Ahem, y'all. Date prisa con los mensajes, por favor.

I got it, Espatier. 

Dragon-soul, the only dumb question is the unasked one. I wrote that Cipher and Blossom are still at the apartment. I didn't include Guardian with them because I wanted to leave it up to you to decide where he'd be. Everyone else is at the Piranha and we're doing a lot of afternoon posts to bring that to a resolution. You can make your post for either time.

I've got a post for Vegas... Mid-week and I'd like to post on Friday again.

Yeah... I'm bummed about CTP's exit as well. 

I've posted, by the way.

EVERYONE

March 13th, Day 7 - Thursday, Time is 2:30 PM PST - Mid-City, Edgerunner Enclave (China Town), Charlie’s Apartment X00050:2.Y00310:08.Z00410:15, South Night City Integrate.

Weather Conditions: High City (Windy, Temperature: Very Strong | High: 85°F (29.4°C) | Low: 72°F (22.2°C) | Wind Force: Very Strong | Wind Speed: 35 mph (56.3 kph) | Very Strong Wind: Strong gusts of wind that impose a -4 penalty on Awareness checks and certain ranged weapon attacks. Such gusts automatically extinguish unprotected flames. Flying vehicles struggle with a -2 penalty. | Midcity (Windy, Temperature: Very Hot | High: 98°F (36.6°C) - (Very Hot: A character in very hot conditions (above 90°F) must make a CON check each hour (DC 16) or take 1d4 points of Stun Damage. Characters wearing heavy clothing or armor of any sort take a -4 penalty on their checks. A character with the Survival skill may receive a bonus and may be able to apply this bonus to other characters as well. A character who takes any Stun damage from heat exposure now suffers from heatstroke and is fatigued. These penalties end when the character recovers the Stun damage she took from the heat. Stun damage from heat exposure cannot be recovered until the character gets cooled off (reaches shade, survives until nightfall, gets doused in water, is targeted by endure elements, and so forth). Once rendered unconscious through the accumulation of Stun damage, the character begins to take lethal damage at the same rate.) | Low: 83°F (28°C) | Wind Force: Strong | Wind Speed: 22 mph (35 kph) | Strong Wind: A steady wind with a 75% chance of extinguishing unprotected flames.) | Undercity (Windy, Temperature: Very High | High: 115°F (46.1°C) | Low: 101°F (38.3°C) | Wind Force: Light | Wind Speed: 9 mph (14.5 kph))

Air Quality Index: High City = 0 | Midcity = 15 | Undercity = 95 (masks required)

Conversations about the more mundane aspects of life and plans for equipment fill the early afternoon. Charlie sets the search app on his phone to look for a conapt to meet Casino’s request. He also uses additional instances of the app to search for the medical equipment and spends some time arranging purchase of the munitions Casino has ordered. Lastly, he sets Hui Yin to work locating the shell for his truck, seating, and the hardware Fixer will need to complete the job. While the fixer is at work, the netrunners are also doing their thing. 

“The plans for this suit have got to be worth millions to the right buyer,” Blossom breathes, rightfully in awe of what the team has in their possession. “This is the Show, chooms. We get this deal done—we find a buyer—and we can all retire on our own private islands.”

There’s still a lot to figure in, of course. Fixer could spend hours going over the specs for the suit to get the details on just what it’s capable of. Questions are raised, discussions held, and further Net research performed. But all of this is put on hold when the Capore Steel sniper gains the team’s attention.

"Hey everyone,” Ghlahn speaks up. “I got more info on the job from the CEE-metal. Seems a group of wannabe netrunners calling themselves The Tychoons have been a bit of a thorn in their side. They would like us to send them a message. When we send a message it isn't a mean email, if you catch my drift. It is up to us to find these idiots, let them know the CEE-Metal are not amused and ensure the message is delivered. Personally, I find it hard for a corpse to cause trouble and most of my alt-cult would agree so this is gonna be a fast, hard and messy hit. Hopefully we can catch them as a group. Cipher, Blossom, I am sending you a digital footprint we captured. Can you find them and where they are hiding? Those interested will make a plan to deliver the message once we know where they are. Each Tychoon that is eliminated is worth 2,000c. So who wants in on the job?"

Guardian nods to Ghalahn and replies, “as I said, I'm in. I need the cash, but I'm hoping you don't need me if you catch my meaning. Anyway, sign me up.”

Vegas nods his approval as Ghlahn lays out his cards regarding the gig. “Deal me in!” This whole affair with Jeannette’s armored suit is going to take more time to iron out and could take some additional eddies. If the job Ghlahn has brought to them pans out, they could come out on top and begin the vengeance biz with resources.

Then the Dapper Solo turns to the rest of the group, asking them to consider any plan of action, no matter how reasonable or unreasonable their idea might seem to be, so that Vegas can consider the input from every member of the group.

“Maybe one or two of us could scout ahead first?” Guardian offers up. “We don't want to encounter any unwelcome surprises.”

"Once our netrunners locate the idiots,” Ghlahn states calmly. “I will scout out the location along with one other person; whoever wants to come along. Good idea to not walk in relying only on tech info."

