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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Star Trek: Operation Persephone
Subject: Back on the Charon


Stardate: 2374.09.03
The Charon – Captain’s Ready Room – 11:02 hours


The meeting had been a long one, as most debriefings were. Kelsey had listened to each of his officer’s reports on their findings, the limited information they’d received pertaining to Operation Persephone had given them some direction, and they’d made good on what information they had. He had to admit his satisfaction on their performance, and as the last one sat he tapped the table a moment in silent consideration. His senior staff had changed a bit since their last mission; there were those among them who weren’t familiar with Kelsey’s method of operation, and that gave him hesitation. Yet, after some contemplation, he had to conclude that they’d have to come to grips with it sooner rather than later if they were to perform as he needed them to. The scarred man’s gaze went slowly around the table, peering at each of the officers from beneath his brow.

“You’ve all done well,” he began in a low, even tone. “What I’m about to relay might come as a surprise to some, to others it is what was expected, though I’m sure the details are what you’re avidly awaiting.”

He was sure he had their attention now.

“Chief,” Kel turned his attention to Cathica. “You’ll need to make an adjustment to your flight path. I want you to take the Charon on a path that takes us within a few hours of this planet—“ The captain brought up the Gamma Quandrant in the holographic projection. One of the unmarked planets en route to Calinon VII was glowing with an undulating radiance. “It doesn’t have a name—at least not one that Starfleet has recorded. This new path needs to be recorded on the internal systems only, with a security rating accessible only by command staff from this ship. Do I make myself clear?”

(OOC: assuming there isn’t any argument.)

“Last night, Lieutenant Kennedy oversaw the transport of some containers to our cargo bays. These containers are to be left alone. Tampering with them will result in a whole hell of a lot of time in my brig. The containers are filled with argine. Are any of you familiar with that substance? It is very destructive explosive. There are thirteen containers…just enough to completely destroy an orbital platform.”

“My sources tell me that there is a Jem’Hadar incubation platform in orbit around that planet, and we’re going to use this little mission of Starfleet’s to strike a major blow against the Dominion.”

Kelsey paused once more to eyeball the new additions to his ship before turning his attention to Talon. “Lt. Cmdr. Talon, you’ll put together the usual compliment to join us in the infiltration of the base in order to plant the localization device so that we can beam the explosives past the platform’s shields. Jones, I’ll need you to perfect the modulation of the disruptor frequency on both the localization device and the shuttle we’ll be taking. Ben, I want you to pay real close attention to that cloaking device once the Romulans bring it aboard. See if you can’t use it, or its technology, to aid us in this endeavor.”

Turning sharply to Cathica, Kel reiterated, “Make sure that our flight path affords us the proper window to detach our shuttle from the formation, and return. I believe such an operation should take two hours, or so to reach the platform, a fifteen minute block to set the explosives, and two hours to return.

“I need not remind all of you how important it is that this remain under the utmost secrecy. Our lives, the crew’s life, and countless Federation souls depend upon it.”

The room fell silent for a moment as Kel allowed the information to sink in. Then, he stood up indicating that the mission briefing was at an end. “Work whatever you need to out through Lt. Kennedy to coordinate departments. Any questions?”

(OOC: will field questions as needed.)

“Time is running out, people. Dismissed.”

Stardate: 2374.09.02
The Charon – Bridge – 15:28 hours


Captain Gavison sat in the command chair, Flight Control’s empty seat before him, only three engineering personnel in the room with him, their tasks prearranged by the shift officer. At the moment, they were underneath the science console, working overtime to resolve an issue that was buried in Kel’s reports somewhere. The captain was in the process of reviewing personnel files of his new officers; the information he’d dumped on them, his direct orders to keep his mission secret from Starfleet, and his assumption that they’d show a huge amount of loyalty to a captain they’d just met was weighing heavily on his mind. After the meeting, he’d tried to dismiss his paranoia as just that, but eventually had given in to his distrustful nature, spending time perusing their files for any indication that they might contaminate the purity of his mission.

Cathica Mas’Riat’s record was doctored. Kel had reviewed enough records in his time to be able to tell. All that was there was what Sisko wanted him to see—what he needed to know about her to trust her at his helm. This, alone, didn’t worry the captain. Sisko knew enough of the way that Gavison operated to know that he’d likely try to annihilate any and all Jem’Hadar he encountered provided he could get away with it. The chances that Benjamin would put a spy on board his ship were slim. Still, Kelsey had a hard time not wanting to read between the lines.

