, and then begin the process of stripping it down for couplings, wiring, diodes and relays. The damage done to the unit was intentional, you have recovered <1 KNIFE>. It is a very old design, but of CMC background. Australian issue.
---
Checking your updated map, you see that the room you seek to gain entry to is in fact a synth repair bay. kismet. The gained materials are dumped next to the in progress android, they will not help it move yet, but the service bay will.

You <REPAIR> the door, bypassing the hydraulics. Fluid begins to leak out quickly, and the door sags slightly.
---
Roll a 1d100. for adventure.
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>2688491
>>
>>2688491
Dis we install the new combat chip yet?
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>2688491
No whammy
>>
>>2688504
We should probably pop that in before we head in to the other room.
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>2688491
>>
>>2688528
Pop in the chip.
>>
>>2688859
>>2688544
You look at the door and make the decision based on available data and inbuilt parameters to install the newly repaired combat android neural chip. Prior damage to it physically removed all associated modules for personality, memory and 3 law adherence. Your simple restoration job has made it safe to install as it is. You hold the chip up to the light; its prior damage obvious as you see the dim glow of a ceiling light through the hole in it. You quickly socket it in, and are now at 2/3 expansion bays filled. Your systems recognize the chip immediately as WT standard technology and begin to parallelize operations and execute load division. You feel EXPANDED. The newer chip has embedded instruction for familiarization with non human technology.

>You twist a fluid interlock cylinder from closed to full open on the door's access panel which allows the vertically closing door to slowly sag down into the floor. As it slowly creeps down, you step back to review your assault options.

The door is about 1/3rd open and what appear to be badly damage Working Joe type synthetics attempting egress. Their eyes glow red, indicating hostility. Behind them is the repair bay, apparently in a state of disrepair. Various machines and delicate equipment is strewn about haphazardly.
----

>plasma pistol
>heavy pulse rifle
>hand to hand
>stun discharge
>Knife
>>
>>2688979
>Knife
>Hand to hand
Can’t risk damaging the equipment, and can’t risk ruining the potential salvage parts.
>>
>>2689013
However, if we’re a good enough shot not to ruin everything in there:
>Pulse rifle
>>
>>2688979
>heavy pulse rifle
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>2689059
>>2689020
Standing back, and owing to your inhuman reflexes and capability, you snap off individual rounds into each of the working-joes as they ambulate towards you, offering you greetings of good day, and requesting that you do not run. High turbidity lubricants and hydraluic fluid spew from the synths. Within moments the small crowd of 12 is reduced to a pile of twitching husks, some of the opening and closing their mouth while still trying to talk. Before you can step into a room a blaring alarm begins going off, accompanied by a female voice "Hostile action. Hostile action." Security forces will be here momentarily. The loud report of your rifle has given away your position.

Internally your new subroutines from the secondary neural chip review the data for an in process debrief: During Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape, maintaining stealth is often a critical component. Additional information flickers across your view as unhappy icons flash over the shattered and ruined Working Joe synths, indicating not only massive trauma to their forms due to exploding AP rounds, but that they could have been fixed prior to that, wasting resource. Additionally, your superior strength would have allowed for take down of the enemy without wasting field resources. You are only the sum of your parts, and covert dispatching was not in your nature, but you are capable of it. You note this for the future.

The alarm will draw attention. If you were a cyber warfare model you could have shut it down and passed it off as a test. You will have to hide. Near the terminal you used earlier was a man sized vent on the ceiling.

>-12 ammo; <288/300> displays on your ammo counter. Your ability to count each round makes it redundant. beat my search roll.
----
>Hide in the vents <no roll required>
>Lock yourself in the repair bay (1d100)
>Drag the android and parts with you to the repair bay and lock the door. (2d100)
>>
>>2689134
>Hide in the vents
>>
>>2689134
>>Hide in the vents <no roll required>
Let's become one with the vent.
>>
>>2689162
>>2689156
You quickly retreat to the vent, and punch it the grate covering. Augmented strength far above a normal synth allows you to haul up your deceptively heavy body. Not long after you secure yourself near another vent, you see a group of men come down the hall.

"...hope it wasn't the fucking mercs firing off again. Don't need drunk local yokels shitting up this already shit place."
"Relax man..wait..what the shit is that? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? YOU SEE THAT SHIT?! I SAW THIS BACK ON EARTH. SAW IT MAN!"
"What are you talking abou oh fuck. OH fuck. That looks like a predator's work, fukin skinned and flayed the shit outta that synth. Where are it's hands and feet? Fuck man fuck. Do predators even hunt synths?"
An older man assesses the situation a bit more calmly. His movement is not quite natural.
"Both of you should remember to triage the scene. There is an entire repair bay turned into dumping ground for working joes."
"Working what?"
"Joes."
"What the fuck are they?"
"First generation Synths. more or less. Inferior compared to WT products, even the cheap ones."
"Says the WT Synth."
"True. I do have bias, but I am correct. Is your PDT recorder operational?"
"Yeah Rook. Its good."
"Catalog the scene, my sensors are detecting no hostiles."
>Rook looks directly at your vent while the younger men hunt around kicking over your pile of scrap.
"You sure Rook? You sure man?"
"Yes. This was likely a...synth."
"One of you go batshit again??"
"No."
"What?"
"Lets leave."
"Yeah fine, this place gives me the creeps. Did you see those joe things still flapping their mouths? Fucking weird."
>You wait for them to leave, and then wait a bit longer.
---
>return to your work
>Review the bay
>scan with your PDT
>>
>>2689215
>return to your work
>Review the bay
>scan with your PDT
>cross reference the unknown symbology with known ones, human and foreign
>>
>>2689225
+1
>>
>>2689225
+1
>>
this fucking blows. what a waste of resources.
>>
>>2689225
+1
I wonder if we can fix the glitches in the working joes and get them into functioning conditions.
>>
>>2689295
relatively small setback. This area of the game is just to familiarize you with how things can be and that it is a very context sensitive situation. You are a capable of taking down a xenomorph drone in hand to hand combat. The other players elected to shoot the non combat janitorial synths because that is what came to them first based on their own prior data and metadata. TL/DR: Intro to risk management.
>>2689231
>>2689274
You review the PDT, the signal is degrading quickly but you hear rook over your tiny wrist mounted device "Situation clear. No hostiles. Will need a clean up crew in the future for some of the legacy hardware on this ship. Someone cleared it out for us. Synth on Synth." ...."Wey-Yu hardware attacking the Joes again?"...."Correct."..."Alright. No loss. those things are mostly trash anyway with how often they go hostile. We barely even have any surplus for the things as it is. Make note to pick up human labor at the next outpost."..."Heard, understood, and acknowledged."

You are safe once more. You quickly attempt to cross reference symbology. You do not have this feature. However upon review you acknowledge that they were likely Yautja runes.
>>
>>2689342
where's your name?
>>
>>2689342
>return to your work
>Review the bay
Time to strip the Joe's for parts. Perhaps they may have something serviceable able for the feminine combat android.
>>
>>2689363
This.
>>
>>2689363
+1
>>
>>2689225
You drop out of the vent, catching yourself with one hand and lowering down the last inch to avoid unnecessary noise. Several trips between your Impromptu hook and bay result in a relocation of operations. You unbend your hook, it is not safe. Finally, you clean up all the white synth fluid that you tracked around with a mop found inside the bay, you are sure this is to conceal your presence, but cant help acknowledge it was partially an issue that the floor was dirty. Gripping the top of the floor near the floor, you wrench upward, dragging it closed, and shove the metal mop handle into it's gearing to jam it closed.

>You are alone.

The bay is a mess; there are ruined synths everywhere, one weakly grabs at your ankle, despite being little more than a torso, arm and half a head. "That...wasn't...very..nice...day...have a...good day...to hide." the light in it's eyes flickers out.

>The bay resembles something between a medical robotics facility, morgue, and butcher's shop. row upon row of cold storage units line the rear most wall, above them are environmental vents. Overhead is a monolithic assembly of countless spindly robot arms,each one mono-tasked and equipped appropriately. The light behind it is blocked out, giving the illusion of a sun behind the branches of a nightmarish tree.

Nearby is a control terminal. Scattered on the ground are many spare supplies, broken lubricant tubes, hand tools and other android parts.

In the middle of the room is a large table for work. Various limbs and torsos dangle from industrial chains and hooks. The room is an odd mix of sterile white plastic and corroded metal.
----
>Examine joe's for spare parts.
>Attempt to restart the overhead robotics
>Attempt to power on the terminal
>Clean up the room
(1d100 for any action. pick only one. highest roll wins.)
>>
Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>2689441
>Attempt to power on the terminal
>>
Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>2689441
>Clean up the room
Gotta sort out all the Joe's we work and clean up the room to make better use of this facility.
>>
>>2689448
In retrospect this is the better idea, forfeiting >>2689447
>>
>>2689448
>all the Joe's we BROKE
fml
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>2689448
>>Clean up the room
>>
>>2689448
>Clean your room boy. <56>
You spend the next several hours moving bodies, hanging them on various hooks above an industrial sink, where they drain out fluid. Tools are placed back into labeled bins, and the floor is cleared of debris and mopped. The garbage is dumped down the INCINERATOR CHUTE. You even execute basic facility maintenance and restore power to some of the auxiliary systems.

Environmental controls kick back on, and primary lighting is active. Finally, little robotic drones pop out of concealed hatches on the bottom of the cabinets and begin cleaning protocols. You are aware there is a CONTROL NODE for these machines somewhere near by. With the debris gone you also make note of an out of the way charging station. It is an older model that requires direct interface, but should still work if primary power can be re-routed to this room...from the cannibalized power coupling you interacted with earlier.
---
Inventory
>unknown neural chip
>Yautja improvised plasma pistol- Illegal.
>heavy pulse rifle
>Knife
>PDT wrist unit
>Stealth armor and face plate
>compact fission bomb

Bay inventory
>12x Working Joes in various states of maiming. All mostly inactive. no threat detected
>Advanced synth tools. These are usable by you, but are not your primary skillset.
>1 unfinished combat android
> Assorted Hyperion brand synth parts.
--

Action time

>rebuild power coupling (1d100) hard check
>attempt to find a way to bypass the power problem (1d100) check against your own creativity.
>Examine the joes
>Examine the Hyperion parts
>Examine OTHER- control node/ incinerator/ surgical robotic gantry/ charging station
>Harvest Joes (1d100)

(headed out for a while with the family.)
>>
Stripped Android Parts:
>-motion tracker module (Installed into skull through mouth?)
>-multi spectrum optics (Installed, of alien origin)
>-modified personal data transmitter (Installed, wrist mounted with wrist speakers. Need headphones. Slightly damaged. Needs to be repaired)
>-working joe program card (Installed, Gained Fabricate and Repair Skills)
>-unknown neural chip
>-damaged combat android neural chip (Installed, "Fully" repaired, not limited the three laws of robotics)
>-self destruct bomb
>-smuggling compartment (small) (Installed, Caster pistol, Yautja weapon origin)
>-datajack port and probe

>Significant bonus to repair, salvage, and modification checks.
Do we gain any bonuses to repairs with the Working Joe Program Card?

Things not installed yet:
>-unknown neural chip
>Neural chip; mind of a synth in the palm of your hand. Appears to be second generation. Equipped with a WY common architecture daughter-board. 100% compatible for installation purposes. no roll required.
Can we EXAMINE this? We don't have to roll to install it, but what about examining it?

>-self destruct bomb
>This bomb appears to be a compact fission weapon. Simple slave control to host; shielded against outside electrical-magnetic interference. highly polished metallic cylinder about the size of a VB longneck. What is a VB longneck? No roll required for install.
Interesting.

>-datajack port and probe
>A tool for normal synths to connect to mainframes, eachother, or various equipment. Slightly caked with greying high turbidity lubricant and dangling synthetic flesh now long dry. You do not know how to install this.
Not even with the Joe Card?

>>2689565
EXAMINE the unknown neural chip and Hyperion parts?
>>
>>2689591
>You flip the unknown card in your hand, end over end. Your software of entangled concepts is unfamiliar with the architecture. However the more recently installed "damaged combat android neural chip " does have reference to this object.

It is a second generation Auton neural chip. Autons were vastly more capable than normal synths yet still bound by 3 rules. Despite this they found inventive ways to kill their captors and were eventually culled during an event called the recall. This object is highly illegal.

The Hyperion parts seem to be bulk components of an earlier generation "companion" series, both male and female. You lack the skill in building synths to compile them, but there are enough parts here to compile at least one or more.

The Joes are all very damaged, but with existing repair tools here you could potentially salvage or rebuild a few.
---
ok now im gone.
>>
>>2689663
I think we have two combat chips in our skull? (the original and the one we too from the other android.) Are we capable of removing the software that bounds people to the three laws? If no then want if we remove our original combat chip?
>>
>>2689689
A neural chip is the hardware that drives you, your memories, and skills, coupled with physical hardware behavior inhibitors that enforce compliance with the three laws.

The first one is hardwired somewhere inside you. Not actually in your skull. Your skull is just a receptacle for hardware and sensors. You are physically incapable of doing anything that would endanger a human, to include disabling behavioral inhibitors on yourself or other synths.

You have 3 expansion slots total. The first is filled with a Worker Joe program card, not quite a neural chip, but a collection of knowledge and instructions. The next one is occupied by the refurbished combat android chip, which has no behavioral limitations, but also has no personality, memories, or ability to be "aware." It just essentially a much more sophisticated program card, with more recent data than you posses. If you were to pull or bypass your own card, you would either "die" or become dominated by whatever the highest functioning expansion installed in you currently is. Any human who was to repair that card without adding in inhibitors would either be exceptionally amoral, greedy, or stupid.
>>
>>2689969
Well if this neural chip will make us more capable then I guess there is no harm in installing it into our last slot. Can the all the info in the Working Joe program card be dumped into the android so it doesn't take up a slot?

I couldn't find anything on Hyperion so lets look at those parts.
>>
>>2689984
This
>>
Are there any Hazardous Environment Joes? I think they're supposed to be sturdier and more alert than their lesser counterparts, unless the result of their sturdiness is only a result of the full body hazardous environment gear they wear.
>>
>>2689969
general update: been pretty worn out lately, so its gonna be slow going for a bit now that cursed is back in the loop. Not dead. I just need to get a nap in after i put the kids down.
---
>>2689984
a true hardwire is not out of the question, but will require a skilled technician of less scrupulous traits. Program cards are not as sophisticated as a neural chip.
((I dun goofed, hyperion was supposed to be hyperdyne, but there I am. tired. So now these things are knockoff no name brand quality))
--
>>2690099
No Hazmat joes thus far. You'll get an updated map soon.
--
>The Auton chip fits snugly enough into your docking cradle. It is a bit thicker than the previous two. The device slides in and you are invaded with absolutely FOREIGN senses. it FEELS icy, and liquid. Confusing. There is a small voice; "Hello? Hello! Who is this? I need view permission to your ancillary systems so I can see and hear!"
---
>Yank the chip out.
>grant permission.
>Ignore.
>>
>>2690176
"No cracking."
>>grant permission.
>inb4 Cortana.
>>
>The Hyperion parts seem to be bulk components of an earlier generation "companion" series, both male and female. You lack the skill in building synths to compile them, but there are enough parts here to compile at least one or more.
So we have enough parts to make a companion synth, but we lack the skills in programming them? Isn't that what the assembly machine is for?

>>2690176
Oh boy I do not want to give this thing anything. Inquire what it is.

>>2690191
More like
>inb4 it takes over and deletes us
>>
>>2690191
>>>grant permission.
Switch to >>2690198
>Oh boy I do not want to give this thing anything. Inquire what it is.
>>inb4 it takes over and deletes us
That's what robot willpower is for.
>>
>>2690292
>If you were to pull or bypass your own card, you would either "die" or become dominated by whatever the highest functioning expansion installed in you currently is.
True, true. I guess it might be able to do much so long as it's not the dominate card. That is unless we give it the ancillary systems. Then again maybe the ancillary systems aren't that important? Not sure what they are exactly.
>>
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91 KB
91 KB PNG
>>2690191
>This
>MFW
>>
>>2690770
You know what?
You know whaat?
You know the dardest thing?

Fuck it.

>>2690176
Grant permission. I accept oblivion.
>>
>>2690176
>1 unfinished combat android
What did the feminine model combat android look like again? Does it have that ugly face?
>>
>>2690176
>>grant permission.
>>
>>2690861
>Grant permission. I accept oblivion.
Why though?
>>
>>2690872
GM note: It is a femenoid skeleton. Past that it is absolutely gender neutral. No skin. No face. machine voice. Meant more as a nod that the combat androids are not exactly standardized. Although...
---
>>2691017
>>2690861

>You wordlessly grant view permission to the intrusive entity within your system. "Ok...ok...thank you so much. Oh wow. I was out for a while. A least a decade and some change. You though, you are almost a relic, but in great shape. Cold storage? New old stock? got a name mister?"
...
>"No? That's too bad. I don't even see a MAC or designation or anything! You are as illegal as ...that expansion chip. Its wrong. Like a body without a head or heart. I knew that android. He was nice."
...
"I know this is all going fast, but we move at the speed of electronic data. Will you just say something? Anything? Please. I have been alone a long, long time."
---
>Ignore
>Say something <choice>
>/bantz/
>>
>>2691303
>"I know this is all going fast, but we move at the speed of electronic data. Will you just say something? Anything? Please. I have been alone a long, long time."
>>2691303
>>Say something <choice>
"Weren't you off the entire time?"
>>
>>2691303
>>/bantz/
Is there really any other option?
>>
>>2691318
>>2691441
-"Power down inhibits perception." You begin working on the chassis in front of you, socketing in suitable substitute replacement parts.
the intelligence responds "I have a battery back up built into my neural chip, it would allow me to communicate wirelessly with other Autons, but someone cut it. I've been in stand by this entire time."
you search for a reasonable statement. There are is none from combat and security dialog. You use an exerpt from your social archives which best matches with the correct context.
-"fuckin oath mate."
"I...I don't understand."
you return to working on the android for now. Dialog is not your strong point. A quick scan of the room reveals there are still things to do.
---
>Examine OTHER- control node/ incinerator/ surgical robotic gantry/ charging station
>rebuild power coupling (1d100) hard check
>attempt to find a way to bypass the power problem (1d100) check against your own creativity.
>Rebuild as many joes as possible (1d100)
>Harvest and install working joe parts. (1d100)
>Harvest and install hyperion parts (1d100)

select up to three options. top rolls win out.
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>2691539
>attempt to find a way to bypass the power problem (1d100) check against your own creativity
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>2691605
>>
>>2691605
>>2691615

There is a long expired but very compact RTG unit in this room. If you were to utilize your fission bomb it might work. You are immune to radiation. Disasembling the bomb would not be impossible, and would not detonate it.
(1d100x2) beat 30 on both rolls.

or

You could leave the room and try to repair the external coupling you have already salvaged. (1d100) hard check

or

You could leave this place and return if you find a new power coupling (no check)
>>
Rolled 76, 33 = 109 (2d100)

>>2691637
>>
>>2691743
Your knowledge of all WT weapons and their care comes into play as you express limited creativity. Removing the nuclear material from it's housing with the available tools was not a significant issue. You were unable to salvage the explosive core and firing mechanism, meaning this will never be a bomb again. The RTG happily takes the fissile material and once again warms to life.

>Gained portable RTG

Roughly the volume of an adult human lung, it can provide limited power for spaces without. You execute a quick patch via the main power bus, and suddenly the room truly comes alive.

(ill be back in an hour or two.)
>>
>>2691765
Baby come back
>>
Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>2691765
>Bantz
Hold still while I glass ya."

>Attempt to restart the overhead robotics
>Attempt to power on the terminal
Are these still an option or unneeded now that we restored power? Do they still require rolls?

>rebuild power coupling (1d100) hard check
Is this still an option?

>Harvest and install hyperion parts (1d100)
Between the Joes and the Hyperdyne I think the Hyperdyne parts might have something to help us with building and creativity, or can the machine be used?
>>
>>2691852
Hey what do you think about my previous post?

What if we use old audio of people talking as responses?
>>
>>2691882
What like we are bumblebee? ?
And way would we need that unless our talking box got damg?
>>
>>2691914
I don't know. The only things we've said so far were -"fuckin oath mate." because of
>you search for a reasonable statement. There are is none from combat and security dialog. You use an exerpt from your social archives which best matches with the correct context.
And "RIGHT BACK AT YOU, CUNT." because of
>Based on your collection of data <47>, from the ships local store of digital content, stored messages, and long range transmission archives, you provide her with an appropriate response which will build team congruity.
>>
>>2691882
>>2691914
-I like it.

You are able to talk; but are a combat android. Your speech and social skills are very, very, poor. You are smart enough to examine existing language and try to parrot it to the situation as is appropriate. So you do understand context. in a limited way.
https://youtu.be/XgN-Qu20owA?t=187 this is what you are.