Blossom and Cipher huddle close together whispering, but the Capore Steel’s comment practically jerked Blossom’s head up. “Yeah, sure, gonk. ‘Cause we’ll have time t’ kill for that sort of thing. 

“Look, you got a group of Black Hats with balls the size of planets trolling CEE-metal enclaves. You think you’ll get within fifty meters of their HQ without being spotted by constructs running the best ice available or hacked CCTV, drones, or another kind of tech surveillance?”

Cipher shrugs, “She’s not wrong.”

Holding up her tiny gloved hands defensively, Blossom continues, “I mean, until we know where these hocus pocus types are based, I don’t know that there’s much planning to do. Just my two eddies input. Take it for what you paid for it.

“So, Cipher and I will take the little calling card, Ghlahn just flicked us and see what we can see. Guardian, if one of us starts bleedin’ from the ears, you’re up.” 

Blossom blows Guardian a friendly kiss and then folds her legs underneath her to get comfortable. Cipher grins at the little Asian woman’s bravado and then makes herself comfortable as well, her mecha curling up by her right hip.

With the two netrunners jacking in, the rest of the team is left to do what they need in the Real. Checks on local time indicate that they still have hours yet before they need to meet up with Patriot. 

“So," Casino asks, "anyone got any more info on this Patriot guy?”

As Patriot is Charlie’s contact, all eyes turn to the fixer for answers. There’s not much to relay. Patriot is a pure breed vulture. That is to say that he’s after the story but he doesn’t burn contacts or treat leads likely. He’s after the truth and takes particular pride in exposing corruption within the government and corporations. He’s got a good rep for not letting teams down and doesn’t shy away from violence if it rears its head and he’s got ahead for when to omit things from his stories to keep those who helped him safe.

As Cred Stick Charlie is sharing what he knows and feels appropriate to share with the team, Echo’s agent buzzes drawing her attention to the notice displayed on the screen. Got a few. Sitting alone on a scouting mission for a few. What’s up? It’s from Luke.

March 13th, Day 7 - Thursday, Time is 5:30 PM PST - Mid-City, Heywood, Mid-City, The Black Piranha Bar & Grill, X00105:4.Y00272:01.Z00385:00, South Night City Integrate.

Careful not to share any information about their treasure anywhere in public that might be overheard, the group arrives at the dive that sits just off of one of the blocked canals that used to penetrate deep into the California landscape before the Arasaka Tower Incident. 

Charlie’s truck wouldn’t carry the entire party, and the mess that the fixer had to deal with when closing out the van rental deal (the details of which he kept entirely to himself) were enough to warrant the use of public transportation. A couple of buses put the troupe within walking distance.

The heat of the day hammers the team with relentless, angry fire. Jackets and double-layer clothing have to be shed unless it consists of smart tech that cools the wearer using their own sweat as a power source. Even then, all second-layer clothing is carried.

Outside of the Black Piranha, the adjacent parking lot is home to a number of homeless. Tents are erected in a ramshackle maze of stinking community, though even as the evening hours loom on the horizon, the occupants are deep in the shaded protection of their abodes. Some of the more drugged out or brain-fried citizens of Night City lie near the doorway or stumble along like zombies back and forth in front of the establishment. The odor of refuse and bile catch streams of the fierce hot winds where they are thrown in the team’s faces at regular intervals. Whether it’s the sheer number of the company or the capable appearance that they carry themselves with, the team is unmolested as they make their march from the bus stop inside the bar and grill. All are present except for Blossom and Cipher who are still jacked in searching for as much information as they can on The Tychoons. 

A blast of cooler airstrikes their faces, chilling the sweat on their skill, accompanied by the dubious aroma of cooking meat. Cyberoptics quickly adjust to the dimmed lighting revealing a deep establishment with a podium near the door covered in stickers promoting various lifestyle products, a couple of vending machines ready to dispense flavor-cigs, condemns, and other oddities pertaining to hygiene. The kitchen is in the back, out of sight; enclosed booths run the length of the walls, each with ratty padded benches that wrap about in a broad U-shape and scarred laminate-covered tables. The decor is Latino with brightly colored art and murals covering the walls. Most of the tables are filled, and the patrons look to be a mix of gang members and locals. As the hostess approaches, an average-sized black man with dreaded TechHair® cuts her off. His long black dreads descend past his shoulders, with strands of glowing red woven through the braids. He wears a thin mustache and small goatee and has a charismatic and good-looking face. He moves confidently with eyes that dart about capturing the world around him. A light tattoo is emblazoned on his right forearm and is a simple rendition of Lady Justice. Another light tattoo is displayed on his left bicep and is a Kanji.

“It’s okay,” he says in a slight Jamaican accent, “They’re with me.” 

The hostess nods, smiles her welcome and glides back towards the kitchen. The tattooed man stops directly in front of the team, particularly face-to-face with Charlie, and smiles a brilliant white toothy grin. 

“They serve a preem enchilada, choom,” he spreads his arms wide in his own welcome and turns slightly to motion the group forward. “I have us set up in the conference room just back there.”