Kato III was even less likely to be a spy, which put him top on Kelsey’s list. The man was an exchange officer from a culture that was not entirely for Federation ideals. He was an eager addition to their crew…something Kelsey hadn’t seen in quite some time. Most transfers to the Charon were filled with trepidation, fear, or resignation. They knew that they were a short distance away from death—the insignia on the assignment patch had become an ominous indication of their future—at least that was the assumption. Most transfers of late had been volunteers, but that didn’t make them any less concerned for their future. Kato’s enthusiasm was a little disconcerting.

Settling back in his chair, Kel switched the arm-view computer off and scowled at the blank viewscreen, the sounds of the engineering crew working away echoing dully from the bulwarks. With a shake of his head, he determined to have one of his patented “heart-to-hearts” with the two of them. He thought about the correct time, the proper method, maybe altering his usual abrupt nature…thoughts that kept him occupied for a number of minutes. Eventually, he came to the determination that there was work that needed to be done.
Switching the computer on once more, Kel began programming the holodeck program he’d use with the team Talon put together to practice their infiltration.


Posted on 2008-06-18 at 04:28:01.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: One of the books...


I bought the Star Trek Encyclopedia...it has time/measurements for warp travel. I'm geaking out pretty bad right now.

Posted on 2008-06-18 at 01:06:18.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Shall you move things forward?


I've sent you that link again, Sui.

Posted on 2008-06-18 at 00:58:49.

Topic: An Idea for Webdesign At the Inn
Subject: Feasible.


It is feasible, and I don't think the programming would be difficult. It is just a matter of Olan finding the time to get it done. I understand how PHP works, but have never been able to do more than modify the occasional programming. I like the idea, myself, but of all of us that I know of that are capable of manipulating the Inn, Olan is the only one who could make that happen.

Posted on 2008-06-18 at 00:47:31.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell
Subject: Dead...air


The Lieutenant peered over at Charlie, worry in his eyes.

"Kane?" Monty changed direction. "We may have a problem. You’re to change directions. Return to the observatory and check on Corporals Hatherford and Hart. We’ve dead air. Confirm their condition, and return them, and Corporal Fields and Private Carter to the communications center. Over.”

Turning back to Blake his tone became very serious. “We need whatever’s in that computer, Blake, an’ I mean fast. Whatever you’re doing it is time to double-time it.”

Too many variables…to much of the unknown.


Posted on 2008-06-17 at 04:11:30.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell
Subject: Orders to proceed.


“Lt we got a dead something here and you need to see this ASAP I think Blake can handle the comps herself for a few sir”

The radio squawked in Kernan’s ear causing him to look away from Blake’s work reflexively.

“That’s a negative, Sarge,” Monty responded, shaking his head at the Chief reassuringly. “We’re not leaving any ranger alone at any time, so be more specific as to what you mean by, ‘we got a dead something’: what is it? A yeti? A station employee? What?”

(OOC: assuming Monty receives the description in at least coherent detail.)

Taking a deep breath, Kernan raised his eyebrows at Blake and gave a slight shake of his head, partially in disbelief, and partially in resignation. “Ten-four, Kane. I read you. Proceed with caution. We need to know what that power station looks like, copy?”

Receiving a response from Kane, Monty took a look at the door once more. How does one prepare for that which is undocumented? The lieutenant leaned pushed away from the table and strolled around the front of the desk Blake was working at, still focusing on the door. He was considering all of that which had transpired to date, the information they’d gathered pertaining to the hostiles and natives, and that which it proposed as possibilities, and he knew he was in over his head. He was simply a soldier with orders, and an officer; officers were used to acting on intel, and when they didn’t have any, they sought it. In the end, that’s what it boils down to, he thought wryly. There’s not enough information to go on. I need more intel.

The findings that Kane had related did bring some alarm to Monty’s awareness. It added another unknown to the equation, and that meant that the threat was greater than previously thought. Switching the radio back on the lieutenant addressed the men he’d left behind.

“Corporal Hatherford, Corporal Hart, do you copy?” (OOC: assuming Kernan gets a response.) “Gather up those G.I.s and bring them to the communications center. We’re bringing the fire team together again while Staff Sergeant Kane and his team perform recon on the power station.”


Posted on 2008-06-16 at 03:55:35.
Edited on 2008-06-16 at 03:57:54 by Bromern Sal

Topic: The Embodiment
Subject: Still waiting...


