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/tg/ - Traditional Games


Last Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/43846241/

"Rules": http://pastebin.com/JuTyfdDr

Last time on Heritage Ship Quest, our bold captain Solomon the Ceph discovered a love for Corvid techno, dusted off his old plasma shotgun, and found out his new engineer is a little racist. But who isn’t?

Later, he spent some quality beer time with Deg, where we learned a little bit about the history of the Hot Needle. Our current destination is the far flung system of Kerls, on the edge of some dicey space centred on the backwater of Freerock.

The adventure continues…

______________________________

A low tremor rumbles through your body, jolting you to a slow wakefulness. Empty beer cans float across the dim, gravity-less room; they glint eerily in the mottled blue and green lowlight. As you gather your senses, the ship’s intercom comes crackling,

“Rise and shine beauties, time to put your shoes on!”

You grumble: Deg’s “endearing” antics are far from the first thing you want to hear this early in the morning. Weariness draining out of your body with each movement, you slide into your exosuit, stretching and morphing into its humanoid shape as its pneumatic seals hiss shut.

Heavy steps echo throughout the hallway as you once again make your way towards the cockpit; the remainder of the five day voyage out to Kerls passed uneventfully: minor maintenance, casual drinking, and cards helped to speed the passage of time, but you are glad to be at your destination.
>>
Cockpit door already ajar, Deg sits in the pilot’s seat with his feet up, one hand clutching a cup of coffee and the other one of his strange Felinid “cigarettes.”

“Good morning cap, get enough beauty rest? Man knows you need it.”

You huff in his general direction, making your way towards the minifridge,

“I really need to disconnect the intercom, maybe then I can get some decent sleep.”

You sit down next to him, cracking the eye-wateringly coloured can of Instanergy.

“Is that it?” you gesture out of the viewport towards the grey blot that grows faster and faster before you.

“Sure is cap, Kerls 2. Boringest, greyest rock this side of Constantinople.”
You pour some of the noxious, fluorescent green liquid into your grille, instantly feeling the electric buzz go to work at waking up your brain.

“It better not be. I didn’t schlep halfway across the galaxy for boring and grey.”

If what Deg’s contact said about the relic was true, this whole trip would be the best investment you’ve made in a while.

Just then, the ship’s computer pings; a priority transmission. You hit “Accept Call” on the screen, and the strange warbling, clicking Cetacean dialect of Prime comes through:

“Unidentified spacecraft, you are entering secure space under the sovereignty of the Cetacean Republic. Please identify immediately or turn back.”

>Tell the truth
>Bluff
>Get Deg to handle it
>>
>>43897056
We are tired and still a bit hungover. Just tell the truth.
>>
>>43897056
>>Get Deg to handle it
>>
>>43897056
>Get Deg to handle it

Are the cetes particularly territorial? Character/player knowledge conflict. Let Deg handle it, but be ready to step in if he wishes off or something.
>>
Sidenote while things get going:

Sorry for no thread yesterday, I was hungover until like 9pm my time and cashed out at 10.

New Twitter is @Friendo_QM, which for some reason I can only log into on mobile.

Good news, I have a computer again!

>>43897355
Pretty much. Better crack out the space bananas and space powerade.

>>43897411
They can get pretty prickly over territory yes, but they won't willy nilly shoot people down without fair warning.
>>
>>43897383
>>43897411
Writing up a response now.
>>
>>43897478
>hungover until like 9pm
Been there. And you're a madman on a phone. Think nothing of it.
>>
>>43897056
>Bluff

Let us in, we have beer.
>>
You glance over to Deg and he simply nods, leaning in towards the mic.

"This is Degivilas of the good ship Hot Needle of Inquiry, requesting docking permission at Kerls 3 Mining Outpost 1. Here on diplomatic business with Administrator Smithe."

Deg leans back and takes a sip of his coffee, stretching lazily in his seat.

"One moment, connecting you to Administration."

You look over again to Deg,

"You're sure your contact is reliable?"

"Captain, you worry any more and you're going to have a heart attack. That would leave you with what, two? I got this, relax."

A few tense moments of radio silence pass, broken finally by the return of the Cetacean air controller's clicking lilt.

"Spacecraft 'Hot Needle of Inquiry,' you are cleared for docking at Bay 4. Be advised, there are reports of pirate activity in nearby systems. Sending you coordinates now."