Once everyone is seated in a chamber where the Latino music is just loud enough to drown out any quiet conversation except for those who have enhanced hearing, a waitress arrives through the only door in or out of the room. Orders are placed (OOC: the cost is between eight and twenty credits; let me know what you’re spending), along with any beverages including beer (OOC: the cost is between two-fifty and five credits; again, let me know what you’re spending).

“Well, then,” the black man grins and looks around the table in a charismatic way. “You’ve likely figured out that I’m Patriot, but I’m going to need some names to associate with faces as Cred Stick Charlie hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with that information.”

Holding up his right hand, he quickly adds, “We're free to discuss our biz here. I’ve never had any problems with leaks from this joint.”  

“Patriot.” Charlie smiles as he greets the media vlogger and accepts Patriot's word on the security of the Black Piranha. “I’ll let everyone speak on their own behalf but I hope that you can still help us out with a sensitive corporate nature if you understand what I’m meaning. Your followers’ help could change the opinion of said giant corporation and knock them down a peg or two.”  

Charlie takes a seat after everyone else sits down and orders a soft drink, which the waitress adds to her hand-held device.

“Not hungry, my friend?” Patriot asks, noticing Luther’s light fare. “Trust me. You don’t want to miss out on Mamacita Pauline’s enchiladas.” Rapping a knuckle on the table, he closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head slowly, “Preemo stuff. You can’t even tell that the meat is soy-based.”

Turning to the waitress who is still calmly hovering nearby, Patriot says, “I’ll take an enchilada plate with red sauce, smothered, refried beans, black beans, and some rice, por favor, Margarite. Oh, and uno cerveza, por favor.”

She smiles and taps in the order on her device, “Sure thing, Pat. And for the rest of you?”

March 13th, Day 7 - Thursday, Time is 6:15 PM PST - Mid-City, Heywood, Mid-City, The Black Piranha Bar & Grill, X00105:4.Y00272:01.Z00385:00, South Night City Integrate.

All right. That'll be cool but I have more for you to include. I'm making a post now.

He's good enough. A little bruised still but otherwise operational.

Stardate 2365.05.16 (Sunday) - Impact minus 55:48
USS Peregrine, Deck 3, Mess Hall - 09:45

Scrambled eggs—three to be exact—with melted sharp cheddar cheese and pico de mayo bunched up next to four pieces of thick-cut apple maple bacon and a thick waffle covered in melted sweet butter and maple syrup send tendrils of tantalizing aromas to tickle his nostrils. A little blurry-eyed, Ander reaches across the meal and lifts the piping white mug bearing the Starfleet logo to just below his lips, for a moment allowing the aromatic aroma of sweetened coffee to join the symphony of scents.

"Even with a full cycle of sleep," the COO states with a gentle smile on his lips, his eyes closed, "the smell of coffee will wake you up."

Across from the Latino man sits a blue-skinned Andorian with a blue and black uniform. Ferrero knows enough about Andorians to know that they don't need nearly the amount of sleep that humans do. I wonder if he even knows what being sleep deprived feels like, Ander muses, opening his eyes to meet the scientist's gaze.

"Yes, well," he pauses to sip the hot liquid, "enough of the small talk. Ops has been scouring the communications and it's a little all over the place. Tell me your department has had better luck."

Stardate 2365.05.16 (Sunday) - Impact minus 51:07
USS Peregrine, Deck 5 - 1435

Ander stares at the PADD in hand, frowning at the stream of reports from Alpha shift when O'Connor arrives and approaches him. He sees her from the corner of his eye and looks up to receive her salute.

"Petty Officer Frist Class Aoife O'Connor reporting, sir. Petty Officer Amai is medically indisposed, sure. Herself is on the way to Doctor Veen now; the poor lass 'as a terrible headache on her, so I'd be standing her Ops watch today."

Lieutenant Ferrero straightens and his face brightens at the sight of her. "Poor, Mr. Amai," he says with an inappropriate amount of cheer, "But it's jodidamente bueno that she has such a helpful roommate. Take your post, Mr. O'Connor."

"Aye, sir," O'Connor replies.

Stardate 2365.05.16 (Sunday) - Impact minus 47:59
USS Peregrine, Deck 1, Bridge - 1829

Aoife swallows, takes a breath, and speaks aloud. "Lieutenant Ferrero," she opens, "I've a broadcast found tha' ye need to hear, sir."

Ander turns his heavily-hooded gaze towards the woman and responds, the PADD he's still reviewing now resting on his left knee while he sits in the captain's chair. "Oh? Please tell me it's a stand-up comedy routine that's actually funny."

"This message is being sent every half hour," she explains. Aoife presses a button and translated audio fills the bridge.

=/= Attention, space-faring beings. We, the citizens of Archin, know that we are not alone in this universe. There is no possibility that so many habitable planets exist in our galaxy with no other intelligent life on them. We may not yet see you, but we know that you are there.

Our world will be destroyed by an asteroid that we cannot prevent. But if you are here and receiving this broadcast, then you surely possess the technology to do so. 