We still need a few character concepts, and then I need to work through the histories with each of you, flesh the characters out a bit more, and make the character sheets. So, no...no projected date for starting the game just yet.

Posted on 2008-06-16 at 03:14:31.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: My apologies


I was out of town for the weekend. I'll post soon to answer some of those questions.

Posted on 2008-06-16 at 03:10:30.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Tee hee hee


*Giggles at the humor of it*

This would make a good movie:

Sex, Aliens (well, monsters, but they count), and explosions (crumbling towers count too).

Posted on 2008-06-16 at 03:03:02.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Dude!


Look at your characters! You are all dressed in leather, carrying guns, big bad-a$$e$$ with mirrorshades. None of you fit into a Beaverville situation. Even Peacekeeper doesn't have the right clothing with her...

You want to find a place without security there's always the Combat Zone, though that's not likely to have an RV. I do realize though, that I failed to be descriptive with the direction the security vehicle was moving: away. It is driving away at about 5mph.

Posted on 2008-06-16 at 03:01:41.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I wonder...


Wonder how lucky I'd be...pulling a duplicate like I done on his brother.

Posted on 2008-06-16 at 02:52:02.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Still need some character bios.


I've updated the character listings for the players. This is not final, but I'm going to try and make it work. I need the others, at least in premise, so I can start working with you all to develop the history.

Posted on 2008-06-16 at 02:37:56.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: You can't.


Olan can...I suppose I could if I really wanted to mess with the table information, but I don't. This is why my times are off still for my last two logbook entries.

OK, so I just returned from Vegas where we stayed at the Las Vegas Hilton. Our first day there was spent at the Star Trek Experience. I've got pictures of borg, starships, weapons, uniforms...all sorts of stuff. It was really pretty cool. Anyway, I also bought two books: An encyclopedia of everything Star Trek...almost. They left out Enterprise series things due to when the book was printed, but it has a lot of info. The second being all of the star maps. Helpful info.

So, I'm guessing that the other officers aboard the Charon aren't going to post, so I'll likely move that ahead with a Whoosh post as well in the near future.

Posted on 2008-06-16 at 02:10:54.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: mistake in timing.


My mistake. Go with Eol's time. This is why the logbook helps.

Posted on 2008-06-12 at 18:47:50.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: Posted for Cerberus.


Ok, so I've posted for Cerberus: Stan and Lt. Hash. I also updated the logbook with all Cerberus entries up to date. Please, everyone, remember to update the logbook when you post. It is really very easy, and it helps out so much with the posting.

I'm waiting on posts from senior staff for the Charon to continue the briefing, but that doesn't mean I won't post ahead to keep the Charon up to date with the Cerberus.

Posted on 2008-06-12 at 07:03:45.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation Persephone
Subject: The Cerberus...Fade to Commercial


Stardate: 2374.09.03
Cerberus – Jefferies Tube B, Deck 4 – 0930 hours

Stan…he’d become used to that moniker now, and had decided that it had been a fortuitous event leading up to his selection of this rather slovenly human for a disguise. The crew tended to leave him be due to his nature and appearance. Even his CO seemed to find it difficult to spend time around him, giving him duties that—thus far—had put him in remote regions of the ship, and giving him time to renew himself in relative privacy. Wandering the Jefferies Tubes had also given him a much more in depth view of the ship’s inner workings; far better than the floorplans he’d committed to memory. He still hadn’t decided where and how he was going to ensure that the Cerberus and her crew never reached the Gamma Quandrant, but he was even more confident than he’d been to date, and that was saying quite a lot.

For the time being, he’d play it smart; remain in disguise, follow orders, and continue to work his way around the ship until he’d found the best method for enacting his mission directive. His only regret thus far was the rank of the poor sod he’d fed to the nanites: an officer would have afforded him so much more access. He’d almost remedied that in the lift yesterday when fortune had found him alone with the ship’s doctor for a brief period of time—too brief. It was unfortunate as being ship’s doctor would have allowed him such freedom…

Practicing a dismissive sigh—so unlike his kind—Stan hefted his portable scanner and continued his registration of subatomic stress on the support tresses in preparation for launch.

Stardate: 2374.09.03
Cerberus – Sick Bay – 0830 hours

Lt. Hash stepped from his office and tossed a PADD to Ensign Braff without ceremony, nearly causing the young man to drop it in his haste to react.