A string of numbers appear on the screen, which you swiftly enter into the navigator before closing the call. A tension you didn't notice until now relaxes its grip on your hearts.

"See cap?" Deg says as he waves his cigarette triumphantly, "Winston's a straight guy. Kinda. He won't sell us out unless the monesy is *really* good."

You simply sigh and start for the aft of the ship; if there are pirates about, you don't want get caught planetside with your pants around your ankles and nary a butter knife to defend yourself.

"Deg, make sure you keep the fire control systems hot, better safe than vapor," you call over your shoulder as you head down the hallway.

"You can turn them off?" he shouts after you, music already starting to blast.
>>
>>43897986
You gather up a few items from your quarters, namely your utility belt, snubnosed pistol, and shotgun, which you sling over your back.

As you make your way to the gangplank in anticipation of landing, you're stopped by Mara, who snaps to her bizarre salute as you pass. You stifle a laugh at the awkward avian.

"Captain, may I make a request?" she squawks, still holding the salute.

"Uh, at ease?" What now, you wonder?

"What is it?"

The Corvid clears her throat, an almost songlike, if phlegmy affair. She pipes up with less than absolute confidence,

"I would like to request that I join you and First Mate Degivilas on the shore party, sir."

>I would expect no less!
>Just try not to get in the way, okay?
>You should stay on the ship.
>Stop with the formalities.
>>
Also, I'd just like to say thanks to based Indonesian Gentleman for the drawing in the OP.

I can't into drawfagging at all.
>>
>>43898160
>>Just try not to get in the way, okay?
>>
>>43898160
>I would expect no less!

Insist that she call us Glorious Leader instead of Captain.
>>
>>43898160

>I would expect no less!
>>
>>43898160
>>Stop with the formalities. Now get your stuff and come on.
>>
Writing now.
>>
"I would expect no less!" you reply, "you're part of the crew now, that means you share in the duties. If that weren't the case, Deg would just sit on the ship smoking and throwing darts for all of our missions. Now come on, grab your stuff and get ready to go planetside. And try to quit it with the formalities okay?"

Mara half-way salutes, but stops halfway through in favour of a nod before shuffling off to her quarters.

Looking out the side viewport, the grey, rough surface of Kerls 2 rapidly approaches, and the ship below your feet picks its way through a tangle of yellow girder-like structures that you recognize as a mag-field air lock. The ship touches down, followed by the hum of the engines dying down. You're shortly joined by Deg and Mara, both carrying small packs over their clothes.

"Decided to come along hotshot?" Deg playfully jabs at Mara. She shifts weight from wing to wing, unsure of how to respond.

You shake your head and hit the loading platform release; the gangplank lowers with a pneumatic hiss, and the three of you stride out onto a simple concrete platform leading to a large but simple looking building complex of metallo-plast, concrete, and yellow mag-field framing. Around you, the barren surface stretches out to the horizon, its cold countenance continued by the inky blackness of space beyond.

Partway down the landing platform, a Cetacean in a simple but official looking white uniform stands waiting. He waves over to you, keeping pace with you as you reach him, leading you towards a door at the end of the platform.

"You must be Captain Solomon," he extends a hand to shake, "Degivilas tells me you are of a trustworthy sort, for what his word is worth. I am Winston Smithe, administrator of this facility."

You hasten, the cold of space scarcely kept out by the airlock, and return the shake.

"Pleased to meet you Administrator Smithe, I imagine you know why we're here?"
>>
>>43898825
The door hisses open automatically as you approach it.

"Of course," he says, ushering you inside. The interior of the complex is white and sterile, though somehow also soothing on the eyes. Winston already begins to lead you down a hall, stopping shortly after arriving at an elevator.

"You're here for the relic, I knew that someone of your persuasion would be interested in such a find. It's not often one finds something of this nature, especially on such a far flung exoplanet, but I digress," he explains as you shoot upwards in the elevator.

The door hisses open, opening into an elegant but simple office. Winstons starts toward a desk, and motions for the three of you to sit.

"Now," he says, folding his flipperlike hands on the white desk, "to discuss the monetary terms of this arrangement. I expect no less than thirty percent of the relic's value upon sale, payed in Republic Dollars."