Please, we beg of you. Save our children. Save our species. Save our world. =/=

"Tha's all of it," Aoife pronounces as the audio falls silent, her alto voice even lower and more husky than normal. "They're askin' for our help, sure, sir."

Ander blinks rapidly, absorbing the message, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Well... eso no le gana a todo ..." of course, the crew is going to want more than that. "Mr. Reid, where is Archin located and what do we know of it?"

(OOC: Assuming a report...)

"And the origin of the broadcast, Mr. O'Connor?" he turns his inquisitive gaze towards the Petty Officer.

(OOC: Assuming a report...)

"Do we know anything at all about the gato who's voice we're hearing?" This question, he leaves hanging in the air for anyone to respond to. "And how long have they known about the asteroid? Anyone have any idea about that one?"

He wants to have answers before he reaches out to Captain Drake. 

Cipher and Blossom would have about four to five hours to begin their search using the digital footprint Ghlahn has provided. Or, they can wait until after their meeting with Patriot. I need to know Cipher's plan before I make my next post. 

Answers:

1. Patriot was originally brought on by Charlie to assist in the Jeannette gig but seeing how the direction was adjusted with Ghlahn's enclave biz, he's going to bum along.


2. Tann... I update your sheet with the correct Giri based on all of the NuCybe he has on the sheet.


3. I already added the handgun bonus, Tann. He's had the handgun bonus represented on the sheet for some time now so you should be all up-to-date.


4. Espatier, Charlie's search for a vacant apartment within 5 miles of his own has come up empty. He can check again tomorrow.

Now, quickly about the medical stuff...

1. Vegas donated 1,000c.


2. Blossom donates 1,000c.


3. Cipher is broke.


4. Guardian is broke.


5. Charlie...?


6. Echo...?


7. Casino...?


8. Fixer...?


9. Ghlahn...?

The total of what Guardian has requested is as follows:

• 1 dose of Trauma-1 (60c/dose)


• 1 Hypercoagulin (97c/dose)


• 3 Jetwash (81c/dose = 243c)


• 3 Boneglue (25c/dose = 75c)


• 3 Tissueglue (25c/dose = 75c)


• Antibacterial Bandages (10c)


• Medicine Gauze Bandages (25c)


• Antiseptic Disposable Wet Wipes (5c)


• Biactine (35c)


• Antisceptic Solution (20c)

Totalling: 645c

Charlie also suggested that the team upgrade the truck to better assist. Keep in mind, the truck could fit everyone if the bed had seats like the old personnel carriers (running down the sides over the wheel wells). So, in terms of upgrades that are in line with the medical requests there are also these options:

• Automedic: Basic (1kg, 3 drugs, 70%, +1 FA) ...... 300eb


• Automedic: Basic w/internal Biomonitor (100%) .... 420eb


• Automedic: Deluxe (2.5kg, 5 drugs, +2/3 FA) ..... 1000eb


• Dermal Stapler .................................................... 1000eb


• Tissue Glue (+3 First Aid) ....................................... 25eb/use


• Spray Skin .............................................................. 50eb


• Slap Patch .......................................................... by drug


• Bodyweight Life Support (72 hours, 2kg) ............... 500eb


• Portable Intern Unit (+2 Diagnose, +1 Stabilize) .. 1200eb


• Portable Cryogenic Case (24hr, SP 10, 2kg) ......... 250eb


• Limb Preservation/Transport Unit (+1D6 value) ...... 500eb


• Blood Substitute (3 pints: +1 Stabilize) ........... 150eb/pint


• Bodyweight Synthetic Blood (as above)........... 200eb/pint

To assist with netrunning there are these options:

• Actual cyberdecks instead of just the deck chip. The more expensive the deck, the more AI assistance the netrunner receives (bonuses to Interface/Programming) and the more programs it can hold.
  
  
  
  • Poor Quality Cyberdeck (1000c) 5 program slots, +0 Interface/Program/Library Search
  
  
  • Average Cyberdeck (2500c) 7 program slots, +2 Interface/Program/Library Search
  
  
  • Excellent Quality Cyberdeck (8,000c) 9 program slots, +4 Interface/Program/Library Search
  
  
  
  


• Actual Desktops are still more powerful than your portable devices but are way more expensive.
  
  
  
  • Poor Quality Desktop (1,200c) 6 program slots, +0 Interface/Program/Library Search
  
  
  • Average Desktop (3,500c) 8 program slots, +3 Interface/Program/Library Search
  
  
  • Excellent Quality Desktop (10,000c) 12 program slots, +5 Interface/Program/Library Search
  
  
  
  


• Chipreader (For Cyberdecks) (10 chips, 1 option slot) ....................... 150c


• Chipreader (For Desktops) (20 chips, 5 option slot) ....................... 450c


• EXPERT Skill Progs (level 4- ..................200+100eb/+1


• Voice Stress Analyzer (+2 HP/Interro, -3 options) ......... 200eb


• Lie Detector (65-75%, -3 options) .................................. 400c


• Bug Detector (6m, 80%, -2 options) .............................. 200c


• Bug Jammer (10m, 80%, -1 option) ............................. 200c


• Radar Detector (60%, -2 options) .................................. 150c


• Bug/Line Tap Signal Tracker (80%, -2 options) .............. 300c


• Medscanner (+1 Diagnose, -5 options) .......................... 250c


• Techscanner (60%, -3 diff, -5 options) ........................... 250c


• Drug Analyzer (75%, -4 options)...................................... 75c


• Credit Transactor Package (-1 option) ............................. 250c

If you want to get seats and a cover for the truck bed making it capable of transporting all of you, you're looking at 900c for the shell and 700c apiece (1,400c for both sides). Then Fixer would have to install them which may cost another couple hundred eddies in rental equipment if he doesn't already have what's necessary.