“Decent,” Jon growled. “I might even go so far as to say adequate, but I’m afraid that if I do, well, it would just go to your head and then you’d have trouble getting your under shirt on in the morning. That would, of course, lead to you being unable to show up in uniform, which would be cause for a reprimand. And guess who has to file those. You guessed it. Me! Good lord, man! Do you see what kind of work you’re adding to my plate by being adequate? Go back to being ineffective and we’ll call it a day.”

Shaking his head, Hash turned about, taking in his crew. “Like it or not, kiddies, we’re about to leave this birthing chamber and head off into the wild black yonder. Now, I’m betting some of you girls and boys want to take some time to send those last minute, tear-ridden missives back to mommy and daddy before we take off, but you know what? I just don’t care, there’s work to be done!

“What? You say, with your little baby blues all wide and alarmed. I thought we’d finished with all of the initial what-to’s and such when that last bushy-tailed crewman skipped his lily white ass out the door and on his way. What more do we have to do? Can’t we return to our knitting? Isn’t there hugs of appreciation in our near future? What about starting a camp fire and singing Koombayah, or whatever the hell it is called?” A look of disgust washed over the doctor’s weathered face. “Ugh. There’s no hugs, no campfire songs, just long hours of reviewing every tiny, little detail of each and every crewman we’ve surreptitiously scanned, prodded, and basically embarrassed with questions like: are you sure you aren’t a test tube baby? I swear I had that tricorder a moment ago, could you bend over so I can see if I left it there? And—oh, this is my favorite—were your nipples that color when you came on board? Leave no stone unturned, no leaf untouched, and no baby birds in the nests, people! Get to work!”

As the suddenly barked order cleared his throat the room became awash with activity. Medical staff rushed to be about their duties, PADDs and medical tricorders in hand so as to at least appear to be busily about duties.

“Ensign Tort!”

The young woman stopped short and turned to face her superior with a guilty look on her smallish face despite knowing that she’d done nothing wrong to date.

“Yes, Sir?” she answered with a slight squeak.

“Did you just hiccup? My hell, what was that? If you’re going to go hiccupping all over my sick bay, I think I’ll throw up. That’s pathetic. How can anyone possibly take you seriously if you’re hovering over them going—HICCUP! HICCUP! HICCUP!—in their face the whole time?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Did you just ‘yes, sir’ me about a hiccup?” Jon stared at her incredulously. “Grow a set, and come here.”

The small woman rushed forward to stand sharply at attention before Lt. Hash. He scared the living hell out of her. After her first encounter with him she’d heard nothing but horror stories from the others—rumors all, but there was always some truth to the rumors, and everything she’d heard frightened her.

“At least you can do that right,” Jon sighed as though talking with her was more stress than he was used to. “Get those Romulans in here for a complete body scan. They’ve been aboard long enough to have their legs under them, or to dry the wet from behind their pointy little ears, or whatever those sublimely evil little bas—Did you just gasp? Seriously? Oh! Oh! What’s with the quivering lip? Are you going to cry? Ensign Braff! Get over here! You…Ensign Tort, are dismissed. There will be no crying in my sick bay. How the hell did you enlist? You do know that it’s a crime to lie about your age. Do your parents know you’re playing doctor?”

Ensign Tort spun quickly on the tip of her toes and rushed from the room before her tears could actually cascade down her cheeks as Ensign Braff shuffled up. Braff made every effort to not show fear. To him, Hash was like a wild beast, feeding on the weak in the herd, and Braff was keen on exercising the age-old adage of he who runs fastest doesn’t get eaten.

“As I was saying,” Jon looked Braff dead in the eye. “Get those pointy-eared, evil, soul-sucking Romulans in here by this afternoon for full body scans. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“You’re not a bloody MACO, Ensign, and I’m not deaf—well, at least not until a moment ago,” Jon turned and started making his way back towards his office, glancing back over his shoulder at the zealous young man as he went. “Cut back on the sugar, Lollipop. Can’t have you bouncin’ about all a-flutter. You might slip and wind up with a boo-boo.”

Ensign Braff didn’t wait for the lieutenant to disappear behind closed doors before immediately finding his way to the table computer where he brought up the registered information pertaining to the Romulan contingent.