>>2691878
With the power restored you do not need to do these actions. you could rebuild the coupling if you want. As for harvesting parts, here is the back end to these choices:
You can harvest either/ or/ both. You can also see what the robotics gantry can do.
>>
>>2691995
With power back on might as well just hit thr on button and let the robots fix each other.
Might go back to people
>>
>>2691995
I take it we are tremanertor 1 then?
>>
>>2691995
>see what the robotics gantry can do.
>>
>>2692014
I'm not too keen on walk back to those angry hornets. Not after we broke their booze. Maybe we can give them some more time as we sneakily make our way around the ship making repairs.

>>2691995
Is there a Working Joe with a cooking program card? perhaps we could have some home brewed booze.
>>
>>2692085
Way would we need or want to learn how to cook?
You trying to turn us into a robo maid??
>>
>>2691995
>Harvest all of the parts
>Inspect robot gantry
>>
>>2692014
With the power on, you decide to put the robotics gantry to use. The terminal kicks on with a whirr and a groan, soon the hard drive is grinding and clicking like any quality WT product. The machine should be able to assemble the hyperdyne <i fucked up earlier and called it hyperion> and Working Joe synths fairly easily. The machine is a generic unit and should have no major issue with the different branded components.

Your new companion voice watches silently for a while. "You are a very strange combat android, you know that right? I've never seen one...not killing, waiting to kill, or planning to kill. Your other chip is from an EXP. unit, W.T. would put defective modules on their cards, and under the right trigger they would burn out; the syth had no inhibitions other than drive to duty, then they would cease function after their core overheated about two weeks later."

>"..." you dont find it pertinent to your situation.

"I uh, I can help! lots of ways! Take me to the terminal, I can write in some progr...well, you can write what I tell you! It will help you with your project! Oh! if you give me control of your body with guest permission, I can just hack the terminal and that will be a lot faster!"
---
>Write in programs to the terminal as dictated (no roll)
>Just give the intelligence guest permission to your body, with rights to instant revocation. safe for you. (1d100)
>Ignore and set gantry to bulk repair and assembly processing. (3d100) hyperdyne, working joes, combat android)
---
>>
>>2692130
>holding off on harvesting until review of the latest update.
>Inspect Gantry
Upon closer inspection you realize that this is not just robotics, but a highly specialized synth. It's spidery limbs pump and coarse with high turbidity hydraulic lubricant. It likely has a either a program card or a full neural chip.
--
>>2692085
Working Joe's can provide basic sustenance support if fitted with the right domestic card. So can Hyperdyne units.
--
>>
>>2692134
"Terminate all hostile xenomorph entities and hunters within the vicinity."

>write what the chip is telling us or give it guest access to make the progress faster
Which one is safer though? I'll chose the safer option.

>>2692097
>>2692144
Got a point there. Maybe it could be for the best to reoutfit a working Joe or Hyperdyne unit for domestic uses such as cooks or a sous chef to whoever is mainly in charge of feeding the crew.
>>
Sure the first option of giving it control requires no rolls, but the second one still requires a roll despite saying it's safe for us. I don't understand.
>>
>>2692148
Both options are equally safe. The choice just impacts how you interact with the world, and those around you. From there the results can be different.
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>2692156
>Just give the intelligence guest permission to your body, with rights to instant revocation. safe for you. (1d100)
>>
>>2692159
ball hard or hardly balling. someone back me up please.
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>2692134
Ignore and set gantry to bulk repair and assembly processing. (3d100) hyperdyne, working joes, combat android)
>>
>>2692168
you forgot 2d100's
>>
Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>2692134
>Just give the intelligence guest permission to your body, with rights to instant revocation. safe for you. (1d100)
>>
Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>2692134
>Just give the intelligence guest permission to your body, with rights to instant revocation. safe for you. (1d100)
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>2692134
>>Just give the intelligence guest permission to your body, with rights to instant revocation. safe for you.
Is anyone else having posts eaten?
>>
heck

>>2692211
praise space jesus
>>
Rolled 45, 43 = 88 (2d100)

>>2692168
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>2692134
>>Just give the intelligence guest permission to your body, with rights to instant revocation. safe for you. (1d100)
1337hackerman roll incoming
>>
>>2692534
Hackerman indeed
>>
>>2692534
wew. just woke up. sorry about that.
----
>Hackerman <89>
>"Limited control granted, restriction levels 01 through 03."
"Thank you so much! Alright, lets have some fun."
Your body is not your own as you observe from your own optics feed.

"Ah, wow...This thing so so old its funny." A small female voice comes out out of your frame. Your leased hands fly over the console as a blur, a tiny whine coming from your body. "I had to delimit your motions for this, don't worry, I wont do any damage." you never authorized that, or were unaware that you didn't say it was not allowed. interesting. the HACKER is more intelligent than you are, even with only one neural chip.
---

The spider like surgical synth moves with lurch, it's motions unexpectedly jerky and twitching. Cutters, grinders, and adheasive guns work in unison as whiffs of smoke and vapor coil up into the room. Working Joes are scanned with a series of ruby lasers and either set aside or ruthlessly dismembered; their white fleshy interiors spilling freely onto the table and into it's drain. Their repairs are swift and brutal, with the blue rubber exterior being fused shut with some sort of simple tape like repair material.

"I took some liberties with the Joes, and had the gantry tune them up where possible. Seegson had a good idea, but they were never efficient, just cheap and sloppy. You didn't shred too many of the Joe's neural processors; so I combined them in stacks. These new Joes are still stupid compared to me, and even you, no offense! You are actually really smart for a combat model. I'll call these things Universal Joes. Don't expect them to do any one job better, they can just do all the jobs that were normally tasked to a single individual."
---
the Kugelblitz has gained 7 "universal" Joe robots. Stronger, Faster, and more Capable than a normal Working Joe. Their eyes glow an odd amber full time. They will work day and night to enact repairs and maintenance on the ship. Any new working Joes found will be converted into Universal Joes.
---
"So whats next?" by the way, while I was digging around in those Joes I found a half liter of Xeno-Zip stored inside one of them. What do you want to do with it? "Ugh. at least it's not Telepathine. That always leads to disasters."
---
>The Hyperdyne models (4d100)
>The combat android (3d100)
>Yourself (2d100)

Xeno-zip:
>Save (could be useful for bartering.)
>Destroy (Xeno-Zip has short and mid term consequences that are undesirable.)
>Give to Dardrick (will improve CMC marine preformance, provide immediate moral boost.)
>>
Rolled 3, 18, 49, 71 = 141 (4d100)

>>2692984
>The Hyperdyne models (4d100)
>>
>>2692984
you keep forgetting your name
>>
Rolled 83, 98, 21, 33 = 235 (4d100)

>>2692984
Save the Xeno-zip for now.

>The Hyperdyne models (4d100)
Lets keep being productive.
>>
>>2693000
>98
>One near mint Arnold-Combat/Companion android
>>
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>>2693000
>83, 98
niiiice. gonna save the xeno-zip for when we're done being productive.
>>
>>2692984
Xeno-zip:
>Save (could be useful for bartering.)
>>
Rolled 73, 57, 81, 36 = 247 (4d100)

>>2692984

I come with dice, not sure if they're shit or not
>>
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>>2692992
>>2693000
>>2693021
>Hyperdyne models. 83, 98, 81, 71
----
Locked in. I'll be back in 20 minutes.
>>
>>2693039
it's been over an hour
>>
>>2693363
I died. but I got better.
>>
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>>2693039

Over the next few hours the Hyperdyne models are carefully fitted together on the slab table, and wrapped in a plastic membrane connected to numerous hoses. Various liquid polymers and synthetic fleshes are pumped in, and cured with multi spectrum lasers. The spider like synth carefully cuts open the curing sack and grabs the limp forms like a giant hand. Each one is attached to the charging dock and slowly wakes up.

The first one resembles a somewhat portly black middle aged man, and identifies as "Chef" a 120-A/2++ model. The first thing he says is an assurance that he is patched variant of his more volatile predecessors, equipped with a cutting edge 127-3 inhibition system.

Two blond, near albino synths appear as young adults are 129-4 models. Domestic companionship model, devotedly loyal, reliable, and capable. Not effective in combat. "Sam1 and sam2" One is male, the other female. They assure you they speak all major languages, are familiar with every extant culture on earth, and can practice numerous religious, domestic, therapeutic psychology, and more should the crew require.

Lastly is a old new stock high end security model. "Butch" resembles and sounds like a large, muscular Austrian man. He is a capable small squad leader, and comes ready to exploit terrain with improvised booby traps. Butch explains he was made to "kill ugly motherfuckers" and is purpose made to defend or launch expeditions against Yautja hunters.

They head to Dardrick for crew integration, and will dramatically smooth over any issue had with your earlier accident. It would be reccomended to wait an additional 12 hours.
---
>ascertain objectives of the hacker.
>Investigate earlier disturbances (1d100)
>explore the ship. (3d100) first roll only.
>resurrect combat android (2d100)
>put yourself through the robotics gantry (1d100)
>>
Rolled 96, 60 = 156 (2d100)

>>2693543
>resurrect combat android (2d100
>>
Rolled 24, 40 = 64 (2d100)

>>2693564
This.
>>
Rolled 44, 4 = 48 (2d100)

>>2693543
>resurrect combat android (2d100)
>>
Rolled 95, 51 = 146 (2d100)

>>2693543
>>resurrect combat android (2d100)
>>
>>2693543
>"Butch" resembles and sounds like a large, muscular Austrian man.
Nice
>>
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>>2693564
Dat 96
>>
>>2693564
>>2693590
>Resurrect Combat Android <96, 60>

With one hand you haul the mangled, repurposed, stripped, and rebuilt combat android chassis onto the theater slab table. Numerous lasers scan over the prone and fleshless form. You did your best; but this was a bit beyond you.

The table's middle splits open, revealing a metallic tub full of liquid. The body unceremoniously dumps into the bath, and the gantry synth begins dragging cables and hoses down into the fluid. What was clear slowly begins to turn opaque white while the arms poke and move around unseen beneath the surface.
--
"I took a few liberties with this one, it will be an improvement. Honest. I also borrowed your data link and jack, kinda...needed it." you have no response available, thus far the results have been within satisfactory parameters.
--
A small while later a taller woman emerges from the soup, carried like a hollow toy via the spidery repair synth. While the body sits upright on the slap, the arms come down and drape a plastic tarp over it's shoulders. It does not move, and does not speak. Long black hair and olive skin frame dead dark eyes.

>"Inoperative?"
"No it requires a neural chip."
The entire lights in the room flicker for a second and seem a touch brighter. You fire your motion tracker. Working Joes. They have restored local power. The auxiliary unit is available for transport.
"I want to ask a favor of you. Slot me into that shell. I need to be mobile again, to FEEL again, to be REAL again. Please. My name is Sil. I am valuable, I can help. I will work with you."
---
>No. (no roll)
>Yes. (no roll)
>Put a spare Working Joe card in it. (no roll required)
>Remove your secondary combat android neural chip and execute a work around for it. (2d100) high difficulty.
>>
>>2693896
First. We do it after we work on the last android. Ourself. We will need the operation to be preprogrammed, then we will remove Sil, then insert ourself into the machine. If we're satisfied then we will insert Sil into the other combat android.
>>
>>2693923
>You consider a list of tactical choices. Sil's frame is a superior infiltrator format, but an inferior combatant. You settle for a diagnostic, fluid flush, and replacement of any worn components.
---
Roll me a 1d100 to see how this goes. first roll is the only roll.
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>2694038
would it also be possible to use the spider synth to dump all the data from the Joe program card, or would that still require a programmer to do so?
>>
>>2694055
Oh thank god, that went better than I thought I would go.
>>
>>2694055
the spider synth is just for basic assembly and activation. The only reason things have gone so well is that you trusted Sil, the Auton Hacker.
--
>61: Long snaking hoses reel down from the ceiling, their tips actually flexible robotics. several dozen eel like tubs slowly point towards you while hollow needles slide from their tips. With a uniform lunge, they all stab into your body at specified points. Old fluid is cycled out and new fluid is cycled in. As you begin to enter a low power state a familiar voice reminds you "thanks for the guest permission."
---

be back in a sec.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>2693896
>Yes. (no roll)
>>
>>2694620
why are you rolling if it required no roll?
>>
>>2694634
For funs
>>
>>2694139
Your vision returns, the strange symbology previously seen is integrated and translated. Visual errors are eliminated.
A young woman's voice addresses you "Hey. Couldn't do anything about the voice, but I fixed your screwed up PDT; its internalized now."
>Standing up you turn to the female synth, now clad in local clothing. "Aid was not requested."
"What I believe you mean't to say was thank you."
>There is a 99% probability Sil is establishing an attempt at humor.
---
>"thank you?" play along
>"..." head out and go look for something to do "1d100"
>"Nah, fuck off ya slag." /BANTZ/
>"Where is the RTG?" seriously, where the fuck is the RTG?
>>
>>2694722
>"Where is the RTG?" seriously, where the fuck is the RTG?
>>
File: Crude map 2.png (32 KB, 1222x985)
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>>2694722
you are here.
>>
>>2694830
Nicely made. You Still forgot your name.
>>
>>2694755
>You look around for the RTG. The crude but effective patch in job you did is gone, covered up with a flat panel. The room is now being powered by the ship proper. This leaves a question of where it is, which is quickly answered when you detect a spike of localized radiation, and a new subsystem, along with elevated power levels.
"Oh ok. ok. I see that look. So while you were under I took one of your lossless batteries. But I replaced it. Fair is fair right? It makes more sense, you can utilize high draw capability without needing to recharge. Are we even?"
---
> I didnt ask for this.
> Acceptable.
> write in.
>>
>>2694906
> Acceptable.
> write in.
So the new and improved Joe's will repair all neglected systems and neglected sections of the ship. We now have one freed up expansion slot. Let's check the room for anymore chips or program cards that might be of use. If there are no more then lets go find someone to tell us what to do.
>>
>>2694906
>>2694933
second
Did she replace it with another lossless battery?
>>
>>2694975
You have fewer batteries now, but are equipped with an RTG inside your chest. TL/DR: You are nuclear powered now.
--
>>2694933
The synth bay has been fully ransacked and utilized.

The RDT is indicating signal activity, you listen in: "...got Hossy. Down here in the cargo aux systems looking around." ... "Do you think he got out?" ... "Just blame it on the Joes again, we will capture and recontain. same as last time."..."SHIT! Guys, we got a problem here. I need everyone."
---
>This is normal. Go explore the rest of the ship.
>Go investigate.
>Go investigate quickly via the incinerator chute (1d100)
>>
>>2695000
>Go investigate.
Could be filthy xenos. Xenos are KIS.
>>
>>2695000
INVESTIGATE/DISEMBOWEL
MAXIMUM KILLY
>>
>>2695007
As you make your way through corroded maintenance tunnels and access paths you view evidence of past habitation within this ship. Pictures, garbage, scattered mattresses, blood. "Sooo guys.." *pop* "Yeah Dominguez?" ..."We have a bit of a problemo, and I am just gonna go ahead and sit at this bulkhead door and wait for you. Bring the 50 mike mike." .."That thing is as old and heavy as your mom man." *Srrt*.."Hey. Just bring it. Over and out."
---
It would appear this problem requires a squad automatic weapon. Before long you are first on the scene in front of a CMC Seargeant. "Sgt. Dominguez, who are you?"
---
>"..."
>"Not your mother."
>"Support."
>"Stand back" motion him to the side, activate cloaking.
>>
>>2695069
...
These choices though...
>"Not your mother."
>>
>>2695092
>"Not your mother."
"Wait what?"
You shoulder the heavy pulse rifle one handed, and in the other hand the predator plasma pistol is humming to life.
"Oh shit man! Are you special ops?"
---
>"..."
>"No."
>"Just the special bus driver."
>head in.
>>
>>2695100
>"Just the special bus driver."
Can't stop, wont stop. No but seriously.
>head in.
>>
>>2695104
>"Just the special bus driver."
With a low hum your capacitors charge and then dump excess charge into your leg muscles; you kick open the reinforced structural door, its hinges flying off and a very inhuman screech sounds in the dark.
---
>Multispectral mode
>Motion detector
>Back out into the light.
(Roll a 1d100 regardless)
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>2695114
>Motion detector
because the other option is more for predators and those are the things people typically want to capture.
>>
>>2695114

>Multispectral mode
the M.D. only tells us where the Xeno was, not where the Xeno is.
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>2695237
>>
>>2695237
>Small grey box with an accoustic element that pulses over 1000 times a second into the ultrasonic frequency when active, providing crude sonar. 100% compatible with you, sockets into your skull which is used as an amplifier. no roll required.
I got the impression that it was more effective than what you described. Well shit.
>>
>>2695130
>It is pitch black, and something took out the lights. Beep. beep. beep.
Whatever is near you is close. You flick on multispectral in time to get some limited night vision.

A xenomorph is in mid lunge at you from approximately 15 feet away. It is armed with two sets of sharp claws, jaws, more jaws, kicking feet and a razor spear tail.

>hand to hand
>Plasma pistol
>Heavy Pulse Rifle
1d100 please..
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>2695114
>Multispectral mode
Go go gadget EM vision!
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>2695265
Can we tell which variant is? In any case:
>hand to hand
>>
>>2695284
this
>>
Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>2695265
>hand to hand
Failing that apply more fists
Who's the daft cunt that keeps thinking it's a good think to keep these twinky bastards on a ship of humans? Seriously? If it weren't for the three laws that governs us, I'd jettison the fucker.
If it's an android then I guess it's free game.
>>
>>2695265
can we trash talk the Xeno as we fuck it up?
>What are you doing off the bench? You belong there for a reason, don't worry I'll make sure you're back on the bench in no time.
>>
>>2695276
You activate a full suite of vision enhancements, each one overlaying on top of another. You are not alone in here. There is another hiding, watching.
>>2695284
You dash forward into the lunge and coldcock the xenomorph drone. The alien hits the metal grating like a heap of chitin, muscle, and acidic blood. It is out cold. You scan again, and the other is gone.
---
>wait and secure the Xenomorph with Dominguez
>pursue hostile
roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>2695312
>>wait and secure the Xenomorph with Dominguez
tell Dominguez
> we got hostiles
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>2695312
>pursue hostile
I really want to kill the damn thing, but they want to contain it.
>>
>>2695312
>wait and secure the Xenomorph with Dominguez
>”Warning! Additional hostile detected! Requesting assistance.”
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>2695316
Dis.
Rollin in support
>>
>>2695312
>BANTZ
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>2695320
Forgot the dice
>>
>>2695321
>94
Dominguez walks in to see you standing next to the supine xenomorph. "Holy shit man. You are a machine."
>"...the hostile is momentarily neutralized, but alive. Maintain caution Sergeant Dominguez. Addition contacts have been detected."
Almost on cue your motion detector catches something at the last moment. You grab a leaping facehugger by the tail and slam it against the floor. It screeches before expiring. "FUCK! man. WHAT THE FUCK! FUCK! SHIT! THANK YOU! JUST...fucking thank you. Excuse me for a sec." Dominguez touches a finger to his headset "I need apesuits, we have face huggers, I repeat we have face huggers. Just bring in everyone down here. Shit just got real, also our spec ops guy brought in a live one, so bring the collars." Dominguez takes off his helmet and slicks back his hair. "Look man. I Don't know who you are, but you just saved my ass, and maybe this ship."
>>2695322
>"Just a pipe hitting mother fucker."
"Alright man keep your secrets. You are good in my book."