Computer death is something to mourn. Good to see there are still some Peregrinians who are ready to rock n' roll.

EVERYONE

March 13th, Day 7 - Thursday, Time is 12:30 PM PST - Mid-City, Edgerunner Enclave (China Town), Charlie’s Apartment X00050:2.Y00310:08.Z00410:15, South Night City Integrate.

Weather Conditions: High City (Windy, Temperature: Very Strong | High: 85°F (29.4°C) | Low: 72°F (22.2°C) | Wind Force: Very Strong | Wind Speed: 35 mph (56.3 kph) | Very Strong Wind: Strong gusts of wind that impose a -4 penalty on Awareness checks and certain ranged weapon attacks. Such gusts automatically extinguish unprotected flames. Flying vehicles struggle with a -2 penalty. | Midcity (Windy, Temperature: Very Hot | High: 98°F (36.6°C) - (Very Hot: A character in very hot conditions (above 90°F) must make a CON check each hour (DC 16) or take 1d4 points of Stun Damage. Characters wearing heavy clothing or armor of any sort take a -4 penalty on their checks. A character with the Survival skill may receive a bonus and may be able to apply this bonus to other characters as well. A character who takes any Stun damage from heat exposure now suffers from heatstroke and is fatigued. These penalties end when the character recovers the Stun damage she took from the heat. Stun damage from heat exposure cannot be recovered until the character gets cooled off (reaches shade, survives until nightfall, gets doused in water, is targeted by endure elements, and so forth). Once rendered unconscious through the accumulation of Stun damage, the character begins to take lethal damage at the same rate.) | Low: 83°F (28°C) | Wind Force: Strong | Wind Speed: 22 mph (35 kph) | Strong Wind: A steady wind with a 75% chance of extinguishing unprotected flames.) | Undercity (Windy, Temperature: Very High | High: 115°F (46.1°C) | Low: 101°F (38.3°C) | Wind Force: Light | Wind Speed: 9 mph (14.5 kph))

Air Quality Index: High City = 0 | Midcity = 15 | Undercity = 95 (masks required)

The team has spent the morning focusing on their various pastimes while waiting for Charlie to return from his educator responsibilities. They’ve been subsiding off of Kibble and tap water for the most part, ready fare that’s cheap and though it tastes like manufactured sugar, it’s edible. The tap water is another story altogether. 

Morning news reports indicate that the day is going to be a hot one. Undercity denizens are cautioned to stay indoors and do whatever they can to stay hydrated and cool. The air quality is horrendous in those areas but the strong winds have swept Midcity’s and Upper City’s pollution away for now. Of course, with the heatwave that’s happening, crime is up and the Daily Death Pool numbers are already climbing by the time Charlie rolls in the door.

Patriot is supposed to meet up with everyone at a dive called the Black Piranha around six that evening so everyone can catch a decent bite to eat and get to know him. The decision to knock out the gig that Glhahn has brought back from his enclave is unanimous and after a quick conversation with Patriot, Charlie confirms that the media will tag along using this run as a way to get a picture of this team’s operating abilities. The meeting with Patriot is still on.

The madpack reader is delivered by drone at a little after 1:00 PM (1300 hours) and Fixer uses his skillset to set it up on Charlie’s kitchen counter. At first, the old device is finicky and refuses to read the disk. Fiddling with it, Fixer resolves the problem. By half-past the hour, the shadowrunners are fully aware of what’s on the disk; undoubtedly what Jeannette died for.

Presented on the backlit digital flatscreen are the schematics and plans for a high-end nano-armor and the shield and crossed assault rifles logo of ArmorTech. This armor, called the CADS Mk 2013-3, is cutting edge and like nothing that any of the team can recall seeing on the market, even for corporate operators. It’s a full body suit, complete with helmet, and all of the bells and whistles any self-respecting military would pay millions for.

“ArmorTech…” Blossom whispers as she pulls up what data she can find on the company using her wrist keyboard and deck chip. With glazed over eyes fluttering from right to left and left to right in rapid succession, she recites what she’s discovered. 

“They’re HQ’d in Vancouver, British Columbia,” she delivers in a monotone, “They have known contracts with Militech… they’re big, chooms, like really big. Not as big as Militech, but big enough, and we’ve got the plans to their latest toy. I’ve got press releases from February twenty-fifth and back. Looks like they first announced this CADS armor back in April of last year and their shareholder reports indicate that they’re planning on revealing the final product at the end of the month—like, this month. They’ve got this big media event already scheduled for the eighteenth. Militech brass’ll be there, Orbital Air, Net 54… and the list goes on.”