>What? That's outrageous!
>That sounds agreeable.
>Intimidate him (1d10+1)
>Bargain (1d10)
>>
>That sound agreeable.
We don't want to take any chances with a contact we don't personally know, much less a cetacean with their red tape.
>>
Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>43898973
>Bargain

"Not good with 20%? If this payday is as big as it sounds, that's still a real nice chunk of change for you. Besides, we'd be the ones risking our necks."

Just feeling him out- if he says no, we're fine with 30%. Never settle from word go.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>43899158
GODDAMNIT I MESSED UP THE ROLL I HATE MYSELF.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>43898973

>Bargain (1d10)
>>
>>43899182
SHIT TYRONE GET IT TOGETHER

Writing for bargain!
>>
>Success

"Not good with 20%? If this payday is as big as it sounds, that's still a real nice chunk of change for you. Besides, we'd be the ones risking our necks."

You know Cetaceans always start out highballing, it's their way of saying that they're not fooling around.

"If you insist, twenty percent it will be," he sighs with a degree of resignation. Even ten percent on this deal would be well worth anyone's time. He withdraws two small data sticks from his desk, handing one over to you.

"On there, you will find everything you need to locate the relic: coordinates, energy readouts, satellite photographs of the site."

"Thanks, Winny old boy," Deg says as you accept the stick, "you never fail to amaze."

As he tucks the other stick into his pocket, he reassures you, "for safekeeping. Two is one and one is none, and all that. Besides, when you're done with your "archaeology," who knows what other value that site might hold for academics."

He stands up to shake your hand once more,

"I trust that concludes our business here for now? I suggest haste, this kind of find rarely goes unnoticed for long, it seems."

>Thanks again, we'll let you know when we've got the relic.
>Your air traffic controller mentioned something about pirates?
>Any other advice?
>I don't feel comfortable knowing that you still have the coordinates.
>>
>>43899536
>Thanks again, we'll let you know when we've got the relic.
>Your air traffic controller mentioned something about pirates?
Their general location? Might take an alternative route due to them.
>>
>Thanks again, we'll let you know when we've got the relic.
>Your air traffic controller mentioned something about pirates?
We should ask about the pirates, and gun it to the site, bureaucrats and pirates means there might be an underhand trade going on, and he might be looking to screw us. I smell a rather obvious plot brewing, better safe than vapor.
>>
>>43899536
>>Thanks again, we'll let you know when we've got the relic.
>>Your air traffic controller mentioned something about pirates?
>>
>>43899633
>>43899699
>>43899712

Writing. Was it too obvious? Or NOT TOO OBVIOUS ENOUGH?!?
>>
>>43899786
Naw, I'm just jaded is all.
>>
"Your air craft controller mentioned something about pirates? Should we be concerned?"

"Not unduly," Winston replies drily, "petty thieves from Freerock mostly, they have yet to make it out this far and I doubt they will, unless they are struck by a sudden desire to steal some rocks. Nonetheless, caution is never a bad plan."

You nod warily, "thank you, we'll let you know when we've got the relic."

With that, you step back into the elevator. As it whizzes downwards smoothly, Mara, silent until now, pipes up,

"Does anyone else get a bad feeling about all of this? I don't like the sound of pirates..."

"Don't stress it newbie," Deg quickly shoots back in his usual nonchalant manner, "it's just the jeebies. Everyone gets 'em when they're doing their first few missions outside the safety of Core Space."

You nod as if to agree, but you too can't quite shake the feeling of something being afoot.

You return to the ship, and make ready for takeoff, strapping in to the cockpit. Deg puts on his regular tripe music, which the two of you argue about for the entirety of the return to orbit. You plug the data stick into the computer, and it instantly starts feeding information into the navigator.

"It's close!" Deg remarks, "we'll be there in less than an hour if we go on sublights,"

"I recommend against jump travel in-system," states Mara matter-of-factly from the seat behind you.

"No duh, birdie. That's piloting one oh one," Deg shoots back, showing a rare bit of irritability. Backseat drivers in the cockpit are rare for a reason.

You make your way out from Kerls 2 towards your destination with little circumstance, the cold and distant twinkling of stars your only comfort.
>>
Fifteen minutes out from your destination, and you can just begin to spot what your scanners picked up a half an hour ago; a small grey dot, growing larger by the second.

Just then, your long range sensors being to flash again.