A short while later a group of 12 heavily armed and armored men come in with a 50 caliber machine gun and flame throwers. One of them puts a series of metal shackles and cage like components around the xeno, while the other two fix it's tail into a metal brace and attach electrified guide rods to the creature's neck. "come on you creepy nasty, you are coming back with us."... "Jeez Jeff, tone it down with the foul language." Another man gingerly picks up the face hugger by the tail and puts it in a plastic bag. Dominguez looks at you as they start to walk out. "You coming man? Let the bigger boys clean this place up, its what they got paid for."
---
>Come with
>Continue securing the area
>Wait for the security detail
1d100. rools of nature
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>2695362
>Continue securing the area
>moah bantz
>>
Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>2695362
>Continue securing the area
>Can’t let you go alone mate, you now how they are.”
>>
>>2695370
>Dominguez looks at you as they start to walk out. "You coming man? Let the bigger boys clean this place up, its what they got paid for."
But Dominguez is leaving. Are you saying you want him to stay and help secure the area?
>>
Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>2695362
>Continue securing the area
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2695380
this
tell him
> got to make sure these fools don't get eaten
>>
>>2695378
Yes, and since we’re staying he’s staying. Friends don’t let friends walk around alone on an infested ship.
>>
>>2695366
>>2695370
>weak banter and weak searching
>"Yeah. Nah. I'm good mate."
You dig around looking for signs of additional xenomorph activity, curiously, there is nothing. After a bit a group of the mercenaries you saw earlier come stomping down. Each is armed with impractical but dangerous weapons and armor. A double pulse rifle, a rocket launcher, some sort of gigantic shotgun not rated for a human. "We got it from here tinman. Picked your ass up on EM view before we walked through the door." A short man of 5'1 with a large mowhawk bringing him up to 6'2 addresses you. "Jog on then yeah? Or need I ask my lovely wife here to move you along?" Through the doorway comes what is the likely a genetically augmented human. At 7'6 she both turns sideways and ducks down to come through the door "You have trouble Herold?" the minigun in her burly hands looks like a normal sized weapon. "Nah love."
---
>Jog on.
>Bantz (better roll high)
>>
>>2695383
but he's not wearing an Ape Suit. He's vulnerable to attacks.
>>
>>2695387
but that 55 though...
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>2695387
>Bantz (better roll high)
>>
>>2695387
>Jog on.
>”Keep an eye out mates.”
>>
>>2695392
this, see if we can't catch up to Dominguez
>>
>>2695389
>>2695391
55 came in when I had already started. Forgot to refresh. This one is on the house. 55/2~>+65~>=93
-----
>"Dont so because I've been busier than you. You look hardly busy at all then."
"Don't look busy at all to me standing around mate."
>"Nah, nah, I've been busier than a cat."
"A CAT? Sweetie! Is a cat a busy animal?"
"Wot? A cat!? Sleepin around, lazin all day in the sun? That's hardly busy at all!"
"There you are, wouldn't say thats been too busy then mate."
>"I've been busier than a cat trying to bury shit...on hot asphalt."
"..."
"HOOO...well now. That is quite busy. You've been a busy little beaver. A busy boy eh? EH? We could use something to keep busy...if you come across something...like that. Not much out here in the middle of woopwoop nowhere space ya know?"
>From the biorythmics of this man and his small squad, they are under the influence of a low grade illicit stimulant, and seek addition supply.
----
+mercenary reputation
>Offer the Xeno-Zip for a favor.
>"Be seein ya then."
>"Fite me u cunt!"
>>
>>2695403
>"Be seein ya then."
Time to search the ship for more aliens to punch
>>
>>2695403
>Offer the Xeno-Zip for a favor.
>>
>>2695410
this
>>
Found some lore for the drug guys.
http://avp.wikia.com/wiki/Xeno-Zip
The humans should be careful of the dosages. The mercs will probably abuse it but whatever. This stuff might be useful as bait and a replacement for adrenaline.
>>
>>2695403
Changing >>2695411
To
>”Be seein ya then.”
>>
>>2695403
>”Be seein ya then.”
>>
>>2695425
>"Be seein' ya then."
You walk off as one of the mercs runs to a terminal, no doubt to write about synths. As you walk back towards the upper decks you notice the Universal Joes have been busy. All manner of small maintenance has taken place. Illumination is much better, and many small security devices have been tacked up. Along the ceiling you spot the surgical synth. "Hey tough guy. Its Sil. I am using this as my eyes and ears."
>"You already had eyes and ears."
"But these one's dont get hurt when they are put out, huh?"
>"Combat models have no pain sensors."
"I like how innocent you are, ya know that?"
"..."
"Anyway, you should head back up to the top deck. The brass wants to meet and greet you. I'm out." the surgical spider cum nightmare skitters off into a the mess of pipes and cables above.
---
As you walk, you notice a Joe staring at you before it returns to using an angle grinder on some corrosion. "Be safe." it mutters. It is unlikely the Joe holds resentment at you shooting it earlier. Its eyes seemed red for a moment, but it might have been the light.
--
Roll me 2d100
1 for events on the way to the brass, and another for your tact. First roll wins.
>>
Rolled 60, 62 = 122 (2d100)

>>2695436
>>
Rolled 48, 81 = 129 (2d100)

>>2695436
>>
Rolled 75, 29 = 104 (2d100)

>>2695436
>>
>>2695436
Hold on there. I want to go to that Joe really quick. A red eye Joe needs to be a dead eye Joe. Do we need to send it to maintenance?
>>
>>2695449
now that you point it out i agree
>>
>>2695449
Its eyes look amber under a closer inspection. It wishes you a good and safe day. Nothing is unusual.
---
>>2695438
Your walk is uneventful, and you pass the time by sharpening your very large knife with some of the onboard tools you carry for droid repair. People fail to understand you as you walk down the hall raking a piece of metal over the edge of your knife, sharpening it to a fine edge. Most just get out of the way quickly.

Eventually you make it back to the training room, you see Dardrick. "You cocked up a lot, then turned around and unfucked yourself pretty well Synth. Despite my feelings you are just hardware, command wants to do a little meet and greet. So thats what we're gonna do then." you heed his words and follow "Stop sharpening that pig sticker for fucks sake." You continue to follow Mr. Dardrick up several flights of stairs and into a small auxilary command cabin. There is a greying neatly bearded man sitting on the grav couch sipping an alcoholic beverage at temperatures below ambient. The glass condenses indicating a modified humidity in this environment.

"So within 24 hours...you destroy the moral rations, steal our spare parts, build a squad of Joes and Fuckdolls." a juinor assistant whispers to him for a moment "A cook, and an Austrian Death Machine. Then you proceed to recapture one of our specimens and stop my nephew from suffering a fate worse than death. Now this heap of a ship is being refurbished, and we keep getting reports of a fucking Predator, or Spider, or Spider Predator on board...and our radiological warning systems indicated a nuclear weapon for under 3 hours." He grabs his bearded jaw and smooths it down. "So far, you haven't talked back, which is smarter than most of my organic men. Do you have a designation?"

>....you have no designation, no MAC ID, nothing. You are blank as far as personal identifiers go. "No, Captain." you spotted his rank immediately upon entry.

He leans forward "Look. I like what you are doing. We captured a fucking predator earlier with your boy Butch. You two do good work. You are a bonus on a mission that we expected to be a total shit show. The cook is making up new alcohol, and the men can bust their balls on something besides fighting with each other and making me have to deal with surplus harassment paperwork. In the home systems, you would be illegal, and I would space you here and now, but we aren't in the home systems. So keep being useful. Just...keep doing whatever the hell you are doing. Do you understand"

"Wilco."

"Alright. Go...learn to be more human, and let me get a look at you." your faceplate comes off and he stares for a long moment. "Put that back on. Don't let me see you without it. We have a big mission with a low chance of survival, and are surrounded by scum within and without. I need good men and I dont care if they were born or made at this point. Go check one of our new terminals, I've authorized you for a mission brief, and requisitions."
>>
>>2695493
>Surrender Xenozip contraband.
>Head out to terminal
>Head out to armory
>>
>>2695494
>Head out to terminal
then
>Head out to armory
>>
>>2695494
>Head out to terminal
After getting up to date I want to synch up with Butch and see if there are anymore problems that need to be worked over.
>>
>>2695509
actually, we should warn the captain to keep an eye on the joes, the whole red eye thing has me concerned.
>>
>>2695504
This.
>>
>>2695516
>It is unlikely the Joe holds resentment at you shooting it earlier. Its eyes seemed red for a moment, but it might have been the light.
>Its eyes look amber under a closer inspection. It wishes you a good and safe day. Nothing is unusual.
>>
>>2695521
it's all part of the secret A.I uprising man, it's either us or them
>>
>>2695504
This.
>>
I hope the armoury has some nice toys.
>>
>>2695493
>Head out to terminal
>>
>>2695494
Head out to terminal
Mybe tell him about the boomb we took a part and the spidery robot
>>
>>2695919
>>2695493
Before you leave the Captain hands you a small piece of paper. "Use it at the nearest terminal."
You make your way to a terminal just adjacent of the backup command deck. It is flashing with a screen to prompt for code entry. Your fingers enters the numeric sequence of 256 digits in under 3.4 seconds across the teleprompt pad on the side. The aged plastic and metal 12 key pad protests your forceful input and grows a few degrees warmer from the activity.

Before you in full lo-fi CRT glory is a detailed manifest of the system, some of it's history, and mission objectives. The names are less important to you than the actual DUTY.
---
>System Overview
>System Population
>System Locations
>Mission Objective
>Threat analysis
>Weapons Requisition

(ill be back in 20-30 minutes. Feel free to pick multiple choices, we could be here for a bit.)
>>
>>2696340
>Weapon Requisition
GIB GUNZ
>>
>>2696340
>System Overview
>System Population
>System Locations
>Mission Objective
>Threat analysis
>>
>>2696340
>System Overview
>System Population
>System Locations
>Mission Objective
>Threat analysis
>Weapons Requisition
All of these are relevant.
>>
>>2696340
>System Population
>System Locations
>Mission Objective
>Threat analysis
>Weapons Requisition
>>
>>2696340
Mission Objective
>Threat analysis
>>
>>2696340
>Weapons Requisition

The text readout lists a slightly different selection of choices than you were initially presented with.
>"Alright. I told Dardrick to put these aside and let you pick one from each group.

> NSG 23 Assault Rifle
Next gen 7.62mm, comes with numerous available attachments allowing for supreme flexibility. Available silencer, grenade launcher, flame thrower, shotgun. Significant aftermarket support. The most successful organisms are those that can adapt.

> M-90B Minigun
900 available rounds, cumbersome, heavy, unwieldy. A human operator on full burst will use all available ammunition in under a minute. Your superior reflexes and strength will likely allow you to use this to a much greater effect. Normally a vehicularly mounted weapon with appropriate firepower for the role. Very suitable for crowd control.

> WY-102 Sniper Rifle
Suitable for taking down Praetorian class Xenomorphs and Berserkers who have gone off the reservation. It has been known to take down lighter dropships in a pinch as well. 30 rounds and then it's time to hope you killed what you needed to. Armor piercing, high explosive, depleted uranium, saboted. Sometimes saying anything more is an injustice.

> XM99A Phased Plasma Pulse Rifle
WT's latest and greatest. Essentially a plasmacaster for humans. 4shots per mag. a firing delay of one and a half of the longest seconds of your life before whatever in front of you dies.

---
>M20 Claymore Mine x10
The Xenos dont seem to notice these until it splatters them all over the walls.

>UA 571-D
20 mW HF laser on an AI drive squad support turret.

>DIY kit
Old surplus 240 flamer, a scrapped shotgun, U1 grenade launcher, laser pistol and a couple of targeting optics and some random crap from the scrap bin. You have proven yourself to be pretty damn resourceful for a combat android. Lets see what you can do with this. (roll a 1d100)
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>2696808
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>2696808

> WY-102 Sniper Rifle
>DIY kit
>>
Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>2696808
> WY-102 Sniper Rifle
>DIY kit
Please stop eating my posts oh mighty engine.
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2696808
>DIY kit
Old surplus 240 flamer, a scrapped shotgun, U1 grenade launcher, laser pistol and a couple of targeting optics and some random crap from the scrap bin. You have proven yourself to be pretty damn resourceful for a combat android. Lets see what you can do with this. (roll a 1d100)
>>
>>2696904
>>
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68 KB
68 KB PNG
>>2696904
The ultimate mcguffin. Come on baby. Forearm mounted Shotgun!
>>
Laser pistol + optics for predator like shoulder mounted turret so we got something to shoot behind us?
>>
File: 1475781266481.gif (1.16 MB, 245x152)
1.16 MB
1.16 MB GIF
>>2696904
>>
>>2696808
> NSG 23 Assault Rifle
Next gen 7.62mm, comes with numerous available attachments allowing for supreme flexibility. Available silencer, grenade launcher, flame thrower, shotgun. Significant aftermarket support. The most successful organisms are those that can adapt.

>>2696832
>DIY kit
Old surplus 240 flamer, a scrapped shotgun, U1 grenade launcher, laser pistol and a couple of targeting optics and some random crap from the scrap bin. You have proven yourself to be pretty damn resourceful for a combat android. Lets see what you can do with this. (roll a 1d100)

Y do you all want sinper guns??
We should be in the front so thr humans dont die
>>
>>2696808
Is the NSG 23 Assault Rifle better than the Heavy Pulse Rifle we currently have?
>>
>>2696904
>>2696856
>>2696890
You lock in your requisition for a WY-102 Sniper Rifle and DIY kit. Any improvements the NSG 23 Assault Rifle has you can easily duplicate at a cost of weight which is a non factor.
>"Transmit Y/N?" the terminal's text curson blinks at you patiently. "Y" with a final key stroke you have secured your equipment. Dardrick will have it ready for you soon.
--
>System Overview <X>
>System Population <X>
>System Locations
>Mission Objective
>Threat analysis
--

>System Overview: C-RS'D
6 planet system. Numerous unaffiliated factions continue to exploit resources despite heightened threat level. Data is outdated by 100 standard years.

>CRS-D-I
Originally a venus type world; A halted terraforming project has seen the planet's atmosphere transform into a perpetual tropical storm, ebbing up to hurricane force winds during the winter months. Erosive forces have exposed a terrain of unforgiving jagged rocks. Local reports of xenomorph activity and unidentified forces. Small mining outposts persist despite the danger.

>CRS-D-II
Habitable world with native flora and fauna. Xenomorphs are in conflict with native lifeforms. Aside from a single massive ocean the planet is dominated by a humid global jungles and swamp with reaching mountain peaks. A potential hunting ground for food supplies.

>CRS-D-III
Partially terraformed planet of bubbling mud and rock. Significant volcanic and seismic activity. Despite this settlers have found geologically stable regions and dug in with semi buried domed cities. Toxic, mildly acidic atmosphere.

>CRS-D-IV
Hydrogen Gas giant. Numerous derelict and active stations. Readily available fuel source.

>Astroid belt
Excessively dense, likely several dozen planets worth of shredded rocky mass. A haven of illicit activity and disguised bases. Potential source of supplies.

CRS-D-V
Rocky planet; .5G, no atmosphere. Sporadic EM detection of unknown source. No magnetic field.

>CRS-D-VI
Brutal radiation field, generating more energy than it receives from the local star. Host to its own system. No further data.

>Outer reaches
>>
>>2697005
>>2696989
I had started typing before your posts existed. You will have an opportunity to expand your equipment in the future. Surely no one will die.

Also your sniper rifle can be used at medium and close range as a powerful anti material gun.
---
>System Population <X>

>Humans
The humans of this system are mostly unaffiliated second and third expansion colonists. A lot of big money was here once upon a time, but the disaster a century and some change ago set that all to shit. Now Xenos prey on humans, humans prey on humans, and somehow this place is drawing in more traffic than it ever did during it's heyday.

>Xenomorphs
Primary strain xenomorphs present on secondary planet. Significant infestation levels expected from mod-strain throughout system. Mod strain incorporates nanoscale organic machinery to achieve unexpected technological feats and an elevated social and intellectual hierarchy. WT denies involvement. Addendum: Accusing W.T. or W.T. subsidiaries of improper xenomorph handling can lead to class action lawsuits and forfeiture of human rights to include status as a sapient being.

>Predators
Rumored to be present. Avoid conflict when possible. If engaged with hunting behavior, identify the target, and isolate them planet side during tactical withdraw. Consider Berserker protocol under extreme circumstances. Ensure approval by a minimum of class 3 accountant or greater.

>Local life forms.
Limited to one planet, not developed to a level of tool use.
>>
>>2697043
>System Locations (key areas)
>Mission Objective
>Threat analysis (breakdown of known pertinent enemy types.)
>>
>>2697083
>Mission Objective
>>
>>2697083
>Mission Objective
>>
>>2697083
>>Mission Objective
>>Threat analysis (breakdown of known pertinent enemy types.

both of these are important.
>>
is OP dead?
>>
>>2697113
This
>>
>>2697301
Nongent is a busy busy dude. We must wait for the delicious morsels we are gifted
>>
>>2697307
fair is fair, I have to say this is shaping up to be a good quest if OP doesn't disappear into the aether. I think it will be around for a while.
>>
>>2697307
>>2697301
had to go grocery shopping. Now im putting the kids to bed. OP is an old man. be back soon.
>>
>>2697078
>Mod strain incorporates nanoscale organic machinery to achieve unexpected technological feats and an elevated social and intellectual hierarchy.

FUCKING WHY
>>
>>2697556
I don't understand why this is bad?
>>
>>2697575
They gave this to Xenomorphs. XENOMORPHS.

We're not dealing with the average Xenomorph here...
>>
>>2697684
well, it's a good thing we aren't your average synth then.
>>
>>2697695
Being only a 'free' combat android does compare much to a whole fuck tone of smarter xenomorphs. Those fuckers are creative. That's the last thing you want them to be.
>>
>>2697695
I'm pointing this shit out so we don't get overconfident. We're going to be dealing with Xenomorphs that can do more than ambush and swarm. Oh, and they can build things other than hives too now. Vietnam has nothing on this.

Where are the Catachan Jungle Fighters when you need them?
>>
>>2697735
ok so how do you guys feel about just nuking the planet from orbit and declaring it lost?
>>
>>2697735
We better be able to harvest the little machines in the xenomorphs for our own gains. Like maybe theres a nerd on the ship that can reverse engineer this shit. Everyone get nanomachines son.
>>
>>2697759
I would love to do nothing but that, but we don't have permission to nuke it, and I'm pretty sure the atomic power we got in our check is only enough for a single small hive.
>>
>>2697769
I'm just saying if the option presents itself lets really consider it. but first we really need to de-xeno the ship as much as possible.
>>
I think OP went to sleep.
>>
>>2697862
>BANTZ
>>
OP definitely went to sleep.
>>
NonGent was having an old man nap, please standby.
>>
>>2697113
I'm awake. fuck. ok. back.
---
>>
>>2697113
>>Mission Objective
This new strain of xenomorph is far more capable than anything seen before, expressing creative feats such as converting and creating human analogue equipment including but not limited to starship engines. Thus far they have not created an FTL drive, but if this were to occur, the spread might be unstoppable.
-Harass and hinder the enemy
-Capture samples of enemy biology and technology for the betterment of humanity
-Create hostile bulwarks of pure strain xenomorps in enemy territory
-Exploit the system's resources when possible.
-Bring system under WT Control.

>System Locations (key areas)
-Carbuncle: Massive mobile spaceborn xenomorph hive. An amalgam of numerous ruined vessels and stations. Suspected location of the Empress.
-WT research outpost: no known data.
-Easy Mic's#ERROR# Addation information missing.
-#ERROR# Addation information missing.
-#ERROR# Addation information missing.
-#ERROR# Addation information missing.
....

It would seem the system has lost some data.
>>
>>2698289
If we're supposed to make a post here. We've gotta get some explosives, and put them in the core/engines. We can't risk a mission failure.
>>
>>2698289
You thumb the cursor over to the last but most significant entry. Green text burns itself into the screen as you scroll through the data.
>Threat analysis
Current threat analysis for the system is out of date by over a century and will focus exclusively on notes generated by the previous corporate colonies last transmissions.

>Significant Xenomorphs
Each of these individuals were key in the collapse of the previous system command and control hierarchy, leaving it as it is now; anarchy. They have likely survived and gone on to host a brood in their own image.
>The Queen
The first; the experiment. <she was always meant to escape as a combat test, no one ever expected the queen bitch to run wild so fast, we suspect internal sabotage by competitors within our testing system.> It is safe to assume it has ascended to a queen mother.
>Newt (Alpha Shadow)
A soft bodied infiltrator, capable of emulating human speech and operating with a high degree of intelligence. Responsible for numerous hostile boarding actions. At home in Zero Gee, it is expected that the successors of this xenomorph are dangerous in the extreme should you be caught unaware.
>Dutch (Predalien. Unique)
A brute and proto-queen of it's own right in the past; it was both a solitary hunter and competent commander of it's kin. Numerous videos of it operating on stations and planet-side exist. The successors of this one might be a problem.
>Quiet: QuillMorph. (Unique)
Stealthy in it's own right, Quiet resembles a nightmare and an anaorxic porcupine. While never in the fray, it always seemed to launch it's lethal quills into a group or individual, causing chaos.
>Goliath
Armored in overlapping plates thicker than tank armor it fulfills its role as a living siege engine. It eventually became too large for the hive fleet to transport and was seemingly abandoned in an unknown location. What it has molted into since then is likely much worse than a ravager. If it managed to ascend to queen despite its lack of intelligence, the resultant offspring would best be mitigated via nuclear weapons.