Cipher hasn’t been sitting idle either. Downloading the data to a physical disk is risky. A search through the installed ICE shows that there are multiple failsafes in place from extremely skilled white hats to wipe the disk completely should any copying be attempted. It’s strong enough of a defense that the netrunner quickly concludes copying the disk is unviable. 

It is through this investigation that Cipher triggers a subroutine containing some recorded communication media files. When playing these back, Vegas immediately recognizes Jeannette’s voice as one of those speaking. After listening to all of the audio it is apparent that Vegas’s savior was working a black ops side job. Her team (the details of which are entirely omitted) procured the CADS plans and have arranged to sell them to an operation called ESPerSRI, who’s representative is a male simply calling himself the Agent. In the final audio track, Jeannette reveals her hand and demands an additional fifty-percent more than the previously agreed upon number (which also isn’t revealed), stating that the danger of the transaction has multiplied. The Agent wasn’t happy with the demand, his tone icy and clipped but level and calm.

“The plans for this suit have got to be worth millions to the right buyer,” Blossom breathes, rightfully in awe of what the team has in their possession. “This is the Show, chooms. We get this deal done—we find a buyer—and we can all retire on our own private islands.”

There’s still a lot to figure in, of course. Fixer could spend hours going over the specs for the suit to get the details on just what it’s capable of. Questions are raised, discussion held, and further Net research performed. Eventually, it’s time to relocate to the Black Piranha to meet their newest team member.

Careful not to share any information about their treasure anywhere in public that might be overheard, the group arrives at the dive that sits just off of one of the blocked canals that used to penetrate deep into the California landscape before the Arasaka Tower Incident. 

Charlie’s truck wouldn’t carry the entire party, and the mess that the fixer had to deal with when closing out the van rental deal (the details of which he kept entirely to himself) were enough to warrant the use of public transportation. A couple of buses put the troupe within walking distance.

The heat of the day hammers the team with relentless, angry fire. Jackets and double-layer clothing has to be shed unless it consists of smart tech that cools the wearer using their own sweat as a power source. Even then, all second layer clothing is carried.

Outside of the Black Piranha the adjacent parking lot is home to a number of homeless. Tents are erected in a ramshackle maze of stinking community, though even as the evening hours loom on the horizon, the occupants are deep in the shaded protection of their abodes. Some of the more drugged out or brain fried citizens of Night City lie near the doorway or stumble along like zombies back and forth in front of the establishment. Whether it’s the sheer number of the company, or the capable appearance that they carry themselves with, the team is unmolested as they make their march from the bus stop inside the bar and grill. 

A blast of cooler air strikes their faces, chilling the sweat on their skill, accompanied by the dubious aroma of cooking meat. Cyberoptics quickly adjust to the dimmed lighting revealing a deep establishment with a podium near the door covered in stickers promoting various lifestyle products, a couple of vending machines ready to dispense flavor-cigs, condemns, and other oddities pertaining to hygiene. The kitchen is in the back, out of sight; enclosed booths run the length of the walls, each with ratty padded benches that wrap about in a broad U-shape and scarred laminate-covered tables. The decor is Latino with brightly colored art and murals covering the walls. Most of the tables are filled, and the patrons look to be a mix of gang members and locals. As the hostess approaches, an average-sized black man with dreaded TechHair® cuts her off. His long black dreads descend past his shoulders, with strands of glowing red woven through the braids. He wears a thin mustache and small goatee and has a charismatic and good-looking face. He moves confidently with eyes that dart about capturing the world around him. A light tattoo is emblazoned on his right forearm and is a simple rendition of Lady Justice. Another light tattoo is displayed on his left bicep and is a Kanji.

“It’s okay,” he says in a slight Jamaican accent, “They’re with me.” 

The hostess nods, smiles a welcome, and glides back towards the kitchen. The tattooed man stops directly in front of the team, particularly face-to-face with Charlie, and smiles a brilliant white toothy grin. 

“They serve a preem enchilada, choom,” he spreads his arms wide in his own welcome and turns slightly to motion the group forward. “I have us set up in the conference room just back there.”

Once everyone is seated in a chamber where the Latino music is just loud enough to drown out any quiet conversation except for those who have enhanced hearing, a waitress arrives through the only door in or out of the room. Orders are placed (the cost is between eight and twenty credits), along with any beverages including beer (the cost is between two-fifty and five credits), and the waitress vanishes back through the door.

“Well, then,” the black man grins and looks around the table in a charismatic way. “You’ve likely figured out that I’m Patriot, but I’m going to need some names to associate with faces as Cred Stick Charlie hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with that information.”

Holding up his right hand, he quickly adds, “We're free to discuss our biz here. I’ve never had any problems here.”  

(OOC: March 13th, Day 7 - Thursday, Time is 6:15 PM PST - Mid-City, The Black Piranha Bar & Grill, X00105:4.Y00272:01.Z00385:00, South Night City Integrate.)

I've sent it back with a few edits/suggestions, Tann.

I'm moving things forward to the meeting with Patriot.