"Uh, cap, you'd better check this out," Deg says urgently, calling you over. You leap out of your seat to view the screen; it shows a small cruiser coming out of a jump not ten minutes by sublight in the direction from which you came.

"Son of a bitch," you spit through your grille, "this can't be good news."

The computer lights up again with the symbol for an incoming call. You hit it angrily, growling

"What?"

The icon displayed at first is unfamiliar, but the accompanying voice helps you recall,

"To the honourless pirate Solomon of the Hot Needle of Inquiry, this is Count Lucienne of House Girardie," comes the all too familiar growly tone of Canid Prime, "you are hereby commanded to stand down and surrender for the crime of assaulting a member of the nobility in good standing. Power down your systems at once!"

>Power them down, plan a hand to hand ambush.
>Try to escape to the planet's surface.
>Try to jump away.
>Stand and fight, ship to ship.
>Write in?

For reference, your ship has competent combat capabilities.
>>
>>43900356
>Stand and fight, ship to ship.
>>
>>43900356
How do our armaments compare?
>>
Just a warning, there's some pretty crazy storms going on outside and the odds of me losing power/internet are relatively high. I'm keeping my fingers crossed though!
>>
>>43900538
They are probably more heavily armed, but your ship will be considerably more agile.
>>
>>43900356
>>Try to jump away.

Lolnope bye.
>>
>>43900356
Negotiate our way out
>The crime happened in Constantinople space, and thus subject to Constantinople laws. I'm sure the Vid-feeds will tell a very different story than your 'nobility in good standing.'
>>
>>43900356
>Stand and fight, ship to ship
Immediately gun the engines, put up as much pressure in as little amount of time possible, go for batteries/power supply to take down any lasers and or any other non kinetic weaponry. Then go for engines, and after that is done get out of dodge and pick off the rest of the systems from afar. We want their engis busy.
>>
>>43900356
>Maneuver and fight
>>
"Deg, gun it for their projected exit point! We'll catch them off guard the second they come out of jump!" you shout, already running for the gunwells.

"Here we go!" he yells back, pushing the engines up to top speed. You eject out of your exosuit almost the second you reach the narrow access tube up to the turret, tentacles working furiously to catapult yourself up through the zero gravity.

You lock two tentacles onto the turret control, two more onto the remote control for the ventral gun, and the remainder to the walls for stability. You see up ahead of you a blocky, regal looking ship approximately twice the size of yours seemingly appear out of thin air, coated in a shimmering halo of electrical arcs that soon dissipate. Without wasting a second you pull all four triggers, raining a hail of bullets towards the craft before it has time to react!

Roll 3d10.
>>
Rolled 7, 10, 7 = 24 (3d10)

>>43900842
>>
>>43900857
>>
>>43900857
Without having to roll further, that's a critical success!

Let me write up something suitably dramatic.
>>
>>43900922
Oh hell yes, I picked a great time to show up for this thread. On an entirely different note, is that savage in the OP drinking beer with a straw?
>>
dice+3d10
oh dear lord I have never rolled dice please let this roll correctly
>>
Rolled 10, 2, 3 = 15 (3d10)

>>43901066
How about now?
>>
Rolled 4, 6, 8 = 18 (3d10)

>>43900842
How is it null-g if we're accelerating?
>>
>Critical Success
Inspiration Deg Jams: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zH9wHWMi_k


You hear below you the wild rattling of Deg's hype-up music. Normally you can barely stand the stuff but for some reason, now, it inspires some fury seated deep within the pounding of your three hearts.

You let out an angry cry, sending streams of shining bullets flashing towards the Canid cruiser. They splash across the surface of the craft, their plasma payload exploding in vibrant blue flashes. Flashing energy rakes along the hull until it comes to a focus on their engine section, which under sustained fire erupts!

You can feel the shockwave from where you are as the aft of the cruiser explodes outwards in a cloud of fire, plasma, and scrap metal.

"Holy fuck!" you hear Deg howl from below, accompanied by panicked squawking from your own engine section as the Hot Needle barrels through the debris. Clear of it, you see that the entire aft hull has been destroyed, leaving nothing but rapidly sealing patchfoam struggling to seal the holes that bulkheads cannot. Devoid of any means of steering or alternative propulsion, the derelict cruiser drifts slowly along its entry vector.