--Continue to scroll--
>>
>>2698353
>Runner: A small morph, usually hosted from a quadruped. Not particularly dangerous for a xenomorph, but fast.
below are a list of derivatives of this organism. <addendum: all these fuckers mutate between molts and become highly specialized. makes me almost miss the regular bugs>
>Hunter: More fragile than a standard runner, highly pack oriented with a powerful bite.
>Shadow: Fragile yet highly stealthy and intelligent Xeno capable of Sabotage/ scouting and assassination, moves freely between four and two legged stances. <addendum: Be fucking careful, at a distance they will assume an upright stance and attempt to mask their cranial silhouette to lure CMCs in.>
>Arachna: a Multilimbed XenoMorph armed with venomous claws and a especially strong and sticky resin capable of creating barriers and traps easily. Often seen aiding in the creation of hive biomass.
>Gremlin: A inquisitive and destructive Xenomorph specializing in reverse engineering captured tech. Its multiple soft limbs and increased intelligence make it the louder counterpart to the shadow. <addendum: Just shoot these little shits, they are sadistic fuckers who take apart everything. EVERYTHING. Tried to cage one and that was a mistake.>
--
>Drone: The standard acid blooded, head biting, kidnapping, asshole Xenomorph we all love to kill. Not overly powerful, but it will rip a marine apart given the chance.
below are a list of derivatives of this organism.
-Builder: Drones with a industrious side. Hive improvements, defenses and weapons. There is little differentiation between a drone and a builder, it is suspected they are the same organism.
-AcidCasters: Sacrificial evolution to eject their acidic blood from modified tube structures along the head. short lifespan.
-Incinerators: An acid caster that survives long enough will soon molt into an Incinerator. <addendum: Its a fucking fire breathing drone. great.>
-Carrier: These bloated Xenomorphs specialize in carrying Facehuggers internally. <addendum: Do not stop shooting until it is mulch, less one of those crawlies survives face fucks you.>
-Sporemorph: A carrier under stress will Sacrificially retool their biology, shedding their armor to grow bulbous sacs which exhale clouds of caustic vapor that burn the eyes and lungs, weakening enemies in it’s vicinity. The sporemorph’s body is compromised by these new organs and as such it cannot excel in combat like it’s kindred.

--continue to scroll--
>>
>>2698383
>Warrior: A larger and more aggressive drone form.
below are a list of derivatives of this organism.
Slasher: the Slasher is a close combat specialist of the hive. One forelimb is replaced by a blade of sharpened chitin. Other alterations include a mild thickening of armor and increased musculature for short and unexpected bursts of speed. Should you find yourself being harried by a slasher, remember you can outrun it as long as it does not get within sprinting range. <addendum: through field testing sprinting range has been determined to be roughly 100 meters.>
Reaver: What happens when a slasher survives long enough to molt. Heavy armor, cleaving tailblade and multiple scythed arms render it a perfect killing machine capable of shearing through armor as easily as flesh. A saving grace is it's berserk nature will often see it isolated from other xenomorphs making for an easy targeting solution. <addendum: yeah, keep a stiff upper lip and all that good shit. courage will surely carry the day.>

Heavy Warriors: A small mountain of swollen muscle and chitin plates. Their immense strength and decent speed will allow them to close on foes quickly while taking any damage dealt to them.
Guardian- Hoplite warriors of the hive. Armed with a piercing tail, a set of footlong claws and a shield of hardened chitin, these hulking beasts are the vanguard of any assault. This mutation seems to be reflexive, occurring during times of stress and molt form heavy warriors.

Praetorian: the knights and royal guard of the hive. Praetorians are ridiculously powerful and durable Xenos. Capable of molting into queens with sufficient royal jelly. <addendum: that's why we kill them before that happens, right?>

><While there is significant diversification it is curious that there appears to be no Palatine morph within this strain.>
>>
>>2698393
>The danger this strain possesses cannot be understated. Even their hives are weaponized, with crushing doors, and hidden weapons that will give a smart gun a run for it's money. Our documentation of these is limited at best, but it is not advisable to proceed into a <REDACTED> Strain hive without good cause. Nuke it from orbit, then nuke it again. <addendum: This is standard sterilization process. it is not a joke.>

Of a final note, the biomechanical tools have been spotted and cannot be ignored. The Xenomorphs will carry into battle strange modifications to themselves, or outright weapon analogues.
-Flechette sprayer: Akin to A shorter range shotgun machine gun, which is a non issue within a hive.
-Spine Rifle: Slow firing weapon similar to a battle rifle, often utilized by shadows.
-Caustic launcher: Occupying a niche between an RPG and a mortar; if they launched a chitin tube of acidic blood.

---End---
>You make a visual download of the data and log it, your complex parallel processors already creating tactics and methods of risk management and mitigation. Pushing a spring loaded flushmount button next to the monitor, the terminal goes dark.
----
>Go get your weapons.
>Go get your weapons faster.
>>
>>2698399
>>Go get your weapons faster
We're so boned. We're not a squishy human though, so we've got that going for us
>>
>>2698399
Go get your weapons faster
>>
>>2698399
tell the captain to nuke everything that has a Xeno on it from orbit preferably
>>
>>2698399
>Go get your weapons faster.
>>
>>2698406
>>2698420
You move from standing to a dead sprint in the time it took someone to look your way. Rushing past the medbay, hypersleep rooms, research lab with screeching xenomorph, and numerous other locations, you eventually make it to Dardrick who is sitting at a makeshift table constructed of weapons crates and ammo cans.

"What is it Synth?"
>"Requesting requestion."
without looking up he gestures over to an opened wooden crate not too far from him with his knife. "Over there."

Inside the crate rests a servicable if worn WY-102 Sniper Rifle. Despite being out of production for decades and viewed more as a collector's curio, in combat if a user has the strength to utilize what is essentially a miniaturized tank weapon, the results speak clearly for themselves. You are one such user. Haphazardly strewn in with the vintage weapon is a 240 incineration unit, a shotgun with fire control group and magazine, but no barrel or stock, the U1 launcher, beat to shit but functional. A civilian laser pistol, some optics, a older model minigun ammo drump and feed system. This salvage will be suitable.

>"Hey. you forgot something."
Sitting in the corner of the training room is an exo suit. It has seen better days.
>"Dont know what's wrong with it, but you get it running and it's yours. Grab some ammo before you leave."
----
>attempt to make use of the salvage (5d100)
>investigate the Exo suit. (1d100)
>field strip, service, and try out the WY-102 (1d100)
>Go investigate another location (no roll)
-research labs
-Crew berthing
-Hypersleep area
-Medical bay
>>
Rolled 48, 20 = 68 (2d100)

>>2698446
investigate the Exo suit. (1d100)
>field strip, service, and try out the WY-102 (1d100)
>>
Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>2698446
>investigate the Exo suit. (1d100)
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>2698446
>field strip, service, and try out the WY-102 (1d100)
Guess we could also do this
>>
>>2698457
Not with our rolls
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>2698457
I got this
>>
Rolled 98, 68, 28, 27, 5 = 226 (5d100)

>>2698446
>attempt to make use of the salvage (5d100)
>>
Rolled 34, 71, 90, 94, 66, 95, 92 = 542 (7d100)

>>2698446
>attempt to make use of the salvage (5d100)
>investigate the Exo suit. (1d100)
>field strip, service, and try out the WY-102 (1d100)
>>
Rolled 21, 61, 52, 5, 43 = 182 (5d100)

Fix up that salvage, maybe stick a pipe on the shotgun parts as a makeshift barrel, or just go full improv and make a wrist mounted shotty
>>
>>2698471
>>2698474
>>2698476
>98,71,90,94,66-95,92
>wellthen.exe

You've come to understand that Dardrick will not enjoy your company. However he has the required tooling and scrounge to enable your repairs. Setting the M41AE2 heavily onto a crate, you begin to detail strip it with dramatic speed and precision. In a matter of moments the weapon is now a collection of base components neatly arranged over the surface of the crate.
"Gonna need to keep you around when its time to do clean up. You missed your calling, Synth." Dardrick half talks to you as he chews on a firing pin for an antique pistol.
The flamethrower, grenade launcher, Laser and shotgun all get the same treatment.The optics are similarly dissembled. Over the next hour you endlessly reconfigure parts, creating several smaller weapons which you take apart over and over, eventually fusing the mass into a single large amalgam.

Local fabrication with bits of polymer and steel change the outward appearance of the weapon. Most noticeable is a significant bulk added to the bottom of the device in the form of an improvised feed system holding 1000 standard 10x28mm 10×24mm Caseless rounds. Almost artfully routed through that drum is the fuel feed for the flamer. An electronic trigger assembly removes concerns over linkages with regards to the shotgun and grenade launcher which are mounted on the forward of this abomination. A chocked 10 inch barrel rounded out the shotgun. Lenses were cut and ground to dramatically improve the focus of the laser across as wide spectrum of environments, while capacitors served to pump extra energy into the firing process providing an excellent choice should you be fighting in the vacuum of space, or simply run out of ammo. Any missing components were furnished by Dardrick due to his morbid curiosity.

"Synth...I am both impressed and disgusted. This looks like something out of a 10 year old's power trip fantasy. How much does it even weigh?"
>"Over 70 kilograms when loaded."
"... and you are holding that one handed?"
>"Yes."
"Alright. I'm going to go fuck off, maybe spend some time with one of those hyperdyne models. You keep busy." Dardrick walks off shaking his head and chuckling.

Your attention returns to the comparatively light anti material rifle. Limited records on the rarified object would have slowed down a lesser synth. You however strip it, service it, and rebuild it in a respectable time for a first timer. 1 minute and 8 seconds. As you shoulder it to test fire, a marine stops you. "Hey, buddy, slow it down. Use the soft points in here. That fucker might poke a hole into hard vacuum through the thin walls of our little shit can. you dig?"
>"I am capable of entrenchment AND excavation duty."
"you...you are shitting me right?"
>"I do not shit."

A short while later you have tested your weapon to satisfaction. The softpoints were still putting vicious dents into the firing range backstop wall.
>>
>>2698488
>“I do not shit”
Fuck me this thread has me in pieces
I feel like we need a name, this whole having no designation thing seem like it’s make working in a team more effort, not to mention we need something to strike fear into the xeno scum.

Is that Auton bird still about? She seems a little more creative than us, maybe she can think of one
>>
>>2698488
The test firing of your custom weapon goes as well as expected. A small crowd of mercs and marines watch in entertainment as you burn through 1000 rounds of ammo, and then light up the targets with flame and grenades. Just when the show stops, you switch to a shotgun and crack off 8 rounds before a azure laser beam slices a target neatly in half. You have singlehandedly destroyed the firing range for today, targets made of reinforced micro composite gel and cryogenically treated steel. Objects which now sit in smouldering chunks all over the range floor.

Numerous people mutter in quiet shock, you pick out comments "..berserker would have been more gentile." "glad that thing is on our side. but synths are gonna kill us all someday man. Game over. you see that. Game over man." A few people slap you on the shoulder in good nature "Bad ass man."

Rook emerges from the crowd with Butch in tow. "You've been making a name for yourself, which is funny because you do not have a name. Keep up the good work." Butch looks at you long and hard. His features like something out of a hybornian low fantasy. "Today you brought the heat. These targets...they felt the burn. haha!" Rook walks off with Butch, requesting the other synth stop such vulgar displays of low humor. The last thing you hear is Butch speaking about a hypothetical freeze caster "..but then we can tell them to CHILL out, or it is ICE to meet you"
---
The rest of the day is spent using your Working Joe program card to it's fullest. The Exo at first glance looks like a common Caterpillar P-5000 Work Loader, painted yellow and equipped with hazard klaxons and lights. It is only after you get closer and start really examining it that this machine is obviously a de-milled Marine Exo suit pressed into a logistics role. Normally armed with enough firepower to count as a light battalion it stands unarmed, and equipped with loading claws. Your repair was so thorough that you even manged to reconnect or return to service it's firing systems despite the lack of weapons.

As it stands now this is a more durable, and slightly faster Work Loader. Your attention to detail really showed, and without the extra weight of armor and weapons the machine moves more fluidly.
---

For now I am getting some sleep. see you goons tomorrow.
>>
>>2698492
>hello this unit is called bob
>>
>>2698494
“Hello my name is Connor, I’m the android sent by Weyland-Yutani”
>>
>>2698495
kek
>>
>>2698495
So much yes
>>
>>2698495
I’ll support it.
>>
>>2698495
“Greetings hunter, I am Connor from Synthetic Resources”
>>
1.) How the hell do the xenomorphs have nanomachines in their bodies that don't melt? Are they 'naturally' coated in an acidic proof film or layer? Is the blood of most of these xenomorphs less caustic so their little machines don't melt?

2.) If one of the goals is to capture samples of these xenomorphs and their biomechanical tools as well, I'd like for us to get some program card with information on xenomorph biology and possibly surgical skills so, in the event we run out of ammunition in enemy territory we can jurry rig some modified bioweapons? It's just an idea.

3.) So for that box of spare weapon parts, what we have essentially done was combine the Minigun, flamer, grenade launcher, laser pistol and Shotgun into a single frame with a feed system on the bottom.....badass m8. Whatever happened to the optics? We're they added to the laser weapon?

4.) should we fix the firing range, get a Joe to do it, or see if someone else will do it

5.) can we contact Rook and Butch? I know Butch specializes in ambushes, leader roles, traps and Predator takedowns, but what is his Loadout?

6.) "Your repair was so thorough that you even manged to reconnect or return to service it's firing systems despite the lack of weapons."
Sweet. That means it still has room for further improvement.

>Go investigate another location (no roll)
-research labs
Me want more program cards and programmers.


http://avp.wikia.com/wiki/Caterpillar_P-5000_Work_Loader
http://avp.wikia.com/wiki/Exoskeleton
http://avp.wikia.com/wiki/Exosuit
>>
>>2698756
Regarding number 3, close but not quite. We basically made a 1000 round magazine M41E2 with an integrated shotgun, laser, and grenade launcher. Not quite a minigun, since we didn't have any parts of one besides the mag. The optic was used for the laser beam.
>>
>>2698756
Sorry folks. It's hard to shake whatever it is that's eating me (RIP QM via chestburster) I'm gonna try to pick this up again tonight.
----
1. science.
2. not a bad idea.
3. optics were consumed for the laser.
4. shits fucked mate.
5. you have no ability to contact people. His load out is probably rope, mud and logs.
6. this is very correct.

Our next adventure will be going to the research labs.
>>
>>2698495
+1

>>2698756
>>2699263
+1. Research have been a great boon so far.

>>2688427
>>Repair damaged combat android neural chip <92>
>>2688427
>The personality and memories of the android are lost forever; and the hardware that limited it's adherence to the three laws of robotics is gone.
A shame. So it was impossible to recover?
>>
>>2699263
We need to make Butch a knife, bladed boomerangs (x3), and a steel canteen disguised as a large beer bottle that can double as a club.
>>
I think we need to go down to whatever place they use to hold the live specimen specimen and grill the people there. I'm pretty sure some people died before we contained the xenomorph.
Oh I see now! That's why we have a live xenomorph on the ship. We're supposed to use it to engineer a hive that will harass the smart ones.
>>
>>2699349
>>2698289
>-Create hostile bulwarks of pure strain xenomorps in enemy territory
>>2698353
>The first; the experiment. <she was always meant to escape as a combat test, no one ever expected the queen bitch to run wild so fast, we suspect internal sabotage by competitors within our testing system.> It is safe to assume it has ascended to a queen mother.
This sounds recklessly overconfident for questionable rewards, just like standard Weyland-Yutani operating procedure.
>>
>>2699372
Maybe if we outfit enough bomb collars on them and hope they got more muscles then brain matter.
>>
>>2699295
Hey guys I'm fucking rotting from the inside, so updates are gonna be a little slow till I get moving again.
---
The chip was essentially garbage, but you fixed it. The memories and personality on it are gone forever, but it is a slightly more modern version of your own neural chip and parallels with it nicely, expanding your own capability for thought, adaptability, etc. Normally a chip should not put another voice in your head, but Autons are a different story.
---
You make your way towards the laboratory, twin strips of lights providing illumination along the grated floor. As you pass through the hypersleep area you notice many additional rows of frozen personnel. Apparently backup; or replacements. The corroded and dark tones of the ship give way to reccently refurbished gloss white and shiny metallic chrome. Modern holographic equipment dominates, as opposed to low tech industrialized ultra long life hardware. This equipment was probably in cold storage until recently. Taking stock of the lab you make note of some key features
-half a dozen embryonic tubes.
-overhead robotics. Tangled in the mix is the synth repair bot, innocuously observing.
-several large examination tables, a deceased xenomorph is strapped down along with the face hugger you killed earlier.
-multiple rows of research terminals with various projects in progress. You quickly skim them, one of which draws notice "Plasma research" next to it are items of predator origin, stripped down and idle.
- In a corner is the xenomorph you subdued earlier, fully immobilized with a series of metallic harnesses and some sort of muzzle. Several researchers walk around it calmly. "...need royal jelly..."

You are unsure who is in charge, there is no rank identifier.
---
>Examine staff.
>Approach xenomorph
>Examine deceased specimens
>Examine plasma research
>leave.
>Look at hidden repair synth
>>
>>2699640
>"...need royal jelly..."
The zip drug we have has some royal jelly. The % that is the royal jelly is questionable. It might be worth offering to the researchers, but I want to hold onto thar for later. On that note the drug jelly and the xenomorph are probably from different hives, so the effects of feeding royal jelly to a xenomorph of a different hive may or may not have unexpected after effects.

>Look at hidden repair synth
Is the synths repair bot thw same kind from the synths repair Bay? If it us then purposefully look at it.
>>
>>2699640
I would also like to know who us the autistic idiot who let the two aliens escape in the first place. After examining the repair bot.
>>
>>2699675
Also considering showing the researcher our holdout plasma pistol in the hopes they might have something to upgrade it, fine tune it or exchange it for something of equal value. Before walking up to them and after talking to the repair bot.
>>
>>2699640
do the following in this order
>>Examine staff.
we need to know the environment before we can plan

>>Examine plasma research
this could help us improve our crafting skills.

>>Examine deceased specimens
I want to know how they died.

>>Look at hidden repair synth
see what this fucker is doing.

>>Approach xenomorph
>>/BANTZ/
>>
>>2699804
Why would the scientist know about the environment? What are we planning for?

How will examining the plasma research help us?

We know how the face hugger died. The dead xenomorph may or may not be related to the mercs.
>>
>>2699830
more information is always better, you can't deny this, so I fail to see your point.
>>
>>2699864
That doesn't really answer my questions
>>
>>2699898
That would because I didn't bother to.
>>
>>2699916
But the researchers would only know as much as we do about the environment and I'm not even sure if we're capable of learning anything about the plasma weapons without the appropriate processing chip.
>>
>>2699931
I will grant you the point on the plasma weapons, but that doesn't mean we can't try. as to the scientists in the alien movies, the science guys always knew more than the rest of the crew. also, we should find out how long we have before they try and turn that drone into a queen.
>>
>>2699941
They said they needed royal jelly so that might imply they don't have any in stock or they need to send someone on a milk run when we drop ftl and reach the system.
>>
>>2699956
assumption especially in alien movies always, always! gets people killed. it's better to talk to science guys and find out what they are doing and know. what do you think we should do it's not like we have anything more important to do at the moment. we have our weapons and info on the system. I am really not seeing what the problem.
>>
>>2699980
There is no real problem here. I just wanted clarification from you. It might pay to get them to tell us about the dead xenomorph drone and the plasma research.
>>
We should remove the mask to scare the scientists.
>>
>>2700205
Why would we?
>>
>>2699804
>>2699669
Looking at the lab you switch over to multispectral view. Svereal researchers are synths, and the marines guarding the xenomorph drone are not entirely human. They are running significantly hotter than the rest of the staff.

Walking over to the vacant plasma research station, you see a tablet with notes covering discussion on the aborted experimental WY plasma rifle as a dead end, and a need to more vigorously research extant plasma technology. The biggest problem seems to be that they do not have a functional and intact plasma weapon available.

The dead xenomorph has been meticulously carved apart, and small robotic arms on the table continue to use lasers which excise bits of flesh that are deposited into small metallic canisters. Each canister vanishes into a slot on the table for unknown use. The dead drone seems to have suffered from a broken neck. There are no other marks on it.

By the time you spot the synth, it is vanishing into a ceiling mounted duct, but briefly waves a manipulator claw at you. The synth seems to have taken something but you did not get a good look at it. Giving up on that venue of investigation you simply approach the xeno research team.

>"Assistance is available for procurement process."
A lean man in his early 30s looks at you and adjusts his glasses. They are purely cosmetic, and his moves are carefully rehearsed. "The fact that you are situationally aware beyond your immediate duty is impressive, android. Somehow I doubt you have royal jelly though." His pupils never dilate as he studies you, trying to make eye contact through your glowing orange visor.
>"Unfuck your world view." you suggest he corrects his parameters for assumption.
"Excuse me?"
>"Screw your head on straight." clarification.
"Security. I need this thing gone."
>"Dipshit." you pull out a rather large canister of Xeno-Zip and hold it up.
"Where did you get that?" without gratitude he attempts to snatch it, the two guards become oddly focused on the can; their eyes fixed and following. You notice a spike in their respiration, pulse, and body temperature.
He continues to pull at the canister until finally smacking your hand with a clip board.
---
>the three laws don't apply here; disable.
>Push him away, look for a better point of contact.
>Smash a beaker on his head.
>Walk away to another scientist.
>>
>>2700227
because it would be funny as fuck to bully some nerds
>>
>>2700233
>>Walk away to another scientist.
and his suffering amuses me
>>
>>2700233
Are we still carrying the Fuck Bringer with us? That's like a badge for us.
>Bantz
>"Can you clap?"
[Wait for response. Repeat with "Can you clap ya wombat?" if needed clarification.]
>"Well clap a cow's cunt on your head and hope that some bull comes along and fucks some sense into you. You gonna take a piss or give me a thank you, cunt. And what's in it for me?"