Things to consider:

1. Ghlahn's the one who has been enlightened as to the details of this run, but there's been plenty of opportunities for him to share the deets with one of the de facto leaders of the group. I'll share the details with those who should have it so they may be shared in-game.
   
   
   
   1. In that vein, it was previously decided that Casino would manage the combat leadership and Charlie the rest. Well, now Vegas is back and Vegas actually has the Leadership perk, so you lot need to decide if Casino is stepping back as a combat lieutenant in favor of Vegas's leadership, if Vegas is the acting leader in all situations due to his Leadership perk, if it doesn't matter and you lot are going to keep operating as you've been doing, etc. 
   
   
   
   


2. Tann, there are some outstanding things in the post that you and Mischief put together that should be resolved but don't really affect the current position of the game.


3. Feel free to back-post to the "discovery" of what's on the microdisk in your next posts as well.

Thank you for the posts. I hadn't intended to get bogged down with all of the mundane things such as purchases and upgrades. This next post of mine will move the group into an actionable position again. The biggest issues that need to be resolved in my mind are as follows:

1. Is the group interested in Ghlahn's gig? If so, it is time-sensitive and will need to be complete first, before pursuing the madpack investigation.


2. What's the total amount of money being put towards the group medical supplies and who is it coming from? I need to update the character sheets.


3. Is any mullah going towards potentially upgrading/purchasing gear for the truck as kind of a mobile Netrunner/MedTech bay? If so, how much and who is it coming from?

I'd have to look back into my notes, Tann. I do my utmost to make sure that the sheets are up-to-date but I could have missed something. I'll look into it when I have the time.

I have posts from Keeper, Espatier, Dragon-Soul, and Hammer. That leaves Tann, Nomad, Mischief, and CameToPlay remaining. May I please get posts from you four?

So, I posted but when I went to add a logbook event for the 16th, it shows a blank page. Just an FYI. I don't think I entered anything out of format but I'm getting old and forgetful. I'm not ruling it out.

Stardate 2365.05.15 (Saturday) - Impact minus 73:04
USS Peregrine, Deck 1, Officers’ Lounge - 1630

...And then Lieutenant Ferrero spoke his piece. 

Silas feels his knees weaken a bit, hearing a ringing in his ears. He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Starfleet Command will be asking the same questions. The Prime Directive is clear—they are not to interfere in the natural development of a world, even if that includes the death of the civilization. 

The Captain takes a breath before responding. "You raise fair questions, Lieutenant Ferrero. In today's most literal interpretations of the Prime Directive, no. There are strong arguments to be made that we should not interfere here. If the asteroid wipes out all life, so be it."

Drake looks around the table. "The problem I have is this: the disaster here is through no fault of the Calicans. This is not some development of their society, this is nothing more than a cruel chance event."

Silas shakes his head. "Were the Cailcans warp-capable and asking for help, we would administer it and no one would hesitate to consider our actions. But because they lag a couple of hundred years behind us in technology, they deserve extinction? I'm having a very difficult time with that concept, Lieutenant."

The Captain's expression grows harder. "So, as I have stated, I wish to find a way for us to save those seven billion lives while upholding the Prime Directive. Forgive me, but I am not particularly interested at this moment to discuss why that unthinkable number of innocent people needs to perish. If there is literally nothing that we can do..." his voice trails off, and an awkward silence hangs in the air for several long moments. "Until we exhaust all options, I want us to keep looking for a way," he adds.

Ferrero determinedly keeps his face void of expression. So, we're bending the rules then. He had known about Captain Drake's penchant for bending the rules to fit his personal morals before the Lieutenant had ever received the assignment as COO of the Peregrine. The whole court-martial had been prime-time news throughout the Federation. At first, Ander had considered the assignment fortuitous thinking that Drake's lenient view of Starfleet rules would allow him to expand his little black market operation. Sitting in senior officer meetings with Drake, he'd quickly learned that the man's position about rules and law shifted about like the oceans his ancestor sailed. Easier? Far from it. Ander has never walked so gingerly.

One final look around the room and Drake speaks with finality, "You have your orders. Dismissed."

Stardate 2365.05.15 (Saturday) - Impact minus 73:12
USS Peregrine, Deck 1, Officers’ Lounge - 1638

As Esel finishes booking the Holodeck the COO catches up with him in the corridor. 

 "Long-range scans will easily pick up any communications from this distance. I'll filter through the feeds and take the Calicanian's temperature. If you want to run the math on any large visual interference with the asteroid by Calicanians, we can compare notes tomorrow."

"large visual interference?" The CSO repeats back to the COO not quite grasping the meaning of what has been said. After a moment's hesitation where he stares at Ander, Ferrero can see the light dawning in the Andorian's eyes.

"Of course... emitted light particles... Radiation? Vaporization of heavy metals? So close to the planet... " Esel turns away still muttering to himself as he mulls over the implications of what had been said, he turns back towards the COO failing to notice the concerned expression on the 3rd officer's brown face.

"Thank you, Sir, we shall run the numbers." 