>Continue attacking
>Demand surrender
>Leave
>>
>>43901115
It probably uses artificial gravity to accelerate the passengers along with the ship.
>>
>>43901115
... space magic?

>>43901170
Or this one.
>>
>>43901162
>Demand surrender
>>
>>43901162
Send some fucking torps at it along with the beat of the music in full pow wow glory.
>>
>>43901162

>Continue attacking

The dead file no lawsuits
>>
>>43901162
>>Demand surrender
We wont be getting any booty from a ship that's been exploded.
>>
Looks like we need a tie breaker?
>Surrender, loot
or
>Blow the fuck up, radical explosions with no witness
>>
>>43901408
roll it
>>
>>43901408
I think we got an even number of posters.
>>
>>43901162
Demand surrender, tell them the Canid at the docks started it first - and the favor has been repaid.

>>43900976
Felids man. No sense of order at all.
>>
>>43901469
>>43901487
Bugger me you're right. Alri-
>>43901503
BASED IG APPEARS

Alright, writing.
>>
>>43901408
I voted for surrender but looks like we're evenly split, so you might as well roll for it. If we demand their surrender though, tell our side of the story and how we dindu nuffin.
>>
>>43901408

>Blow the fuck up, radical explosions with no witness
>>
You hail the Canid ship on comms from your position in the gunwell, keeping one tentacle on the controls.

"Canid cruiser, this is the "honourless" Captain Solomon. You need to keep your hounds on a tighter leash," you spit, not unintentionally, "your men drew on me in Constantinople, not the other way around. Not that you're in any position to refuse, power down your non-vital systems or my pilot puts a torpedo hole in your bridge."

The comms sit quiet for a moment as they mull over your demand, silence disturbed by the sound of arguing in the native Canid tongue in the background. A gruff voice returns to the comms after a few tense minutes,

"your innocence or guilt is moot, Ceph. IT would seem you have given us no choice but to surrender, what are your terms?"

>Write in.

I want to see what you guys want out of this.
>>
>>43901707
Take their ship as prize, leave them in a lifeboat.
>>
>>43901707
Weapons, money, leave them just enough supplies to get to the nearest port alive.
>>
>>43901707
"Well as much as we'd like to fulfill your stereotype of robbing you of everything not nailed down, we still have a sliver of honor. The choice is yours: you could let us have whatever navigation charts and weapons you have, OR you could send over a Canid to serve us as a crewmember. Maybe they'll see that we're not honorless cowards that draws a sword at someone trying to get to their ship. In any case, we'll contact the Cetaceans about your unfortunate engine failure."
We then can tell Winny that he can rev up those repair bays, you've just netted them a potential client to sap money from. I mean come on, you've got permissions being here in cetacean territory, but do the Canids?
>>
>>43901707
"We want any and all valuables on your ship that have not been destroyed, we would also enjoy it if you allowed us to deal that canid you call 'in good standing' his punishment. Oh, I forgot, we want your ship too, ya' blind, mislead, *gullible* buffoons!"
>>
>>43901707
Demand to cease any further pursuits, hand over some 'compensation' funds, and apologize for initiating combat.
>>
>>43901707
They're uplifts, not pokemon. We don't have to collect them all
>>
Alright guys, it looks like demands are for:
>Your money or your life!
>Your broken ass ship or your life!

Optional:
>We'll press gang one of your crew members or your life...?
>>
>>43901896
Seconding a begrudging Canid crew member.

Always good to have some potential allies, maybe even a mission source if we play our cards right.
>>
>>43901987

>Your broken ass ship or your life! Including valuables!
>>
>>43901987
I vote we press gang a crew member for future allies and side-quests (IN SPAAACE)
>>
Due to the total spread of votes, I'll allow five more minutes of voting on this >>43901987 post before making a decision.
>>
>>43901987
Money and press gang please. The possibilities are too plentiful to ignore.
>>
Am I the only one who thinks recruiting crew from kidnapped enemy rejects is a bad idea?
>>
>>43901987
>Your money or your life!
>>
>>43902076
Oh c'mon, we can convince one, slightly disgruntled Canid that we don't eat their babies.

As long as we didn't accidentally blow-up anyone important to them.
>>
>>43902076
It'll be fine. They'd be caught in their own honor too much to bother us too much.

>>43901987
Money and press gang!
>>
Alright, votes are in!