“I swear,” Ensign Maguire whispered at his side. “If he tries treating me like that I’ll—“

“You’ll what, Jordan?” Braff asked out of the corner of his mouth with a derisive snort to accompany it. “Tattle? He’d have a hay-day with that. The guys a beast, that’s for certain, but I hear tell that he’s a top-notch field medic. I was told that I could learn a lot from him, and I intend to.”

“Yeah,” Maguire snorted. “You can learn how to make sweet, little girls cry. That’ll get you far in Starfleet.”

“Tort can take care of herself—“

“Like just now? She took right care of herself. Ran right out of the room and is likely crying, humiliated in her quarters. I swear—“

“Yup, you’re a brave one. You were right here, Jordan, same as me, and you did nothing same as me, so don’t go puffing up your chest pretending you’d do something you won’t. Duck your head for a bit and remain innocuous. We’ll figure this beasty out, just like we did the instructors in the medical program at Starfleet. We just need some time.”

“A lot of good it will do us,” Maguire commented wryly. “Did you hear that Hash performed Captain MacTavish’s physical right there in engineering? Walked right into the room as I hear it told, and demanded that MacTavish make himself available, and the captain complied!”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Braff hissed as he thumbed in the established appointment times for each of the Romulans, setting the computer to inform them of their pending reviews. “I heard that Captain MacTavish was something of a bear himself. I’m not so sure that our mission isn’t to survive the command staff—did you see that security officer? This is like a who’s who of intergalactic boogiemen, Jordan, and you, me, Tort, everyone; we’re going to have to figure out how to survive. So, keep your nose clean, and your head down.”

“Yeah,” Maguire intoned distractedly. “Maybe I’ll put some laxative in his coffee…”

“Beggin’ for trouble…” Braff shook his head in dismay and sent off the appointment times. “Beggin’ for trouble.”

Posted on 2008-06-12 at 06:52:38.

Topic: The Embodiment
Subject: CP Points


My system works a little differently, but for the main stats and skill ranks I'm leaning towards a number close to 120. The base FUZION system is only a part of my rules. Remember, I took the best of the systems, added my own rules, and mixed until slightly juicy for FUZIONfantasy, so I wouldn't set your discoveries in the FUZION system as doctrine.

How are those character relationships coming along?


Posted on 2008-06-12 at 04:38:03.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: Not necessarily.


Look at the logs. You can post ahead all you like. The beauty (and occasionally, the problem) with free form is that you're breathing life into your sections, inciting interaction amongst other players, creating your own issues, etc.

Posted on 2008-06-12 at 02:55:53.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I hope...


...the vehicle rules helped.

Posted on 2008-06-12 at 02:51:48.

Topic: The Embodiment
Subject: Done Sui.


List currently consists of Vanadia and Sui.

Yes! Please post it here.

Posted on 2008-06-11 at 20:43:11.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: I have to admit...


I had the intention of posting last night, but after posting to Cerebral Paradox I decided to watch a movie instead. I will try to get a post in before I leave for Vegas Friday.

Posted on 2008-06-11 at 20:40:52.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Residential only.


Imagine yourself currently on the outskirts of a sprawling suburb. There are likely additional bus stops throughout the stretch of suburbia, but your group fits into that area about as well as circus clowns at Mass. Doesn't matter where you get off the bus, you aren't going to fit in with Smiling Bob the Cialis guy and his Stepford Wife.

Posted on 2008-06-11 at 06:22:17.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: Moving things right along now...


The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:14pm

Reverend answered his boss relatively quickly all things considered, following the other two out of the building and into the rain. By the time they reached the slate gray sidewalk, there was no sign of the others who’d passed before them, leaving the trio standing alone on the curb. The choices were simple: walk in one of the worst storms of the Spring, catch a cab, or take the bus. Sticking with tradition, Spiff waved down a robo-cab while Reverend finished up his report on his findings.

The door to the gunmetal gray and pewter vehicle swung open revealing a fairly roomy interior, all things considered. Receiving instructions from Spiff, Reverend stood outside the door and waited until they were seated comfortably, the orders given, before giving his boss a nod and closing the door to be off about his business.

The cab was piloted by a limited AI system that had the city streets mapped out in fine detail within its memory banks as well as sensors all about it to keep it from crashing. There wasn’t even the fake-looking driver as seen in holo-vids of eras past, just the charcoal gray dash that protected the computer system, and the card-swipe, electronic bank machine that was designed as part of the dash. A friendly, female voice was the only indication of human interaction from the Robo-Cab company, politely asking for their destination, music preference, and if the climate controls were comfortably set.