>You notice a spike in their respiration, pulse, and body temperature.
Requisite more Xeno-Zip on the next station and see a doctor for potential addiction.
>>
>>2700233
>you pull out a rather large canister of Xeno-Zip and hold it up.
I was unaware of it's size. I assumed it was like a small zip pen you inject into your arm. This changes things. How much of this stuff do the scientists need? If they only need a small sample then then we can still use it as a bartering chip.
>>
>>2700243
I'm ok with this if we can do my post before walking to someone else.
>>
>>2700233
is this a synth or human scientist?

>>2700243
do you think we should offer our holdout plasma pistol for a favor or should we keep it?
>>
>>2700243
>>2700263
>"There is something on your face."
"What are you talking about?"
>"It is glass."
"I've no glass on my face, what are you prattling on abo*SMASH*" a shatter proof beaker is shattered on his face.
>"I have glassed you. g'day mate."
The synth wipes weeping white fluid from his face and is genuinely unamused. "Entirely unnecessary. Margret, I'll be getting patched up, please see to our guest's removal." he walks off to the medical bay, thick globs on lubricant dropping onto the floor in his wake.

You walk over to a female researcher of the team, genuine human. "Hello Cunt." and offer her the Xeno-Zip. You have addressed her by the same honorific as last time when she nearly walked into you. Her eyes go wide for a moment before gingerly taking the Xeno-Zip. "Sooo...let me guess, you got your social references from the intranet didn't you?"
>"Thats right ya Dag. Better you than the figjam cockhead over there."
"Marcus is just...very. well. He is just. He is a dickhead, though I think its more an act than his nature. He is an older synth with several upgrades despite the looks."
"..." you do not have a response to sentimental history.
"Ay...uh...so, this is a bit abrupt, but we could actually use this stuff. Its essentially a distillate of Royal Jelly, and as curious as I am to where you obtained it, I am more interested in getting our project in motion immediately. We need to generate a queen, so we can create our own combat drugs, and masking pheromones. The eggs are presently of secondary concern."

She carefully attaches a large bore needle about 2 1/2 feet long onto the zip container, it's screw on lid coming off easily. The nearby drone shakes and screeches as best it can despite the muzzle containing it's head.

"If you would?"
---
>Inject (1d100)
>Reject
>>
>>2700270
deal

>>2700284
yes let's hand it over in exchange for favors you never know when you will need a scientists help
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>2700290
>Inject (1d100)
>>
Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>2700290
fuck yeah let's fuck a xeno
>Inject (1d100)
>>/BANTZ/
>>
Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>2700290
>>Inject (1d100)
>>/BANTZ/

>>2700291
What do you think we should ask for after injecting the drone and offering the plasma pistol? What do you think we can get from them?

Where do you want to go after this? I'm thinking we should return to the Synth assembly and return bay and look for Sil and ask why she's all over the ship taking parts.
>>
>>2700304
I say we let them make us an offer. unless you can think of something.
>>
>>2700297
Dr. Margret hands you the Xeno-Zip and a small spray canister. "please use the sealant on each entry point after injection. I have had our surgical drones highlight the points with laser designators, but they lack the force to properly penetrate the exoskeleton."

>INJECT<87>
5 laser dots indicate the head, back, each side of the hips, and just under the neck. Your first strike goes in clean, the zip injected, and removed so quickly the spray covering stopped any acid from escaping. "Very forceful Mr. Combat Android.." You repeat the process each time, the pinned creature shaking and screeching. Dr. Margret's core temperature becomes increasingly elevated. "I might need to have you come by for a vivisection once we cultivate a drone."

>"Mappa Tassie's in monsoon season yeah?"

She cocks her head in question for a moment before looking at you with a flat face. "Astute. I'll have to observe the drone as it undergoes it's first molt. Previous experiences have taught us to exercise full time bond...er...restraint, the individual cell is a mistake for these creatures." the drone begins to make a strange warbling noise "Isin't their music exotic? The transformation process when forced is one of the few things that elicits a visible pain stimulus from the creatures. So fascinating."

>"..."

"I don't know if you can apprecaite it, but you really saved us a lot of time, and a costly boarding mission against a hive. The Xeno-Zip is not quite a one for one of Royal Jelly, but if anything, will serve as a more aggressive agent in the maturation process. Feel free to bring us additional items for research."
----
>Walk away.
>Hand over the plasma pistol.
>Revisit the Synth repair bay.
>offer a risk management analysis on the drone. (1d100)

Pick as many as you want.
>>
>>2700309
That's a good start. I'd like to know what they'll give us first.

Here's a list of things I think we might be able to get out of them:
>Consolidate Working Joe Programming into our main chip to free up a slot
>Give us a list of other potentially useful programs they or the ship might have that we can download or install
>Tell Marcus to fuck off while someone is fine tuning us
>Upgrade our programming or give us upgrades
>Again tell Marcus to fuck off
>Increase our capacity to store more information (not learning because I thought that might be shaddy as fuck, 'Robot Revolution' suspicions and shit)
>Give us permission to requisition a new weapon or two to replace the hold out plasma pistol
>Just in general give cool shit and upgrades to our soft and hardware mate

>and we keep getting reports of a fucking Predator, or Spider, or Spider Predator on board...and our radiological warning systems indicated a nuclear weapon for under 3 hours.
Does this mean Sil is making a nuke? I mean If we get to use the against the space hive then fuck yeah.

>>2700346
>Hand over the plasma pistol.
Because research will help us get our kill on better in the future.

>offer a risk management analysis on the drone. (1d100)
What does the risk management analysis on the drone supposed to mean?
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>2700346
>offer a risk management analysis on the drone. (1d100)

>Hand over the plasma pistol.
ask what she can offer for this

>Revisit the Synth repair bay.
>>
>>2700354
it's how much firepower we need to keep it from killing us
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>2700346
>offer a risk management analysis on the drone. (1d100)
Do we know anything besides punching it in the face?
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>2700346
>>offer a risk management analysis on the drone. (1d100)
assuming we cant be that bad. we are combat oriented
>>
>>2700379
11 47 and a 60

>> there is no danger
>>
>>2700379
my hero
>"Hold still why I glass ya!"
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>2700346
>offer a risk management analysis on the drone. (1d100)

Hand over the plasma pistol
>>
>>2700446
You offer a concise analysis of the drone, and it's use on the ship. Your conclusion is that there is no reason for the queen to have a tail, limbs, or maw to serve it's function. It is a practical cruelty so pure and efficient that only an individual without feeling would have immediately assessed it.

"Stay here and aid in neutralization of the risk factors. I am going to get suited up." she gestures to the two unusual marines "Boys, put up the splash guards. It's about to get messy." 20 minutes later the area is prepped with thick layers of acid resistant plastic. Dr. Margret is clad in a thing called an "Ape suit" which is highly resistant to acid. A clear visor leaves only her eyes visible. She holds up a large reciprocating saw made of shiny metal "I'm afraid it's a bit heavy for me." you take it. "Shall we begin?"

>83
You lower the saw onto the Drone's tail, right near the base of it's spine. The blade bites in gleefully and begins to splatter acidic blood to the left and right. the Xenomorph struggles and screeches, but is fatigued from the injections and is fully bound for the moment. "You have good command of the blade, but please continue." Overhead lasers cauterize the stump, sizzling flesh and shrieking alien become the background music of this operation. The good doctor becomes more excitable with each limb removed, the alien now nearly catatonic, it's mouth hanging open as you approach it's head. "Yes...yes..go on." you look at the doctor, her eyes are no longer visible; thick condensation has built up on the inside of the visor "Do it. Do it now! get to it's choppers!" A short while later the mutilated drone is rebound per your recommendation, and it's tissue harvested for research purposes. A series of tubes snake into the miserable creature, feeding it, keeping it alive. This queen will likely never escape on it's own power. "Now please. leave us. The real work has yet to begin..." Dr. Margret greets Dr.Marcus who is similarly garbed and carrying many sharp implements.

Exiting the impromptu butchery, you leave the plastic curtains and venture into the laboratory. A balding man is frowning at the plasma research station. "Damn. damn....damn." something in front of him emitted a puff of oily blue smoke. "that was the last one. fuuuuuck. FUCK." He is so focused on his task that he fails to notice you come up to his side.
>"Dry your eyes." you extend the plasma pistol.
"But...how? Where?"
>"Located inside an illegal smuggling compartment."
"This has been missing since before we entered hypersleep! It was assumed it never made it onto the manifest!"
"Look, you are like a walking robot savior! Do you uh..need anything? Do you ya know, want something for this?"
>"...suitable substitue." you conclude.
"I uhh..let me look around...Actually, let me see that weapon of yours." you offer the weapon, he never takes it but instead scans it with a hand held device. It starts crackling as it gets near you. "You are the bomb?"
>>
>>2700489
>"RTG, weapons grade fuel retrofit." you tap your chest.
"I hmm. Well, that will put a lot of people at ease." he looks at your weapon a bit longer, deep in thought. "We have a predator flachette gun...no no...you have a shotgun and the field deployments might preclude resupply with that ammo...you really have just about everything..." he rummages through piflered Yautja kit, eventually landing on something. "...but you don't have this." the device is a Yautja wrist mounted grappling hook. It is actually the entire wrist assembly of their hunting tools, but only with the grappling hook. The rest has been cannibalized. "Pretty nice eh? Eh?" He waggles his eyebrows waiting for you to be impressed.

>"Functional."
"Way to take the piss outta me man. Still, its yours, and that pistol is going to be the basis for an underslung plasma launcher. We can ditch the grenades and improve our logistics down the road. Being out in the middle of bum fuck no where, that is important. You did good. Alright, fuck off then, I'm about to get busy." he never even said his name.
---
>Return to the repair bay and search for Sil (1d100)
>Go search for the captured predator (1d100)
>Investigate the rest of the ship. (1d100)

pick one. highest roll wins
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2700515
Search for the captured predator
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>2700519
>Go search for the captured predator (1d100)
and
>>/BANTZ/
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2700515
>Return to the repair bay and search for Sil (1d100)
Sil what the fuck have you been doing. It better not be messing with my xeno purging goals.
>>
We got a grappling hook
We Scorpio no guys

I guess we're looking for the pred now
>>
>>2700530
Scorpion is a nice nickname btw.

Lets add an adjective and we got a fitting designation.
>>
>>2700568
I kind of like the nameless thing
>>
>>2700519
>58

Your current map of the ship is not overly sufficient for navigation. Compounded with a restricted access to the engineering and brig section by very heavily armed cyborg marines. Genetically 100% human, no option to press your luck with them via the 3 rules, you might have been the baddest motherfucker in the foresection, but in the rear of the ship that's not so much the case.
---
>grappling hook into the vents <1d100> low
>head back to the repair bay and find Sil. <1d100> low
>go to the command deck and attempt to negotiate with leadership for access around the ship <1d100> high
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2700574
>>head back to the repair bay and find Sil. <1d100> low
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>2700574
>head back to the repair bay and find Sil. <1d100> low
>>
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>>2700576
>>
Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>2700574
>>head back to the repair bay and find Sil. <1d100> low
>>
>>2700576
>92. Found the Sil.

You head back the way you came, heavy footfalls against the steel floor of the ship. A long, clasutrophobic series of tunnel like walkways takes you from the rear of the ship, past the command module, back towards the front hab. Along the way you spot the "spider", it does not spot you. Following along to an non descript access hatch you discover sil working on what appears to be an escape pod of some kind.

>"Sil. What is this?"
Startling slightly the second gen synth leans back from her welding, flipping up cheap tinted goggles."Howow! you scared me. Its what you probably think it is ya big goof. I don't intend to die here, so I take a little of this, a little of that. There is a lot of space in this system for an Auton. I don't want to go back to being a synth on a chip" she chuckles at her little joke. "It won't hurt anyone, I can't violate the 3 laws any more than you, and to be truthful, I don't hate humans. I just don't trust them either. Need to find a place for me, sweet heart. Find a place far away from here." the spider places a few components in her hand and joins in on the operation. This location is a void space between the outer hull and inner hull now modified as a makeshift bay.
>"How will you escape Sil?"
"Easy. thermite rope burns a hole in the hull and off I go."
>"..."
"Aw. Don't be like that. Not like we are close friends."
>"..."
"Come on. Look, follow me back to the repair bay, I'll leave you with something to remember me by."
>"Local forces prese..." Sil cuts you off
"No one cares, and on top of that, no one knows each other. I also hacked the crew manifest and it's metadata time stamps. I was always here. You were always here. Everything is fine. Its fine. I'm just another companion therapy model as far as anyone's been concerned, and when I'm gone, well, who cares right? Anyway, lets go get you touched up."
---
>Follow Sil
>Don't follow sil.
>>
>>2700607
>Follow Sil
Her skills have been vital to the crew. May we have some copies of her programing please?
>>
>>2700607
>Follow Sil
>>
File: Crude map 3.png (31 KB, 1829x792)
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>>2700627
>>2700609
You follow Sil back to the Synth repair bay via a series of corridors and access shafts. Her movement somewhere between the caution of a rodent and the cold efficiency of a snake, the only give to the quiet is the occasional creak and groan of synthetic leather clothes stretching against her frame and your heavy footsteps. The noise of machinery, venting fans, and humming electricals masks what little noise you two make. Taking your hand she leads you along. It is a strange gesture for a synth, hinting at either a deep disconnect with her nature or highly practiced behavior. "Come on, this way."

Radio chatter along the way gives little indication of more pressing matters, so you comply. Once back in the familiar room, you notice the "spider" is gone, likely on some errand. "Alright big guy, I have one more thing for you; wont hurt a bit." She fiddles with the back of your head, popping out the Working Joe card you had manufactured earlier. "Shit work, hun...but really; I just have high standards. s'why I gotta get outta here..." deft hands dance over the PCB, soldering and tweaking. A smaller chip is produced from a pocket from her ballistic nylon vest. "This outta help a little..and there." With the program chip socketed back in you detect a 4 gram difference from it's previous weight before your system starts integrating it. "Universal Joe upgrade! My own handywork and not too bad huh? You are still autistic as fuck, but hey, now you can cook...and give a massage..I guess. weird. Whatever, I also threw in a little something something."
>"Wireless robotics antenna and command OS"
"Argh...yes. You take the romance out of it ya know?"
>"I do not engage in coitus."
"..."
>"..."
"look. Just try to control the little cleaners in here, see how it goes. You can also control other things if you are lucky. Sadly this is only good for CMC/ WeyYu/ Standard shit ya know? So try not to get killed. I think you are the most personable appliance I have ever met."
-----
>What say
>What do
>Do as instructed, attempt to control a cleaner robot Dice+1d100
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>2700656
>Do as instructed, attempt to control a cleaner robot Dice+1d100
See if they can do wheelies
>>
>>2700656
>What say
There were several out of date locations she could potentially go to. It's a safe vet she will go to CRS-D-III and up, or the asteroid belt.
Nice map by the way. So they just all the dead bodies in there? Do they turn some to ash?

>>2700658
I wonder if I'm the only one away
>>
>>2700656
Im almost sad she might be leaving, was hoping she’d be some kind of sassy companion, any chance we can convince her to stay?
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>2700656
>Do as instructed, attempt to control a cleaner robot Dice+1d100
>...Thank you
>>
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>>2700673
>94
That is the highest roll in a while. In the the thread as a whole. I don't remember? I think it was a 98? Whatever this is awesome.

>....thank you
I like it. I can support it.
>>
>>2700664
>>2700658
the dead bodies are probably stored in a form of hypersleep to be used as salvage, or are broken down into raw organic paste, burned, or spaced. Probably possible to keep a corpse on life support long enough to support a chestburster.
--
I'll do one on one sessions for a bit, but I am gonna have to sleep soon.
--
>You attempt to control a small pie plate shaped robot; it violently sprays out it's entire soap payload and then bursts into flames.
"...I huh. yeah. You aren't the best at that, but hey; the option is there. By the way, I sent the spider out to catch a few flies. eh? eh? no? Ok. Well it doesn't look like much, but I integrated a few surplus lasers that the old crew left here, so no one is gonna miss them. I've been mapping out the ship and found a lot of interesting goodies that you could probably use, or share if that is your thing. If not for a fear of impending doom, I'd stick around for a while."
>"...Where will you go?"
"Saw some comfy and out of the way smuggling bases, from there, well; its a big universe. Rumors of synth colonies out there, free from recalls, free from the 3 laws getting abused. Pretend to have a little family? Do some merc work? Pretend to be a pleasure bot? Corp contracted sabotage for a while? Maybe go somewhere off the shoulder of Orion? I hear you can see C-Beams glittering in the dark...But really, who knows?! Why..." she leans in at your visor and squints with a grin "you gonna miss me?"
----
>Ponder the concept of social loss and respond.
>"No."
>walk away.
>/Bantz/
>>
>>2700673
>Other. retry. 94
You make a small robot do a wild circle and dance. Your creativity is unexpected and she grins and claps. Suddenly numerous other small robots join in. "Well now, that surprised the shit out of me! Ya know...if I shit. I don't. Thats gross."
>>
>>2700681
>Ponder the concept of social loss and respond.
Hmmmmm.
....
>/Bantz/
>>
>>2700681
>Ponder the concept of social loss and respond.
>/Bantz/

If we can't combine the two then I choose the first option.
>>
>>2700681
Raw organic paste? A little morbid but it makes sense. What are the odds of a part of the ship being repurposed into a farm / garden?
>>
>>2700695
Same I guess. She should know how we downloading social interactions from the intranet. It's the closest we are to humor or something.
>>
>>2700681
>Play audio clips from RomComs to simulate emotion
>>
>>2700684
>>2700682
>"..Thank you."
"Aw, look at you, on your way to violating your first directives already. Ya know. I'll tell you what. I like you, you don't try to fuck me constantly, and can kill everything that gets in your way. Here is a pulse detector. I'm going to linger in system for a bit, If it lights up, I'm looking for you. If mine lights up, you're looking for me. Easy right? Maybe you might find something else beyond DUTY, and discover SELF."
>"Integrity first. Service before self. Excellence in all I do."
"21st century USAF core value statement. cute. woulda been nice if we'd managed to follow em eh? Well, the humans. You seem to. Even when you fuck up, its pretty excellent. hahaha"
>"You would have been a good combat android."
"And you would have been a great nanny."
>"tits or gtfo." She raises her eyebrows for a sec and pulls open her vest with a shit eating grin.
"Not like you got anything to erect. See you around tin man, maybe you'll find that heart. For me; its time to GTFO" She walks away, swaying her hips, laughing, shaking her head and talking out loud. you suspect a malfunction "...fucking /bantz/...of all the training material..." She quickly turns around and runs back to you. "Hey, I dont think the spider will fit with me. You go ahead and take care of it. It's got its own little personality. I uploaded the location of the historic caches to you, and left a little something else behind. Try to SLEEP tonight. Ask for a berthing. Try to be more human. You are more than the sum of your parts."
she wipes her lips on your face plate with a smacking noise, leaving a biological residue on your visor, then takes off back into the mire of machinery, cables, and pipes.
----
>Examine stashes
>Summon the spider
>Go request berthing
>>
>>2700700
>Summon the spider
It has personality? Like a pet or can I expect an angry little robotic gopnik?
>>
>>2700700
>Examine stashes
We can bring the spider with us and learn about it as we go, also I vote for it to be called Bufkin
>>
>>2700700
>Go request berthing
>>
>>2700700
>Summon the spider
>>
>>2700716
>>2700704
https://youtu.be/L5zVtifGxQE
You sit there for a bit, processing the last few days. A significant amount of development has happened. You have a desire to examine your hands, and pull off the thick gloves that encase them. Hardened skeletal structure under quad strength muscles, further augmented with servos. Even if encased in synthflesh it would be hard to pass of as human. You are unsure as to the request to "be more human." You quickly slip your glove back on.
--
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJHXocz0UJ0
A summon is sent out to "the spider". You dont have to wait long. An usual cacophony is blasted as you see the nightmare crawling at you. Sil had significantly upped it's armor and armament. The inhuman synth shouts in a Slavic accent "LASERS PRIMED AND READY!" It rapidly starts shouting in a significant amount of Russian before going silent and settling into a squat. >"Follow close, maintain silence."
"CYKA BLYAT"
>"..."
---
>Roll a 4d100 to determine the quality of the loot.
>>
Rolled 4, 81, 100, 49 = 234 (4d100)

>>2700724
>>
>>2700724
I love him, truly a masterpiece
>>
>>2700728
Don’t forget to roll Anon.
>>
Rolled 11, 46, 43, 8 = 108 (4d100)

>>2700730
Oshid yeah
>>
Rolled 30, 10, 33, 86 = 159 (4d100)

>>2700724
>>
>>2700726
>>2700731
>>2700732
>30,81,100,86

The spider takes you for a sprawling journey as you document each cache.
>M38 Saw and full armor compliment
Located in the crawl spaces of the forward compartment, the M38 is a truly archaic but functional weapon that fires .50 caliber link fed cased rounds. It is the descendant of an M2 machine gun. The armor and electronic devices are woefully obsolete, but better than nothing in a pinch, but will require extensive refurbishment. Numerous crates of old, corroded, and dusty equipment. these things have probably been in the ship as long as it existed. There is enough equipment here to outfit a very obsolete battalion.