Also,
>mfw massive breakthrough on my research presentation due tomorrow

it's a good night lads
>>
>>43901987
>Your money or your life!
>We'll press gang one of your crew members or your life... ?
>>
>>43901987
Hrmmm... Alright, I guess we can take just a little more risk.

Vote for Money and Press Gang
>>
>>43902178
Hooray for overnight projects!
>>
"Send over a capsule full of any valuables you've got on board: denars, rugs, silverware, whatever other weird shit you Canids keep on your ships. I also demand you turn over a prisoner into our care as insurance that you won't try anything. Understood?"

An expected amount of grumbling comes over the comms, until finally,

"Agreed. You have won this time, but House Girardie always-"

"Sure," you mutter to yourself, shutting off the communicator mid sentence. You clamber weightlessly back down the gunwell, climbing into your exosuit once more.

"Shut the bulkheads Deg, I'm dropping the gangplank," you say over the ship's intercom through your helmet mic.

"Shit yeah!" comes the crackling reply, "let's hope these pups live as fancy as they dress eh?"

You chuckle back and hit the boarding ramp release as soon as the bulkheads are sealed. It hisses open, and the outward rush of air tugs gently at your legs. You quickly secure a tether between yourself and a mounting in the wall as you walk down the gangplank into the open void. Below you, above you, nothing but the abyss. Back in your green days you'd be dizzied just thinking about it; now you simply gaze out into the eternity with a slight sense of wonder.

A simple metal pod detaches from the cruiser, red trail stretching behind it as emergency thrusters drive it towards the Hot Needle. You toss another tether cable towards it as it reverses thrust, and the magnetic clamp quickly secures itself to the shining micro craft. You pull it in weightlessly until it comes to rest on the boarding ramp, at which point you slap the control panel, causing the ship to once again be sealed to the void.

Air begins hissing in through valves in the ceiling, and pressure is restored; the bulkheads slide back up. You approach the pod, Mara and Deg making their way into the room from opposite ends of the ship.
>>
Glittering stacks of gold and crystal denars fill the pod, save for the area taken up by a very irate looking Canid in combat armour. His hands are free, but they don't move for the sword that lies next to him, but rather the backpack as he hauls himself out of the pod.

"Who is that?" asks Mara, rather confused.

"A hostage," replies Deg, "you know, to make sure they don't come after us again. Or if we run out of food."

The Canid spits towards Deg's feet, but remains silent otherwise.

"I guess everything they say about courtly manners is a sham, huh cap. Well, what do you figure we should do with him?"

>Put him in the brig for now, we need to get to the relic as soon as possible.
>We should interrogate him right away, see if he knows anything.
>Get him settled, if he's going to be on the crew we should get right to it.
>>
>>43902651
>We should interrogate him right away, see if he knows anything.
>>
>>43902651
>>Put him in the brig for now, we need to get to the relic as soon as possible.
>>
>>43902651

>Get him settled, if he's going to be on the crew we should get right to it.

I can't believe we're doing this
>>
>>43902749
Gotta catch em all!
>>
>>43902651
>Get him settled, if he's going to be on the crew we should get right to it.
"So yeah, welcome to the Hot Needle, yada yada yada, now what's your name?"

>>43902749
We're Ceph yo, our way of thinking is as mysterious as the dark side of the moon.
>>
>>43902651
>Get him settled, if he's going to be on the crew we should get right to it.
>>
>>43902797
>>43902823
>>43902749
OH boy, here we go.
Riders on the shitstorm.
>>
"Get him settled," you reply, "if he's going to be with us we should get right to it."

"A-are you sure sir?" stammers Mara, mirrored by Deg's agape mouth and look of terrified confusion.

"How many times have I led you astray before? Trust me."

Deg starts counting on his fingers as you scoop up the Canid's blade,

"but just to be safe, we'll keep this in my quarters until everyone's familiarized. Now, Canid, what is your name? As many I can think of, I'd rather not resort to referring to you with shorthand and slurs."

The Canid continues to glower, remaining silent. You sigh and hook the sword onto your wall before closing the door.

"Alright then. We've got one bunk left, follow me. Deg, Mara, get the pod loaded into the cargo bay, we can divvy it up later."

Your two crewmates, still absolutely baffled, start hauling the heavy container through the cargobay doors. You lead the nameless Canid to the last remaining bunkroom, the first one on the left.