Night City, being what it was, had street vendors, DataTerms, and vending machines every few blocks, so it didn’t take long for Spiff to spot a Vend-a-Phone beneath the awning of a Chinese curios shop. The purchase was quick and painless, the machine accepting Spiff’s cash without reservation (though it did fuss a bit about one of the crumpled, multi-colored bills). In no time, the fixer was back inside the cab with the female voice asking the prime questions all over again.

It was a waiting game now…could Reverend deliver on a contact using Spiff’s network so they could get the weapon, and possibly the gear, Spiff was interested in? Preacher sat quietly the whole of the ride, possibly considering just that…though from his soft snore, Spiff highly doubted it.

The Mean Streets – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:45pm




Outside of The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:14pm

Guardian had to make a decision: his apartment, or some dive motel that took cash. Someplace quiet, someplace relatively safe…the dive motel won for two reasons: if the corporation was, in fact, on to them as DigitalScribe suspected, then it was likely they knew where Guardian’s apartment was, and if they didn’t, he wanted to keep it that way. So, the Red Cab went south deeper into Night City, to someplace Guardian had never been before. As a matter-of-fact, the bodyguard gave the cabbie a random destination and then spotted a likely roost along the way, stopping the vehicle and stepping into the rain once more to check for any possible trouble while Scribe paid.

A short jaunt to the motel office, nostrils filling with the odor of mildew and wet carpet, an ambiguous conversation with a rotund black woman wearing curlers and chain smoking, and the two men were fast checking into a room with a terrace view on the main floor.

“Guardian, you best be ready for just about anything,” Scribe growled irritably as he made his way to the desk and set his bag upon it. “The way those yahoos were bleating about Biotechnica will most certainly lead their bloodhounds to our trail. We’ll be lucky if they haven’t already latched onto one of the groups.”

Lifting his camera out of the bag, Scribe inspected it once more to see if Spiff had actually done it some harm. Assured that it was in good condition, he turned his attention to making phone calls, completely oblivious to Guardian’s activities.

The City Inn – South Night City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 1:14pm




Outside of The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:30pm

The bus was the cheapest, and surest way of reaching Rancho Coronado, and it was the bus that the group quickly found themselves on—a move that resulted in more than enough space between them and the common passenger; more than one of which steadfastly refused to look in their direction. It was a long ride with many stops along the way, but it was affordable, and it kept them out of the rain, though it didn’t afford them much opportunity to chit chat.

Rancho Coronado was the beavertown of Night City. Statics bought tract housing, set up the barbeque in the back yard, parked their status symbol car in the driveway, and envied one another’s lives from behind curtained windows while stay-at-home wives slept with whomever they could get their hands on to alleviate boredom and to inadvertently give the neighborhood something to gossip about.

Bull’s Eye didn’t know whether their luck would hold, but he was seriously hoping they’d be able to find an RV within the maze of suburbia. But there was more to contend with than just the search. Neighborhoods hired security companies to patrol their streets making it safe for those stay-at-home wives to perform their trysts, sunbathe in the back yard, or gossip on street corners, and as the bus pulled up to the stop, the group wasn’t surprised so much as disappointed to see a white security sedan drifting slowly down the road ahead of them.

“There’s no way that this group is going unnoticed,” Peacekeeper muttered as she stared down the street at the obstacle they now faced.

“Those rent-a-cops are gonna be all over us the second we step foot on the pavement,” Bull’s Eye confirmed as the doors to the bus hissed with hydraulics and swung open. “What’s the plan, Croaker?”

Dover Street – Rancho Coronado – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 4:30pm

Posted on 2008-06-11 at 02:42:48.

Topic: The Embodiment
Subject: Sorry Sui...


As much as I'd like to, it appears that we're full. I will, however, be happy to place you on reserve.

Posted on 2008-06-11 at 01:52:14.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: The Trek Tools


Trek Tools are located here: http://www.rdinn.net/trek/

Just click on the ship you want to investigate and you have a bunch of links at the bottom of the page, some with fly out menus that could make it a little interesting to try and click on. I've gotten around this by right clicking and selecting "Open in a New Tab." Anyway, there's a roster to see who is who, and who the player is for that character as well as a background, department, etc., and there's a logbook where you leave notification of your activities so other posters can crosscheck your whereabouts and what else is going on aboard the ship at the time of their post. Right handy.

Posted on 2008-06-10 at 14:30:01.

 


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