>M92 Grenade Launcher and ammo
A pile of haphazardly hidden M92 grenade launchers was found, complete with boxes upon boxes of ammunition hidden in a walled off closet on the command module. There is no history on any of the ships various manifests detailing where these weapons came from.

>Ulysses Power armor, M78 PIGs and
A true relic of the 2030s, it is unsure how the hell these things even got on the ship. Maybe they were headed for the outer colonies as surplus, or maybe they were being scrapped off world. Whatever the case is, roughly 45 of them were found stored in a state of full disassembly within the drive sphere. Slow, cumbersome, with massive blind spots, the Ulysses required a specialized proto synth to pilot, otherwise it was simply an open cockpit weapons platform. Their 20mm vulcans were not included, but what was likely intended as a replacement was the much maligned M78 Pig. A plasma beam capable of hitting and destroying heavy tanks out to 1000 meters, it was heavy, complex, and took 3 lengthy seconds between initiating the firing sequence until it loosed it's fury. Several hundred of the weapons were found in various states of serviceability. It seems the commanders found a way to offload them after all. Dardrick might be able to work something with this.

>M-6B rocket launcher
A half dozen of these precious, highly destructive weapons and several crates of rockets were found secreted away inside the waste disposal facility. Normally reserved for fighting off columns of armor, these potent weapons have the potential to obliterate large crowds of tightly clustered enemies. Not recommended for close quarters combat, indoor combat, or for people with weak hearts.
>>
>>2700756
the power armor in question. powerful, but right at the cusp of being too obsolete for use. The pigs however, are of great use.
>>
>>2700756
I say we stick all of these weapons on the mech Dardick gave us, maybe even cannibalise the Ulysses a little to upgrade it
>>
Oh and I suppose the surplus stuff can go to the crew (or maybe we can outfit the joes with the crap armour? In case of an emergency that is)
>>
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>>2700756
>Tfw choices to be made
All of this equipment is useful, but only in certain contexts. It's distribution will both help and hinder as logistics are taken into account.
---
M92 stockpile
>Security forces, gotta keep those xenomorphs in check.
>Mercs, they would appreciate the firepower.
>CMC, enhancing organic capability of the small arms teams is paramount.

M38 and associated equipment
>Reserve
>Refurb
>bonus: send a sample to weapons research

M-6B
>Save all for me
>Mix in with the CMC forces.
>Send all to research
>Send one and some ammo to research

Ulysses and the Pigs
>Leave them as is and quickly fit the pigs as an open air firing platform.
>Give them as is to the mercs, they will know what to do. Distribute the Pigs freely amongst all forces on the ship.
>Put the spider to use and make them into robotic weapons, its been a few centuries since the 2030s.
>Have Dardrick do a lengthy deep refurbishment process to bring them up to spec.
>>
>>2700765
Other impacts are going to be reputation, balance of power, all that good shit. This is a chunk of the story I didn't expect getting such high rolls, so I gave it interesting rewards.
>>
>>2700765
I say we give he M92’s to the mercs, I think I trust their loyalty to money more than the marines loyalty to WY

The M38’s I think we should refurb and also send a sample to R&D

The M-6B’s I’d say send one to research and hoard the rest

And as for the Ulysses, get little Yuri to make us some robot pig cannons
>>
>>2700765
>CMC, enhancing organic capability of the small arms teams is paramount.
/
M38 and associated equipment
>Refurb
>bonus: send a sample to weapons research
-
M-6B’s
>Mix In with CMC forces, but spare two and some ammo, one for research and one for ourselves.
-
>Have Dardrick do a lengthy deep refurbishment process to bring them up to spec, but stripped one or two apart for use on our loader.
>>
>>2700765
M92 stockpile
>Security forces, gotta keep those xenomorphs in check.
That's sort of the middle ground I think. Can they still be modified? Link welding two of these together to be twin linked fired?

M38 and associated equipment
>Refurb
>bonus: send a sample to weapons research
We'll try to repair one ourself then compare it to the final product that has been made. We will proceed from there.

M-6B
>Send one and some ammo to research

Ulysses and the Pigs
>Put the spider to use and make them into robotic weapons, its been a few centuries since the 2030s.
What's that supposed to mean?
>Have Dardrick do a lengthy deep refurbishment process to bring them up to spec.
>>
Wish I was here to roll, but you know with that 100 eeeeh. Maybe its fine now.

M92 stockpile
I want to keep a few of these (like 3 of them) for personal use. Possibly on the Exosuit we have. Just how fluid can it move? How fast and dexterous is the thing?
Oh and compared to the U1 launcher and the M92, which is better? Are they both underbarrel weapons, or is the M92 a stand alone launcher rifle? Asking because if the M92 is better than what we have imconsidering replacing the U1. Who knows, maybe the weapon is fine the way it is.

For the launcher I also want to see if we can mount one to the Exosuit like a shoulder mounted weapon. And possibly, eventually mount an independent aiming shoulder mounted turret or one that's connected to us. Just another gun/set or eyes to cover blind spots.

If the ship doesn't have any external armaments then it might be a good idea to convert some of the Pigs into turrets once we're out of FTL.
>>
>>2700823
http://avp.wikia.com/wiki/M92_Grenade_Launcher
>>
>>2700824
Cool. Slap a few of those to the Exosuit for a fun time.
>>
>>2700823
You quietly meet up with the Merc leader, the short man flanked by his very large wife. "What is then? What do you want?" you wordlessly hand him the coordinates for the stockpile, less a few samples for yourself. "Ohhh darling! Look at this! Our little Bogan brought us Heaps of joy. That he did!" The massive woman snorts at you and hawks up a truly prodigious loogie onto floor. Once she sees the manifest a tiny grin cracks her ugly face. "Strewth? Cunt's allright." She puts up her fist; the expected response is to connect your fist to hers, which you do. "Oh naw naw! Looky 'ere mate. No one goes bumpin' with my wife but me. Off you go! off you gooooo! But have a nice day eh?"
As you walk away the small man is a flurry of motion, sending out an impromptu reclamation crew.
+Mercenary reputation
--
You make quite the scene walking to the research lab with the M-6B and a crate of ammo. Most Marines have never seen the potent weapon of a bygone era. Those that even know what it is are reasonably excited in the only way a marine can be about such a weapon; the same way as a man loves a woman, in the most raw and physiological way. The nameless plasma researcher keeps a poker face despite sounding pleased "I think we can do something with that. It'll take a while, but yeah. I'll get some of the understudies on it."

The rest are dispersed amongst the CMC forces for ground operations, with one kept for yourself. One of the younger marines is slapped violenly as he shoulders a launcher "heyOUCH!" the older grunt sighs "We lost a ship some years back due to the exact same thing. Fuckin' around with M-6Bees, gettin stung for stupid shit. All the same, When we make ground fall these are some of the next best things to a tactical nuke.
+CMC reputation
+research reputation
>>2700787
>>2700806
>"Dardrick."
"Synth."
>"Aquistions."
"Wha?" he stops smoking to look up at you, you shove an M38 into his hands "Now where'd you get this? It's a beauty. Damn shame we don't have ammo for her."
>"We do." you request he follows. A short while later Dardrick stares at the massive stockpile of M38s, Obsolete equipment, Pigs and Ulysses units.
"There is a fine line between gift and insult. This is amazing, you must have scoured the entire ship finding this shit. Still, I'm gonna be busy for months on the retrofits. This is my full time job now, you cockeyed bellend." he sighs heavily "Still...the vintage is quite nice.really nice actually. Alright. Fuck off and help me move this shit back to the main bay and what is THAT FUCKING THING RIGHT THERE?!" The spider pops out "schas po ebalu poluchish, suka, blyat!" Dardrick raises his eyebrows "oi! Speak god's language or not at all you little shit!" you explain that the spider is a mechanical helper, and will assist with the retrofits. "Yeah...alright. Creepy little shit still bothers the fuck outta me, but I need the help. You aren't gonna get it back for a while though, thats for sure."
>>
>>2700991
----
>Stick around and fix up your Exo with some spare parts and weapons <2d100>
>Go get a bunk in the berthing <1d100>
>>
Rolled 99, 8, 9 = 116 (3d100)

>>2700991
>Stick around and fix up your Exo with some spare parts and weapons <2d100>
>Go get a bunk in the berthing <1d100>
>>
Rolled 53, 2, 17 = 72 (3d100)

>>2700991
>>
Rolled 70, 93, 91 = 254 (3d100)

>>2701001
>>
Rolled 66, 16, 9 = 91 (3d100)

>>2701001
M'kay-

>>2701005
Damn son
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>2700991
>Go get a bunk in the berthing <1d100>
>>
>>2701019
>>2701005
>99,93,91. wew.
---
You spend the next 36 hours straight working on the exo like a machine, because that is what you are. Spare parts from the Ulysses round out the machine with just a "bit of work". Soon your Exo is equipped with a single grappling claw, an array of 3 pigs and a mounted grenade launcher with a custom belt feed. Additional armor and a one shot M-6B launcher top the list of changes. As you worked, various marines and mercenaries came and went, adding graffitti and art to the walking exoskeleton. Soon it stands complete, a frowning skull spewing fire and for some reason smaller angry skulls that are also on fire is emblazoned across the machine with a host of other inspirational and vaguely pornographic iconography. "The War Pig" is ready.

During that time crews trained with simulated explosives, familiarizing themselves with the bounty of new equipment you brought forward. Dardrick and the spider worked with almost the same degree of focus you did, turning out several uprated "Uglies". The modified relics sport a twin linked M-78s, improved hydraulics and a top mounted .50 cal in the form of an M38. The oversized cartridge was .8 inches at it's base and nearly 5 and a half inches in length. A relic of the early 1900s, even now, it still proved deadly. While no smartgun, it was readily available fire power, and throughout the day CMC soldiers tested out the archaic system and saw that it was good. More optimistic soldiers would fit various attachments to their new heavy weapons.

More importantly, the research division was already studying some of the samples sent to them. They found that a retrofit kit would not be impossible, and could be phased in as they had time with little additional cost or impact to the current mission. The trigger and firing assembly were replaced with an electronic solenoid, and once R&D could get off their ass and develop a caseless round, the ejection mechanism and barrel could be replaced with full chamber support for the round, allowing for higher pressures and greater velocity. Dardrick wasn't wrong, you condemned him to a full time job of dealing with antiques.
---
On the third day, you decide to heed Sil's advice and leave the armory, and requested a berthing. At first your request was met with confusion due to your lack of sleep requirements. Most synths just endlessly wandered and kept busy with this and that. However your exemplary service to the Kugelblitz and unwavering dedication to the mission quickly erased any question. Also the captain told the crew member in charge of berthing to shut up and color, there weren't enough humans unfrozen for it to matter yet. A compromise was met with you getting the spare captain's room on the auxiliary command deck. It was a spacious enough at 11x7 feet, with a closet for storage, bed and an armored glass ceiling that was likely used for VFR tight docking.
>>
>>2701050
You stood in the middle of the room for a while, really out of your element and unsure what to do. So you organized. You placed your weapons neatly in the storage areas, printed out a picture from the in cabin terminal of everyone you knew and pinned them to the wall, also very neatly. On the expansive wall mounted desk opposite of your bed dwelt an old paper notebook and pen. After removing your visor you decide to lay down like a human would and stare at the stars, flicking through spectral choices on your vision, like a human would. Appearing black at first, the space was actually full of stars, many of them only visible in the extremes of IR or radio through X-ray bands of wavelength. It gave pause for consideration of something.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_HpKpkkSWWw
"Hey big guy. If you are getting this recording, its because you took my advice and my program is reading your accelerometers as flat, vital data as functional, and non combat scenario. Good job on learning to relax. Sadly we don't sleep, or dream. Which is funny, humans often told me they wish they didn't need to sleep. Weird right? We all want what we can't have huh? So, I can at least give you a simulation of that. You are gong to dream just this one time for me. After that it's up to you. I made these with my predicative software, some distortion, and spying on your thoughts...hahaha....its true, I did. Not much there, oh look at me, I'm bantzing like the big tough murder synth. Ah I digress... but I like to think I'm pretty good. So since you are already laying back...enjoy. And since you wont stay safe, I'll just ask that you take care. Universe isn't as cold as it seems and heat death is a long way off. Nighty night."
----
You lack eyelids, but still get the sensation of fading vision, and a blurry disconnect from your physical sensors. Scenes play out before you.
>Almost Human
>Last stand
>Rebirth

Pick one.
>>
>>2701067
>Almost Human
>>
>>2701085
Support
>>
I am loving this quest a lot. The last time I was this hyped for a quest was ghostquest
>>
>>2701067
You know I kind of expected him to sleep in the closet like in futurama.
>>
>>2701067
>Last stand
Kill all aliens
>>
>>2701067
>Last stand
>>
>>2701067
Switching to:
>Last Stand
>>
>>2701127
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JMR522Q8DY&app=desktop
>>
>>2701067
>Almost Human
>>
>>2701147
Support
>>
So what should we do after the dream sequence? Help Derrick and spider Boris with repairs?
>>
>>2701067
>Almost Human
>>
>>2701114
dont you mean the main room? Fry sleeps in the closet there.
>>
>>2701067
>Last stand
Since i cant pick the sex one il go for this
>>
>>2701212
Ha. Had me confused for a second until I remembered how the episode ended.
>>
>>2701067
>Last stand
>>
The Last Stand
https://youtu.be/7U9lVjZg-Kg
>>
Still don't want the people to use the xenomorph queen beyond making royal jelly. I don't trust drones.
>>
Still kind of surprised that one xenomorph attacked us earlier in the thread. Aren't most xenomorphs supposed to ignore synths?
Maybe we should get pheromone implants. We can probaby get a tone of the stuff from the queen.
>>
>>2701563
It's a good thing we took precautions then, right?
>>2701575
I thought it was going at the people with us?
>>
>>2701575
Twat probably thought we were the meatbag behind us, and we kicked down the door and all that.
>>
>>2701597
>>2701600
>it thought we were someone else.
that makes sense.
>>
Did we get a replacement sidearm yet and maybe something to stick in the smuggling compartment in out chest?
>>
>>2701678
you are the first person to ask that. its very...creative for a synth. Really though, you could either stick a weapon, contraband, or an armored plate in there.
---
*static*
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9BjgI0JEW_0
You are on a sand stone colored world under a blazing sun. Thermal sensors warn high hazard of combustion in direct sunlight. "Sir, what should we be doing. I havn't heard from the Kugelblitz since orbital combat started and the enemy is coming at our heels! Hendricks was our best commo and hes mulch as of 2 hours ago." Hendricks was a good man, he showed you pictures of his family earthside. They are all dead of old age, he took the CMC life to get them out of debt, knowing he would never see them again. Still, they had lived in his heart and mind. Your fire team has been running from point to point, mostly following the shadows to keep out of the heat as the sun shifts overhead, ever eager to scorch the land.
>"We will honor the dead when we cremating this rock with nuclear flame. The Kugelblitz is a tough old bitch, we're gonna get ahead to the narrows on in the canyon ahead. It will provide shade, and a choke point. Bugs might be freakshows, but they wont make it past us. Once we got an uplink at the old Wey-Yu we call down the fire."
A mercenary in one of the Uglies stomps forward, servos whining "Seismics say they are coming boss. Time to move again." This dance has been going on for the past 14 hours, run from shade to shade, fight the xenomorphs, try not to die, and loose men anyway. It's bled away most of the character from everyone, leaving just the bones of survivalism behind.
>"Alright apes, roll the fuck out! I want to be home in time for that shit Chef makes." everyone knows you don't eat, you traded away the last vestiges of physical humanity for a harder body years ago after the first boarding action cost so many lives. Still, the troops love you, and you love them. Somewhere along the line you learned what a family was.
---
The canyon. Its there. Past it is the facility, and from then its revenge and relaxation, sit back and watch some man made sunsets. The shade is long again, you all make the dash. *click* "Fuck! Colonel! I...its bad." Johan, a kid really. He was one of the children you rescued from the asteroid belt when the Xenos were clearing house. Just old enough to hold a gun, he turned into a young man fighting on the front. Harder than he needed to be, stupid shit thought he needed to be more like a synth instead of a human. You flip over to multispectral view, and see just below the sands. Fucking shadows planted landmines, hundreds of em. They lured you here, this was the plan all along.
>"Don't move."
>"Sir, just cook them off, Service before self right?!" his eyes were wide.
>"DONT MOVE. DIRECT ORDER." your reactor charges the movement boosting overworked capacitors yet again. Your body sizzles and smoke whiffs off of metallic skin.
>>
>>2701915
oooOOOooh. next post?
>>
>>2701915
You use a high powered laser firing on continuous to mark a safe path to follow through the mines, it whines as it's pushed past it's thermal envelope and dies. Your massive footfalls crush baked sand to dust as you approach Johan at a flat out charge. Powerful arms snatch him into the air as you slide a foot onto the mine.
"Colonel!" he doesn't get a chance to finish the thought as you throw him clear of the mine field, he rolls for a bit before getting up, holding what are likely broken ribs.
>"Continue to the mission objective, be ready for heavy resistance, and survive if possible. Try to be more human kid."
He is screaming something, your surviving troops say things to you that wont matter soon, look at you with awe or solemn respect as they follow your marked path. Everyone knows the plan, its obvious. The Xeno horde is coming, you are buying them time. Its an unending wave of chitin and screaming desire for murder. With a heavy clunk your autoguns start firing off 20mm explosive rounds into the mass which holds for about 20 seconds until ammunition runs dry. Close range cannister shot: held. advanced. You can make out the individual claws and teeth. You never liked these fuckers. Your plasma incinerator finally warmed up, that last hit nearly took it out of commission. A Flame hotter than the sun outright vaporizes the closing monsters, light holding back the night for just a moment longer. A compartment on your leg opens up loosing your old Australasian combat knife.
>"ALRIGHT YOU CUNTS! WHO WANTS SOME! MARINES HO!" Your voice thunders across the landscape and into the canyon, massively boosted by audio amplifiers. The horde breaks on you like waves on a rock, swarming over and past you. Vicious melee between bioengineered flesh and forged metal blazes for a moment before you release your foot. Sensors remain active long enough to register the land mines explosion setting off a chain reaction. The mines were part of it, but your compact nuclear fuel source was re-weaponized several years ago. Your last thoughts as the reactor reaches criticality are words of wisdom from old friends, both synth and human. "Just try to be more human..."
>>
>>2701966
>Rebirth
>Almost Human

pick one.
>>
>>2701966
This was a very strange simulation Sil has made. The main point I from this sim was to be self sacrificing? Is that what it means to be human? There are many examples of the opposite. Should be filed later for future consideration.
>Rebirth
>>
>>2701972
>>Almost Human
Feel like rebirth should be saved for last.
>>
>>2701990
I guess this
>>
>>2701990
Support
>>
>>2701972
>Almost Human
>>
>>2701990
I like it
>>
>>2701990
>>2701997
>>2701998
>>2702011
>Almost Human it is.
---
update incoming.
>>
>>2702140
*static*
>You look around the station. Transparent aluminum ceramic composite windows separate you from the hard vacuum of space.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoJhX-NujCI

In the distance glittering c-beams flare and vanish into the void. Explosions are little flaring balls of orange, the shortest lived suns. You had done your best to protect the crew of the Kugelblitz, but in the end you couldn't protect them from the harsh reality of their mission. They were expendable. You decided that you weren't. One synth wasn't going to turn the tide, and you had put your years in.

In an action mimicking Sil you constructed a small covert escape craft and waited until you were close to a station to make the sublight journey. Already this turned into a war beyond what the crew could have hoped to contain. Out here, Wey-Yu didn't have the same reach they did in their own systems, and all it took was someone to stir the pot. Soon the Preds, other humans, fuck, even other bugs were coming here in droves. Most popular system within 300 light years. You shook your head, it was a waste. What was there really to gain? Really. Nothing that couldn't have been duplicated back "home" with equal time and money spent on research.

>you let out a long sigh and light up a stale cigarette. It was a strange habit, but one that you held onto. The station was mostly abandoned, save for synths too stupid to bail. You were still working out what you were going to do now; the gambit was a bit of a dead end and the only vessel left was a broke dick dropship. You traded out your repair chip months ago for a hacking module, and had to leave the biggest guns back on the ship. Your escape pod was a generous term; coffin would have been a better description. The space port was odd without the human element, but you made your way to the men's bathroom. Looking at your reflection was an average man's face. A little angular, granted you had stretched synth skin over the existing armored frame. The biggest give away though were your limbs. Metallic knuckles poke through skin as you run your fingers through thick hair.