The door slides open at your command, revealing a bare room: a simple bed, a closet built into the wall, a desk and a chair are the only furnishings.

"Sorry if it's a bit plainer than you're used to, we don't normally have guests. You can spend your cut on, rugs or something. You folk like rugs, right?"

The Canid's glare turns to one of disgusted confusion as it brushes past you, throwing its pack onto the bed.

"Well, come up to the cockpit whenever you're ready, help yourself to anything in the fridge, the standardized bathroom is on your left, and please try not to do anything too stupid, we're not the bad guys. Mostly not the bad guys, at least."

As you turn your back to leave for the cockpit, you hear the Canid speak for the first time, his voice a file rasping on steel,

"We'll never forgive the Alliance for Xarxes Drift. We won't rest until every one of you Ceph bastards are dead."

You pause for a moment, and then close the door behind you.
>>
>Sleep with knife concealed under mantle
>>
>>43903097
Well, all things considered, I think that worked out quite well!
>>
You heavily plod up through the hallway, appendages feeling a little numb after the Canid's words.

Xarxes... the word echoes around your mind like ripples on a pond.

"Shit," you mutter as you enter the cockpit. Deg and Mara await your instructions anxiously, but you instead go wordlessly to the fridge and take out a bottle of Zemaiszemes vodka and sit down, pouring yourself a drink.

"Uh, cap? What's the plan?" Deg asks with an uncharacteristic note of concern in his voice.

You breathe deeply.

"Make for the relic, we don't know if there are more Canid ships inbound, or worse," you punctuate the last word with a swig from your glass. Deg shakes his head and gets the ship moving once more, engines rumbling in the distant back of the Needle.

Mara hovers, an unsure look on her, to you, alien face.

"Sir?"

You turn to face her, not getting up.

"What did the Canid say to you?"

You turn back to look out the viewport.

"Go check on the engines, Mara," you take another sip, "and get ready for full EVO."

Xarxes. Shit.
>>
>>43903348
The hell happened at Xarxes?
>>
And I'm going to call it here guys. It's been a good run tonight I think! But as much as I'd love to continue into the wee hours, I've got to finish this presentation on Corporate Chiefdom and Economic Rigidity in Prehistoric Chaco Canyon, and maybe squeeze in a workout before I go to bed.

>>43903370
SPOOKY EXPOSITION

Comments? Criticism? What can I do better guys?
>>
>>43903399
Dude, so far you've been running a pretty quality quest. This shit's got great potential.

At a guess, providing a link to the twitter and giving an ETA on the next thread will probably haul in a larger and more consistent crowd.

Apart from those points, everything seems to be running smoothly cap'n.
>>
>>43903399
Try not to tire yourself out. Fatigue is by far one of the biggest threats to any quest thread.

Try not to overestimate your abilities, any make informed delays if absolutely necessary for your studies/lively hood.

Do that, and your content should consistently be that of high quality.
>>
>>43903525
Ah! That's a good idea actually.

Twitter is @Friendo_QM, I think I've got all the shenanigans hammered out for now.

ETA on the next thread is Tuesday at 3:30ish PST

Thanks for the support!

>>43903586
I run into this problem so much with GMing actual games you think I'd have learned by now.

But thanks for the advice, I'll try to take it into consideration. I've got a few papers due on Friday so Tuesday will probably be the only thread this coming week, but after that my schedule is pretty much open.
>>
>>43903617
Glad to hear it, my man. You just take all the time you need.

I know all too well what happens when you let procrastination close it's dastardly grip.
>>
>>43903097
PERFECT chance to reply
"I will never forgive the alliance for Xarxes Drift if i could i would still be IN the alliance. but Genocide solves nothing"
>>
>>43903617
No problem, and thank you for the quest details!
>>
>>43903586
Fatigue? Friendo doesn't have fatigue, only a chill in his hands which can easily be remedied by way of inserting one's hands into one's butthole.
>>
>>43903762
Nah dude, from the sounds of if we did/were a part of some pretty nasty shit at Xarxes Drift.
>>
>>43903762
But anon, even true genius requires time for their wondrous fruits to ripen.
>>
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/43897039/

archived
>>
>>43903815
Probably same shit that happened with Deg's brother. But probably shit gave us PTSD and a severe distrust of AIs as well.



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