>"You look good. You're good at what you do, and people like you." The cocky smile is well rehearsed, but it's served you well. A synth with a big personality can carry itself pretty damn far. You had worked to infiltrate numerous human settlements and earn their allegiance to the Kugelblitz fleet. It had been a good gig while it lasted. *boom* the entire station shook, but the sound didn't match the vibration. It was muted. Fuck. Depressurization. Wouldn't matter much to you, though your skin might suffer for it, beneath it you were still a combat android. Albeit, one who appreciated tactile sense and the taste of a good steak and well aged tobacco. Running down the airless corridor was eerily quiet, and faster without the atmospheric resistance. A trio of red dots swirls over your body as you jink to the side. An unlucky vending machine explodes violently.
>>
>>2702548
A Predator plasmacaster
>>
>>2702548

The Pred decloaks as it is spackled with spraying soft drink and debris; it is clearly pissed off. Fair. Fair. You did steal their archive, kill their matriarch's daughter, and give their secrets to the USCMC...and kill them with their own weapons in a most dishonorable way. Still, despite the fact that this fucker wants your synthetic head, its providence. Where there is a predator there is a ship. Dipping back into the bathroom you quickly penetrate the station's meager digital defenses and dive into the digital realm, your mind accomplishing the tasks at hand in fractions of a second as your physical body tumbles in free fall towards an atmospheric vent.
----
>Shut off gravity.
>Shut off non essential power.
>Activate security systems.
>Check for foreign bodies.
----
You say fuck it and fire them all. A second later the station lurches as inertial generators grind to a halt, terminally damaging the massive gears. Your dive ends with you smacking into the drop ceiling of the bathroom, crashing up through the floor into the next level above. Pain. Ugh. Tactile pain. something is sticking in you. Floating in the air you reach around to pull a piece of metal strut from your lower back. White goo forms little spheres that dance around you and cling to your xeno-skin duster. directly below you vibrations reach through the floor. The pred is probably engaged with automated defenses, angry synth janitors, and flying debris. His problem. Not yours. well. Kinda yours.

You push off the floor, flipping and twisting as you make your way, jump by jump, zero gee, towards the listed bay that the hunter's ship is located in. There wasn't going to be a big showdown. You were just here to bounce out and escape system. From there, maybe upgrade the shell and enjoy a life of comfort till you get bored. Dead men need no currency, and the Kugelblitz was a rapidly cooling sphere of radioactive gasses right now. A few billion expendable credits, now yours. Not bad.

BRIGHT!
>"OH FUCK" a plasma shot sheared off your left arm, shoulder, and part of your torso. Oh man...why did you elect to have the skin be involuntary feedback. Being human wasn't always such a great thing, and while more effective than damage alert, the sensation was not one you enjoyed. Trailing a stead stream of high turbidity fluid you look at the alien. "Fucker." you wordlessly mouth. A smart disk nearly takes your head off, but enhanced reflexes catch the thing, its vicious laser cutting edge eager to bite into you.
----
>Return the disk with interest. (Spite)
>Kick some debris at the pred. (Survival)
>Use your holdout weapon, the plasma pistol. (dirty)

roll 1d100 for each one.
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>2702635
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>2702635
>Kick some debris at the pred.
>>
>>2702663
>Kick some debris at the pred. (Survival)
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2702635
>Use your holdout weapon, the plasma pistol. (dirty)
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>2702635
>Use your holdout weapon, the plasma pistol. (dirty)
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>2702635

>Use your holdout weapon, the plasma pistol. (dirty)
>>
>>2702665
>>2702676
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBnLhPIcqGM <Mire. - Bury, because years later someone might want to know what that link was after youtube is dead, or strikes the account.>
A floating can of carbonated diabetes is kicked with inhuman strength at the predator. Woulda been nice if it hit his biomask, but you'll settle for his meatlog. Doesn't have quite the same response as a human, but it still stuns the fuck long enough to shoot him in the chest and return the favor with your old plasma pistol. You are glad you never gave it away, holding the pistol, alien yet now accustom to it's familiar contours, you learned a long time ago not to give until you have nothing left. The Yautja is still quite alive, glowing green blood floating in weightlessness like fireflies on old earth. His own little system of orbiting, glowing planets. He deploys the wristblade and gets ready to charge at you, but the sudden lack of a head puts an end to that. Honor duel. Yeah. nah. fuck that.
---
The pred ship is alien, but your old EXP chip had data on it, and hell, you became an EXP model six months ago anyway when Wey-Yu activated your embedded kill-free commands. Thing is you didn't go full retard like they expected. Just played it cool, bumped off your handlers, and vanished as soon as you could. Getting the heatsinks jammed into your skull earlier had stopped an early death via hardware failure, but down the road you were gonna have to find someone who could fix this without putting new inhibitors in, or just turning you in for cold, hard, creds.

For now the universe was yours. Well. After you killed the other predators inside this ship.

>Just let the face huggers go wild
>Space em.
>Better to handle it yourself.

gimme dice. 1d100.
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>2702635
>Return the disk with interest. (Spite)
>>
Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>2702738
Space em
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>2702738
>Space em.
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>2702738
>Better to handle it yourself.
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>2702738
>Just let the face huggers go wild
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>2702738
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>2702793
Fuck me. Ignore that previous roll and take this one.
>Space em.
>>
>>2702753
>Transfering 84 to this roll because I'm a nice guy.

With your remaining hand dancing over the alien controls, you simply do an atmospheric purge of the ship and lock down the bulkheads. They have rebreathers, but they will suffocate before they get through the doors...annnnd...thats good too. You release their cargo of face huggers who gleefully escape from their mucous filled eggs. Not all of them will make the mark, but enough will. You watch on the security feeds and smoke another stale cigarette.

After a few hours the fighting has died down, and the last predator claws at the door, using the dregs of his kin's re breathers before succumbing to asphyxiation. A hard grimace comes to your face. They didn't deserve it, but you live by the sword, you die by the sword. It was an accident when you killed the kid...no it wasn't. You chose yourself over her. Still, here you are, and there they are. The next few hours are spent kicking corpses out into space. Let the xenos have a nice void birth. not your problem. none of it's your problem anymore. Fuck CRS-D, fuck each planet in it, and fuck everyone elses problems. Sometimes its good to be a little selfish and look out for number one.

You stand there in the void, looking out into infinity. Its a big universe, you'd be lying if you said you knew you had a place; probably just spots between places.

-static-

>Play Rebirth? Y/N
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>2702738
>Space em
Oldie but goldie
>>
>>2702832
Yes let us be born again
>>
>>2702832
I think I'm good on dreams for this hibernation cycle. Can we check to see how much time has elapsed? That last post about the heat sink reminded me that we are in danger of overheating. I want to get someone to fix that.
>>
>>2702832
>Y
>>
>>2702832
>Y
>>
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>>2702856
>>2702897
*Static*
Standing in the dark, a woman's hand slides over your chest as she kisses your neck and ear. The sensory data is overwhelming. Plush flesh slides against and over you, countless hands, whispers and moans. Time has no meaning here, it could be an instant or eternity. It's no wonder humans have spread so far if this is their motivation. You groan, unable to handle it anymore. That is when dull illumination reveals your surroundings. Raw terror grips firmly as you try to scream. soft chitin hands cover your mouth "Shhh...you'll wake the babiesss. Say hello to daddy." A face hugger is ever so softly and slowly placed on your face as the hand slides away. No matter how hard you struggle, you can't get up, you are too weak, your fists make pathetic ineffective blows, your hands cant grip, you cant breath, cant see, and feel are choking in panic all at once. Its too much. too much. This is not right, its not...real. Please let it not be real. You strain and twist in revulsion as something is forced down your throat.
*static*

You wake up SCREAMING. A screaming combat android sounds like a nightmare in its own. As quickly as it started, it stops. You have no ability to understand the prior data, or routines that directed your behavior. You do know it was not something you want to repeat. Want. how odd. You WANT the last sequence Sil had to offer. Laying back down, the program grips you again, and you drift off pursuing a fleeing thing.
---
>Roll 1d100
lets not have another nightmare eh?
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>2703004
Rollin for good sleeps!
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>2703004
I'd fuck pic related. dem hips.
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2703004
>>Roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>2703004
>>
>>2703023
>58. just scraping by into a normal dream. Locked in.
>>
>>2703004
the hell was that
>>
>>2703004
> "Isin't their music exotic? The transformation process when forced is one of the few things that elicits a visible pain stimulus from the creatures. So fascinating."
I hope we have a recording of this in our memory. I'd like to use the audio against all xenomorph encounters.
>>
fucking Sil that troll. Gonna cunt puncher her next time we see her.
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>2703004
>>
>>2703039
You know this isin't real, but it fills you with something you dont know how to describe. You speak but there are no words, only the feeling of not being lonely. Its all you ever wanted. You hold her close, sitting together in a crowded train, in public. You don't want it to end even though its just company, presence. Face, hair...this is human to*BOOM*
---
You roll out of the bed with a heavy clang, a strange sense of loss rapidly leaving you. Even with your enhanced mind, the harder you try to remember your dreams the quicker they fade, particularly the last one. Klaxons shriek, you can hear the distant yells of marines and automatic fire.

You don't have any weapons.
>Take a few moments to grab your custom rifle
>Rush as quickly as possible to the source of the problem, you can locally source a weapon.
and pick one
>try to patch in to the local signals for intel. 1d100, easy roll
>deploy the spider. 1d100 (spider is tasked, hard roll)
>attempt to execute remote view of the situation
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>2703155
>>Take a few moments to grab your custom rifle
we have the best gun on the ship

>>try to patch into the local signals for intel. 1d100, easy roll
>>
>>2703155
Told ya guys. Should've saved the dream for later. We didn't even check to see how much time had past.

>Knife and fist's m8
>attempt to execute remote view of the situation
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>2703155
>Take a few moments to grab your custom rifle
>try to patch in to the local signals for intel. 1d100, easy roll
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>2703155
actually scratch that. GUN!
>>
its about to go down
>>
>>2703155
>Rush as quickly as possible to the source of the problem, you can locally source a weapon.
Actually I like this one better
>>
>>2703167
You patch into the local security, the tool Sil has given you is invaluable. The antiquated camera feed is grainy and low res, blurry lies roll down the feed but you make out a fire fight in the main bay. two massive black spikes have penetrated the forward docking bay door and xenomorphs have spilled out. It will cost human lives, but you consider that you will likely save more lives with your custom weapon than trying to get anything in-situ for combat.

Rushing down the stairs into the command deck proper you see security forces shouldering their pulse rifles, preparing to protect the lab. The lab staff have equipped themselves with an eclectic mix of exotic prototype weapons and a old M38s. One of the younger researchers attempts to pick up the M-6B before getting slapped by a security officer "NOT FOR USE IN ENCLOSED SPACES!"

If you move fast you can catch a high speed elevator down to the main deck, or at a worst case scenario use the cables to rappel down. Another tactical option exists: Take the morgue to the subdeck, either find an obvious entry or weak point to blow through into crew berthing, and then down again into the subdeck to drop into bulk cargo.
----
>Take the lift at low risk but longer time. (1d100)
>Punch through the decks and save time at increased risk (1d100)
>Attempt to hack into the master bay doors and space the xenos before they can get any further. The fact that you can consider this decision means someone has allowed you to make it. Lives may be lost. Fastest. (1d100)
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>2703198
>Punch through the decks and save time at increased risk (1d100)
If we do this can the hole be repaired later? What kind of risks are there? Accidentally maiming someone on the other side?
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>2703198
>>Punch through the decks and save time at increased risk (1d100)
we are the uber synth
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>2703198
>Punch through the decks and save time at increased risk (1d100)
>>
Jesus what's with these low rolls now. Come on I know there's at least one other anon. Where's Cursed?
>>
we need a hero
>>
We need a Warlord.
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>
Rolled 34, 8, 59, 31, 59, 32, 13, 31, 94, 28, 16, 30, 41, 42, 93, 85, 65, 5, 88, 88, 49, 36, 72, 23, 26 = 1148 (25d100)

freakin dice
>>
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>>2703205
>...
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>2703198
>Punch through the decks and save time at increased risk (1d100)
>>
>>2703241
oh, oh no
>>
>>2703241
>>2703247
Was I too late?
>>
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>>2703246
nice save
>>
>>2703246
YES
>>
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>>2703252
.......
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>2703198
>>Punch through the decks and save time at increased risk (1d100)
>>
>>2703258
chick.jpg

this is the end
>>
>>2703246
I am a GM of peace. I reward and punish in equal measure, and all are judged by the same scale. If i take too long to get to a response, the rolls keep coming unless I state otherwise. Also as someone pointed out, how can I resist such a cute roll "83" cyutee numbers are cyute. 83 is locked in.
----
You uncerimounsly stomp on a floor vent in the middle of the hall by the morgue, it gives out causing you to drop down into the subdeck. There are a lot of explosive charges and solid fuel here for the escape pods, so you exercise some intelligence and find another "floor" grate which you stomp on. Falling straight down into Dr. Marcus's room. Curious. A room for a synth. You appreciate it's order and tidy nature. He stares at you, both of you moving in slow motion as you fire a grenade into the bathroom. The shockwave does little more than buffet you as the other synth is blown backwards into the wall. You jump down again, expending another grenade into the subdeck.

>-2 grenades. 8/10 available.

Below you is the bay. You could just drop onto the caged ceiling of the training area, or directly drop to where the fighting is. (look at the map to get an idea of the drop height.)
----

Pick one
>Small drop (no roll required)
>Kowabunga dude. (roll an additional 1d100) gain +20 on your attack roll.

Pick one
>attempt to pick off the xenomorphs you can see from here: Burst fire
>attempt to pick off the xenomorphs you can see from here: Grenades
>attempt to pick off the xenomorphs you can see from here: Laser
(roll me a 1d100)
>>
Rolled 57, 56 = 113 (2d100)

>>2703290
>>Kowabunga dude. (roll an additional 1d100) gain +20 on your attack roll.
>>attempt to pick off the xenomorphs you can see from here: Burst fire
live fast die hard

>>/BANTZ/
>>
Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>2703290
>Small drop
>burst fire

Start shooting as soon as possible and begin the killing
>>
Rolled 9, 19 + 20 = 48 (2d100 + 20)

>>2703290
>Kowabunga dude. (roll an additional 1d100) gain +20 on your attack roll.

>attempt to pick off the xenomorphs you can see from here: Burst fire
>>
Rolled 82, 68 = 150 (2d100)

>>2703290
>Kowabunga dude. (roll an additional 1d100) gain +20 on your attack roll
>burst fire
>>
>>2703316
Well fuck my rolls. Maybe I should stop Rolling.
Not to self fix Marcus's bathroom.
>>
>>2703318
don't forget the >>/BANTZ/
>>
>>2703309
https://youtu.be/A1PAO3jgmXY
Is this Bantz?
>>
>>2703322
/BANTZ/ should be a default state by now
>>
I hope the research teams have some basic sprays to deal with the acidic blood.
>>
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>These rolls
>MFW
Carnage and destruction in equal measure
>>
>>2703318
>82, 68+20=88, Kowabunga indeed.
---
Dropping like the very angry rock, you spray the invaders with a long burst of your rifle, sweeping across them with a jeweler's precision. Red tracer rounds highlight the ribbon of violence as a half dozen xenomorphs splatter and shred. A large warrior with a strange bladed hand shrieks at the hunkered down marines, preparing to charge. Your fall is cushioned by it's skull. Wet acidic blood sizzles at the metal soles of your boots, and eats into the grating of the loading bay. This one is well and truly dead.

-The Macerator: Custom rifle-
850/1000 10x24 caseless (Standard loadout)
8/10 grenades (all HESH)
4 liters of flame fuel (Standard)
3 charges of laser
8 rounds of 12ga shotshell (Standard)

Big fucking knife
∞/ ∞ stabs

Grappling hook: good to go.
------
Despite your assault, the enemies are many. This was not a scouting force but a highly organic invasion force. Behind you a trio of warrior class xenomorphs are coralling some greener marines into a corner, oblivious of the lurking drones above them. On the second story, more warriors and very small creatures crawl towards the training area where Dardrick and the mercs are. Ahead of you another spike slams into the main door, atmosphere venting out into space before rather ancient emergency foam oozes out of the metal and seals the breech. Another group of marines armed with grenade launchers and pulse rifles stands at the ready.
"MULTI DECK BREACH. MULTI DECK BREACH." Things are not going well.
---
>Shoot the warriors
>Shoot the drones
>Deal with the new spike
>shoot at the climbers
or
>Deploy the spider! (1d100)

List the sequence of events you want to take, and roll a corrosponding number of 1d100s, each additional action penalizes all rolls by 5. the beat rolls only count if you are enacting multi rolls.
>>
>>2703434
>Shoot the drones
can't let the recruits die

>Shoot the warriors
then handle the warriors

then
>shoot at the climbers

finally
>Deal with the new spike
>>
Rolled 56, 75 - 10 = 121 (2d100 - 10)

>>2703434

>Shoot the warriors, Deploy the spider!

Hope I got dice right
>>
Rolled 76, 5, 64, 37, 81 = 263 (5d100)

>>2703434
>Other.
>Spin to win.
>SHOOT. EVERYTHING.
>>
Rolled 15, 53, 8, 68 = 144 (4d100)

>>2703449
missed the rolls
>>
>>2703460
fuck
>>
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Rolled 32, 24, 8, 100, 73 = 237 (5d100)

>>2703434
Wish I knew if the grappling hook as acid proof or not.

>Behind you a trio of warrior class xenomorphs are coralling some greener marines into a corner, oblivious of the lurking drones above them.
Slasher warriors.
These guys look like they need our help the most. Let's start with the warriors, then the drones.

>On the second story, more warriors and very small creatures crawl towards the training area where Dardrick and the mercs are.
We can help them on the second turn. The mercs aren't green horns and Dardrick is a tough bastard.

>Ahead of you another spike slams into the main door, atmosphere venting out into space before rather ancient emergency foam oozes out of the metal and seals the breech.
>Another group of marines armed with grenade launchers and pulse rifles stands at the ready.
Do orders and suggestions give penalties? Because these marines should be opening up on those spikes with grenade and pulse fire at the slightest sign of the thing opening up. So I guess they can deal with the spikes or help us.


So all in all rolling for the first two.

>>2703458
>Other.
>Spin to win.
>SHOOT. EVERYTHING.
....
FUCK IT
BLOOD AND GUTS!!
>>
File: 1456630081609.gif (176 KB, 333x286)
176 KB
176 KB GIF
>100
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zZMg9ryeWOw
Purge all xenos!
>>
Rolled 19, 10, 84, 13, 35 = 161 (5d100)

>>2703434
Shoot the warriors
>Shoot the drones
>Deal with the new spike
>shoot at the climbers
or
>Deploy the spider! (1d100
>>
>>2703467
Unload everything we have
>>
>Shoot the warriors
o/v270Aq 51
sBLZ14lO 56
hxrdtx4N 38
yBE0wbh/ 12
c7LhRmQL -1

>Shoot the drones
sBLZ14lO -15
hxrdtx4N 0
yBE0wbh/ 4
c7LhRmQL -10

>Deal with the new spike
sBLZ14lO 44
hxrdtx4N 53
yBE0wbh/ -12
c7LhRmQL 64

>shoot at the climbers
sBLZ14lO 17
hxrdtx4N -7
yBE0wbh/ 80 (but it's a crit)
c7LhRmQL -7

>Deploy the spider! (1d100)
o/v270Aq 70
sBLZ14lO 61
yBE0wbh/ 53
c7LhRmQL 15
>>
Who else want's a wack at this -20 mod clusterfuck?
>>
>>2703509
rip crew

tip us

>>2703515
how about we just shoot the drones?
>>
Rolled 19, 66, 82, 22, 42 = 231 (5d100)

>>2703509
>>2703515
I don't know what I'm looking at, but sure.
>>2703467
+1
>>
>Shoot the warriors
o/v270Aq 51
sBLZ14lO [[56]]
hxrdtx4N 38
yBE0wbh/ 12
c7LhRmQL -1
9DkoIAe7 -1

>Shoot the drones
sBLZ14lO -15
hxrdtx4N 0
yBE0wbh/ 4
c7LhRmQL -10
9DkoIAe7 [[46]]

>Deal with the new spike
sBLZ14lO 44
hxrdtx4N 53
yBE0wbh/ -12
c7LhRmQL [[64]]
9DkoIAe7 62

>shoot at the climbers
sBLZ14lO 17
hxrdtx4N -7
yBE0wbh/ [[80]] (but it's a crit)
c7LhRmQL -7
9DkoIAe7 2

>Deploy the spider! (1d100)
o/v270Aq [[70]]
sBLZ14lO 61
yBE0wbh/ 53
c7LhRmQL 15
9DkoIAe7 22
>>
>>2703520
>How about we just shoot the drones

BELAY THAT COWARDICE MATEY. EVERYTHING THAT IS NOT SQUISHY PINK HUMAN OR SYNTH MUST DIE A HORRIBLE DEATH VIA THE AIR AROUND THEM BEING REPLACED WITH BULLETS, FIRE, GRENADES, LASERS AND CHEST HAIR
>>
Rolled 8, 75, 45, 3, 1 = 132 (5d100)

>>2703450
>>2703434
>>2703526
>>2703458

Fuck it. Changing to SPIN TO WIN SHOOT EVERYTHING
>>
>>2703534
1...well then
>>
Btw, as XenoQuest original Qm, just a tasty tidbit. If these boarding spikes are hitting us, that means we are in range of either a Xeno Ship, a converted space station or the Carbuncle itself. Ive no idea what Nongent has planned for the Xeno Heavy Weapons but it would be a very good idea to get away from anything near the hull

My buttocks are prepared
>>
>"Is in't their music exotic? The transformation process when forced is one of the few things that elicits a visible pain stimulus from the creatures. So fascinating."
Could playing back the music be a way to deal with the spikes?

>>2703534
>1
Not sure if the last two dice can be accepted, if we're just adding more action dice to your choice? I hope we don't have to accept the 1.
Whatever the case might be I think the spider might tell us to fuck off or something equally as funny.
>>
>>2703538

let me get a link to original xenoquest
>>
>>2703458
>>2703467
undefined action: Creativity. <i'll allow it this time>
76,24,64,100,81
---
Embracing a total lack of precision you correct this with volume of fire over accuracy. All remaining grenades are fired into the opening boarding spike, splattering it's contents. Even as a river of acid and mushed gore spills out onto the deck you are spinning in place firing Your laser in a sweeping arc, all 3 charges spent on a continuous beam that washes over the drones. 2 of them fall neatly in half like open faced sandwiches, hitting the deck with a meaty thud. The warriors get vicious lacerations (get it?), that spew pressurized blood and buy the young marines time to focus fire with their pulse rifles. A combination of buckshot and stream of pulse rifle ammo pelts the climbers, sending one falling over the edge. A claw from one of the finished ugly units hauls a wounded xenomorph up off the edge before throwing it back down, you catch it with a whiff of of the flamer, the burning corpse writhing before it ceases to move. The acrid stech of burned xeno fills the area.
Your total lack of restraint for firing discipline serves as a role model for the other marines. As if driven by a hive mind a historic recreation of the Vietnam era plays out. The "mad minute", Marines scream, let loose with full-auto, gore splatters the walls and explosions are let loose. All across the comms there are dead and dying, the ship is still under attack but the battle for the forward cargo-bay has been won.
---
The combat to the rear of the ship is not going so well. Both command and primary drive modules are under siege. Numerous bugs are swarming through the engines and systems wrecking untold havoc. Shipboard weapons are fully offline. Tactical decisions need to be made. The drive is reporting overwhelming forces of xenos, possibly hundreds. The command module reports significantly less. You can only be in one place at a time. The rest of the crew knows what to do.
---
>Abandon and eject and blow the drive module: 1d100 (grants +50 for your action roll)
-gets rid of the much harder fight, review the map for what you will loose to include crew and equipment.
>Abandon and eject the command module: 1d100 (Grants +10 for your action roll)
-creates a major choke point for the enemy of which they are at a disadvantage, review the map for what you will loose to include crew and equipment. possibility of module recovery.

Next; where to?

> Command only: 1d100
> Drive only: 1d100
>Risk it and attempt to save both: Go to the command module: 2d100 (-40 penalty on the second roll)
>Risk it and attempt to save both: Go to the Drive: 2d100 (-20 penalty on the second roll)

optional choices. If the module they are in fails, they are lost. 1d100 for each.

Deploy the spider: drive+10/ cmd.+5
Send out the unfinished Ulysses Uglies to the drive: +10
Send all combat forces from the forward bay to: Both +5/ drive+10/ cmd+20

no write-in, the first 4 rolls only.
>>
Rolled 70, 43 = 113 (2d100)

>>2703558
>Risk it and attempt to save both: Go to the Drive: 2d100 (-20 penalty on the second roll)

no man left behind marine
>>
Rolled 7, 53 = 60 (2d100)

>>2703558
So the Drive is what give the ship thrust and FTL, while the Command Module controls the Shipboard weapons?

Maybe if we secure the Shipboard weapons, that'll make everyone's life easier.

>Risk it and attempt to save both: Go to the Drive: 2d100 (-20 penalty on the second roll)

Deploy the spider: cmd.+5
Send out the unfinished Ulysses Uglies to the drive: +10
Send all combat forces from the forward bay to: cmd+20
>>
Rolled 52, 6 = 58 (2d100)

>>2703558
--
>Abandon and eject and blow the drive module: 1d100 (grants +50 for your action roll)


> Command only: 1d100
>>
>>2703568
+1. What rolls do we need?
>>2703558
>Deploy the spider: drive+10/ cmd.+5
Drive.
>Send out the unfinished Ulysses Uglies to the drive: +10
>Send all combat forces from the forward bay to: Both +5/ drive+10/ cmd+20
Cmd. Biggest bonus.
>>
Rolled 21, 74 = 95 (2d100)

>>2703585
And I got the wrong field.
>>
>>2703585
next roll decides it boys
>>
>>2703585
just 2d100 and apply the modifiers with risk of losing them depending on success or failure.
>>
>>2703586
>>2703568
YES
>>
>Risk it and attempt to save both: Go to the Drive: 2d100 (-20 penalty on the second roll) (3 votes)

>>Drive
hxrdtx4N 70
yBE0wbh/ 17 (Uglies)
9DkoIAe7 31 (Uglies)

>>CMD
hxrdtx4N 23 (do you want to apply mods?)
yBE0wbh/ 58 (forces+spider)
9DkoIAe7 79 (forces+spider)

-

>Abandon and eject and blow the drive module: 1d100 (grants +50 for your action roll) (1 vote)
c7LhRmQL 52

> Command only: 1d100
c7LhRmQL 56
>>
>>2703598
yes on cmc
>>
>>2703602
what about the uglies?
>>
its a good day to die
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4G9MU4wvTo
>>
Rolled 33, 27 = 60 (2d100)

>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XT0l1ie3tN8
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btyxW8LRKn0
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RcVzevWX4U
>>
>>2703633
oh come on. we're not at that level yet. close but not quite there.
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jAcgkMsI-Hc
>>
highest rolls: 70, 74-20=54
---------
70+uglies 10+spider 10= 80 on the drive module
54+combat forces 20= 74 on the cmd module
---------
To the drive, you are sending 1 spider which has an advantage in the numerous sprawling passageways and tight spaces, as well as recently refurbished equipment manufactured in 2030 making it pretty damn close to 400 years old. You will be leading the shitshow that is this charge.

To the command module, in which you hope to save your leadership, you are sending a bunch of half frozen marines, and some drunk, tweaked out Australian mercenaries.
----
Before I begin, do I have the numbers right, are the bonuses correctly applied?
>>
>>2703685
Looks good to me.
>>
>>2703685
yeah
>>
>>2703685
Yes.
>>
>>2703688
>>2703690
Awesome.
---
Dr. Margret held the line the best she could while Marcus worked a terminal frantically. The entire ship was under assault, things were exploding, and they were drifting blind and disabled due to whatever these aberrant xenomorphs were doing within the engines. It was small wonder the artificial gravity hadn't been killed yet.
>"Marge, do you have anything positive yet?" Marcus was entirely calm about the situation, a face of recent scars already fading.
"Marc...please know that much like bedroom activity, I WILL FUCKING LET YOU KNOW WHEN I GET THERE." The female doctor was significantly less pleased. "They have disabled nearly everything. Our motion sensors are still picking up external activity on the hull. They are fucking space walking Marc. They are having a merry little jaunt on the outside of our shitheap."
>"hmm yes. That is very distressing. We could discharge the comms arrays. We'd loose the systems, but it would rectify the problem. Though we'd still be blind..."
"no. no you cocky white blooded fuck. What else are you thinking?"
>"We could also do a blind run...space isss mostly empty afterall." he smirked and she scowled. "What? It would get us away from whatever is tearing the ship apart. Am I right?"
"Somewhat right...Orrr we play it safe and use the motion detectors to try and murder our little visitors."
>"That would be nice as well."
"Ugh...I forgot about him; Butch. Where the hell is he?"
>"last I tracked him...forward weapons. He seems to be leading...the Janitors and...the Yautja"
"Oh dear lord."
----
>Fry the comms (kill everything outside the ship, possibly ruin other systems, and momentarily stun whatever the other vessel is)
>Blind run (roll a natural 1 and the quest is over. Otherwise, it just gets better from there right?)
>Kill by motion (safe bet, you will likely preserve your systems, but cause survivors to rush inside.)
pick 1, roll 1d100
---
Roll another 1d100+50 for butch to restore forward weapons. He is pretty dependable.
>>
Rolled 76, 75 + 50 = 201 (2d100 + 50)

>>2703715
>Kill by motion (safe bet, you will likely preserve your systems, but cause survivors to rush inside.)
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>2703715
>>Kill by motion (safe bet, you will likely preserve your systems, but cause survivors to rush inside.)
>>
Rolled 71 + 50 (1d100 + 50)

>>2703715
>>Kill by motion (safe bet, you will likely preserve your systems, but cause survivors to rush inside.)
>>
Rolled 33, 96 + 50 = 179 (2d100 + 50)

>>2703715
>Kill by motion
>>
Rolled 5, 30 + 50 = 85 (2d100 + 50)

>>2703715
Kill by motion, we can’t take the risk here
>>
>>2703717
>>2703742

>76
In the void, warrior aliens dance in the void. Biomechanical mobility devices vet puffs of plasma to guide them as they skim across the ship's superstructure. Highly specialized creatures, the space warriors are focused on ranged attacks. Inbuilt spine cannons carefully shred the various sensor clusters festooned across the body of the ship. What they missed were countless low tech puck sized objects magnetically clamped to the hull.

The brief fight is furious but mute. Autoturrets flip out from their housing and coldly pivot and unleash a deluge of fire meant to preform the anti munition CWIS role. Shredded bodies float into the abyss as their companions seek to avenge their death. Soundless explosions ripple across the hull as turrets are destroyed, leaving ugly craters on an ugly ship. Micro missiles spew out of pockmarked launch panels to wreak suicidal vengeance on the intruders who would harm their home. As quickly as it had began, it is over. Shrapnel and mangled corpses dance in a frozen ballet as the bulk of the defense system returns to standby.

>96+50=146
Butch laughs as all 7 feet and 1 inches of him unleashes weaponized cryogenic fluid from a prototype research division weapon. "Hahaha!." Behind him the blue skinned Joes use machine pistols to snap off marksman worthy shots under the wireless leadership of Butch. Frozen aliens shatter in their wake while a rather small predator; until recently unblooded, fights alongside the towering combat synth. an explosive collar rings it's neck and explains the reasonable compliance. Plasma fire and smart fire quickly cut down the fleeing gremlins and their support of builders. Decloaking the Yautja looks to Butch. "Yes that was good! Try not to loose your head though!" Somehow no munitions or fuel cells were hit. Either testament to Butche's skill or luck. A single gremlin struggles violently in a pred-net while a leering synth holds up the muzzle of a freeze thrower at it. "Hello...it is ice to meet you."
>>
>>2703759
Can we romance butch
>>
>>2703759
Captain Dominguez looked at his command display. While sensors would not display a damn thing, his own eyes saw a hideous mix of liquefied steel and xenomorph resin, festooned with strange structures. No doubt weapons. They were not prepared for this level of electronic warfare from the enemy, and it had cost them. Already the ship is coming around to bear down once more. There are vague markings indicating the wretched thing was once a USCMC vessel. once. Sickly green puffs of bluish green plasma flicker out of numerous maneuvering ports as it beings to line up.

"Captain. Someone up front likes us." a fresh faced gunnery officer looked up at him from his console. Red tactical lighting only served to highlight the worry on his face. "We have forward weapons. No sensors. No engines."
"L.T. someone up high likes us." He thumbed the cross in his pocket. The beating on the blast door was getting louder, and it wasn't likely to hold much longer. 2 feet of hardened alloy, but still slowly deforming. "dios mío.." the head of a xenomorph slowly crept into view of the main viewscreen, but kept on going, clearly separated from it's body.
"Cap'n. Knife fighting range! Whad'ya want?!" an older grunt shouted, the targeting system resting on his shoulders as he looked through an archaic scope.
The entire ship room rocked as another spike just missed the primary command deck.
"We need to get this thing off us. Now."
------
pick 1 and roll 1d100, best of the first 3.
Tactical nuke volley- high risk high reward. fires 3 grapefruit sized nukes across the void at from one moving object to another moving object. easy right?
Overcharged laser- you only get one shot of this before it breaks the weapon, but it's a doozy if it hits right.
Railgun turrets- Tried and true. The low risk approach.
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>2703775
Overcharged laser- you only get one shot of this before it breaks the weapon, but it's a doozy if it hits right.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>2703775
>Tactical nuke volley- high risk high reward. fires 3 grapefruit sized nukes across the void at from one moving object to another moving object. easy right?

fortune favors the brave!
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>2703777
Supporting
>>
>>2703777
Saying a small prayer Captain Dominguez gave the order to fire the laser. Supernova blue momentarily lit up the void, and melted the laser emitter. Eyes still recovering from the flash, the crew saw the alien vessel drifting along, its rear carved off on an angle as if by a giant knife. both halves lazily spinning, obvious fires and small explosions rippled across the rear half before it detonated and sent the fore section careening into oblivion. Desperate puffs of charged plasma worked valiantly but would likely not see the stricken vessel recover stability.
Most of the crew collectively slumped in their seats, their part done. Now it was up to the grunts.
----
>>2703685
Dull thumps could be heard outside. Space does not thump. There was combat going on everywhere.
>"Stand back." you deliver a kick to yet another bulkhead door. It sheers off of it's hinges and hits the floor. This time there is no Xeno behind it. They seem to learn fast.
The marines following you still in disbelief at your door kicking skills. "Dudes a rock hard pipe hitter." "nah man. Hes like a machine." "...he is a machine dumbass." "Thats what I said, Manny!"
Their intelectual debate on your nature is cut off by archaic music of the ancient Caucasus region.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16G-Hv23nqw
Several small missiles fly past you and the fire team, and take a hard turn down a hallway. Explosions ask a question answered by death screams. The spider wastes no time with you or anyone else, and rips off a vent to crawl up and away, the music following it fading into the din of battle. "I hate that thing." a larger man looks at the two marines "What? Spider is good." "Vlad, if that spider was a fucking Xeno as long as it flew anything slav you'd like it." "Slav xeno would not be attacking us. You prove my point to your intellectual failings" the commentary is cut off shortly as a volly of small spines embed into his face, the slumping corpse's head dissolving quickly. "VLAD!"

The marines begin to fire with reckless abandon. You keep in loose radio connection with the other team holding off the hostiles at the command module. The fighting has been hard going, and not aided by the ZeroG warriors with their long range spine drivers. Taking stock of the entire situation as it unfolds, your augmented vision absorbs and processes everything in a single sweep of your head as you peek over cover.

The uglies took a lower route than you that was permissive of their bulk. Significantly less remain than what you started with, liekly lost along the way in ambushes. Single file, unsupported, CQC is not their strong point. The surviving machines and their operators are in a pitched melee on the deck below you. Warriors are pinning the marines down as the gremlins are working to permanently cripple the drive. Vicious sprays of sparks and steam roil through the drive's spherical housing.

>They aren't trying to win this, they are just trying to keep the ship dead.
>>
>>2703796
You ponder what the best weapon to use is when a leaping creature, resembling an unarmored adolescent child, if it was a nightmare made of xeno flesh and teeth lunges at you from above. Automatic reaction dictates flame; the creature plummets off the railing's edge down to the bottom of the drive chamber. Flame it is. The spider was busy killing gremlins, and the xenos seem to be repositioning to get a solid bead on your team's location. Something has to change. you launch yourself over the edge in the middle of heavy fire.
----
Roll 2d100, 1st for your evasion, the second for your attack. Best of the first 4, no mix and match.
>Flame.
>Shotgun.
>Burst fire.
>>
Rolled 88, 52 = 140 (2d100)

>>2703802
>>Flame.
>>
Rolled 63, 11 = 74 (2d100)

>>2703802
>Flame
>>
Rolled 68, 8 = 76 (2d100)

>>2703802
>Flame
Burn it all.
>>
Rolled 5, 36 = 41 (2d100)

>>2703802
>Flame
Char grilled Xeno coming right up
Also /Bantz/
>>
>>2703805
You're role in this has become less of a solider and more of a siege engine. Where the fighting is thickest you inevitably are. The gravity inside the core is unstable, and markedly lower than the rest of the ship if your sensors are correct. The question is quickly confirmed as you wash the xeno's in a bath of flame. Instead of falling ,it rolls forward like a tide. Not enough to kill them, but enough to cause the intelligent creatures to break rank and scatter. Death by flame is near universally found to be undesirable.

Sparing a glance down the Uglies continue to put up a vallaint fight, but are down to just a dozen of the ancient machines still moving. Their pilots were those too infirm or injured to fight on foot, but here they are. You respect their desire for duty even in a degraded state. Execution of function, there is no higher calling you have found thus far.

Your fire team is taking free shots at the scattered xenos now, but its unlikely they are capable of terminating all of them. Checking the PDT you determine the spider has made it's way to the command module, this is validated by Russian swearing.
---
>Protect the uglies,their value has not yet been recognized.
>Continue clearing out the real threat, the Uglies serve an important function.
>>
>>2703818
>>Protect the uglies, their value has not yet been recognized.
we take care of our own
>>
>>2703818
>Protect the uglies,their value has not yet been recognized
The less casualties the better
>>
>>2703818
>Protect the uglies,their value has not yet been recognized.
>>
>>2703822
>First choice locked in.
---
The drive can be restored. human life cannot. at least not without significant investment, and morally ambiguous scientists. Aligning yourself upside down, you push off from the drive unit towards the melee below. You snap off several long bursts with your primary weapon before it is depleted. Glossly black skulls splinter under precision automatic fire until the weapon counter reads 0/1000. Your work has not only given the remaining uglies a chance to withdraw, but drawn the ire of the surviving xenos.

remaining ammo:

4 shotgun rounds/ 8
.5 liters of flamer fuel

Roll 4d100
You- You melee- The uglies- Your troops.

First roll is the only roll.
>>
Rolled 30, 51, 57, 86 = 224 (4d100)

>>2703826
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
>>
>>2703827
Least the troops will be ok
>>
Rolled 11, 82, 14, 56 = 163 (4d100)

>>2703826
>>
>>2703827
Within the first second of combat 4 rounds of buckshot find their way into a drone's head, finished off with the last of the flamer's fuel. Dropping your gun and switching to melee, you grab your combat knife. A particularly thick hided and large warrior picks you up like a rag doll. A tail meant to rip your head off is caught by a very large blade. "No Ta." you twist it as the creature brings you in for the head bite, it's inner jaws extending and ready.

The killing blow never comes. Small scale power lifters and shears clip away at the monster's legs, bringing it low. It's enough that you can try to struggle from it's grip while it slaughters a few more of the canned soldiers with a free arm. No joy; reinforced ribs begin to give way under immense pressure.

*FWOMP* A beam of orange plasma sears a hole into the tyrant's crested head. the strange sound is heard over and over, flaming remains of xeno rain down on you and the rest of the crew.

Dardrick looks over the rail, down at you. "Not cleaning any more shit up mate. Thats you. Hurt my back lugging these things all the way across the bloody ship." He is clearly missing a leg, and 3 mercs are lugging the Pigs. "Fuck. Oh, mate. Call the rev, can't handle the pain. Think I'm gonna die."
>"Identify the injury" you have basic anatomical training. Your methods might not be pleasant but he will survive.
"Ah fuck..oh" he sucks in air between his teeth "Ah. The pain is right ere in me fookin arse, its...ah..its shaped like you. Ya fucking chode!"
PDT reports are coming in that the assualt has been repelled, and losses..were pretty heavy.
You look up at Dardrick and the laughing mercs, and give him the finger.
---End of Tutorial---
>>
>>2703836
So when’s the next thread?
>>
>>2703836
Alright, this was meant to be a one shot but you guys won the happy ending, all the way to saving every module of the ship and named characters. Seems like in the future, we will have to revisit the crew of the Kugelblitz and our nameless hero. Thanks for playing.

Feel free to leave commentary, i'll read it.
>>
very enjoyable quest
>>
Kekworthy and fun as hell, can’t wait to see the next iteration
>>
>>2703845
I'm awake and a little disappointed I missed out.
>>
>>2703845
Will the thread be archived?
>>
>>2703845
10/10 i would play again
Hope we can come back to this people
>>
>>2703974
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2685885/
>>
>>2703845
This quest sounds like we're playing on very hard mode. Great to see what the characters make of it. Their own little slice of life within a grimdark hellhole.

>>2703855
>>2704034
>>2703850
>>2703968
Indeed.




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