"Okay...," Ander responds and watches the man wander off for a couple of seconds. With a slow shake of his head, the Chief Operations Officer starts on his way to his quarters, his right hand rubbing out the myriad of thoughts bouncing around in his head.

Stardate 2365.05.15 (Saturday) - Impact minus 72:57
USS Peregrine, Deck 2, Chief Operations Officer's Quarters - 1645

Seated behind the small desk in his quarters, Ander sighs. His screen shows multiple notifications ranging from standard department reports to communications from his family and friends. Within the cornucopia of messages, a number is encoded and bears specific black market operations details, orders, and offers. Drawing in a deep breath, he swipes the notifications aside and pulls up the communications system controls, then splits the screen horizontally and adds the sensors controls to the display. Using the sensor arrays, he boosts the reception of the communication bands and broadens the cone. Shortly thereafter, the radio waves being dispersed about Calican II begin to filter through his room speakers.

Settling back in his chair, Ander closes his eyes and concentrates on the streams. Verbally commanding the computer to filter out all but the emergency newscasts, he settles in for a long evening.

Stardate 2365.05.16 (Sunday) - Impact minus 56:03
USS Peregrine, Deck 2, Chief Operations Officer's Quarters - 0930

A sonic shower behind him and fully dressed for his day, Ander is all but refreshed by his five hours of sleep. Peering at the weary expression staring back at him from the mirror he allows a dramatic and heavy sigh to escape his lips before straightening and vigorously shaking his whole body. 

"Wakey wakey," he repeats over and over again until he's amused himself enough to elicit a smile. Clapping his hands together, Ferrero rubs them with fervor and commands, "Computer, connect me with Lieutenant Ch'ronoss."

/= Connecting to Lieutenant Ch'ronoss now, sir. /=

"Lieutenant Ch'ronoss," Ander says cheerfully, "Have you eaten yet?"

Receiving the CSO's answer, Ferrero continues, "How do you feel about meeting me for some food and reviewing our findings?"

(OOC: Assuming some kind of affirmative.)

"Great! I'll see you in fifteen."

Whew! Now I don't feel so bad about being slow to post. I shall do my best to post tomorrow.

I am back having spent the last eight days in Costa Rica, so what do I need to be made aware of before I post an update for Ander?

I just read the posts to date and I feel like we need to insert a series of "your mama is so fat" jokes to accompany the gravity well idea.  I'll do my best to have a post up forthwith.

Thanks for your patience, everyone. I'm back now and thank goodness. I don't like extreme heat at all and I hate wearing a mask everywhere I go so I'm very happy to be home.

Answers:

1. Housing: There are multiple enclaves for each alt-cult throughout Night City. After all, the city stretches along practically the entire California coastline. Despite this, there's a severe housing shortage so the pricing I listed for housing is pretty standard for enclave members. Housing outside of enclaves may even be more expensive depending on which corporation owns the building or section of the building and what amenities they offer. Charlie has worked out a deal for his apartment with the enclave wherein he also provides a much-needed service for the enclave as a whole. He pays 1,600c per month for it which includes the "discount" he received for his services. He also pays an additional 200c per month for the parking stall his truck uses and another 300c per month for utilities.


2. Grenades: As Keeper stated, those grenades weren't available for the last job. Charlie has managed to find sellers this time around since they weren't taken off the team wishlist. You're correct in that the only grenade launcher at this point is the one attached to Casino's gun.


3. Cipher is kinda in the same boat as Guardian. She is broke... ish. So, there isn't much she can purchase with her own funds right now. Cipher can work on writing programs of her own. This is the way she's gained most of her programs as it is much cheaper though it takes time.


4. Charlie's money is all in credits and is held in his legit cred chip account. Those funds have been updated to include the payment from the last gig.


5. If the team is intent on pooling money and making sure that you're all outfitted properly and prepared for the worst-case scenario, Guardian has requested a number of medical items (Charlie, Ghlahn, and Blossom have already said they're good with this path).


6. Chips: Casino wasn't able to get those two chips the first time around. Charlie has been able to find sellers for the items I've outlined this time around. It has been a couple of days since he first looked, after all.


7. Netrunning Equipment (in answer to Charlie's question): More to come...


8. Medical Equipment (in answer to Charlie's question and assuming he's thinking in terms of a ripper doc's setup): More to come...

I have a series of links that help me with stuff like this.

• ACTD - Advanced Starship Design Bureau | Saber-class Specs


• startrekstarchart.jpg (4486×2596)


• FederationMap20152.png (5000×4000)


• This one is for the online game but it gives me ideas... Bridge officer and kit abilities - Official Star Trek Online Wiki


• Star Trek RPG (5 uploads | Scribd


• Star Trek technobabble: The science behind the science fiction

I hope it helps. 

I used to play Asovil and dive into her department's science by hitting science blogs and paraphrasing or working premises into the posts. Star Trek is notorious for scraping the surface of science but then going their own way with it, so I none of us will judge.

Backpost, please. Keep in mind that apartments aren't cheap and finding one in an overcrowded city is tough. For example:

• Coffin/Sleep Cube..........................................40c+/night


• Red Door Inn Cubicle ........................................60c+/day


• Cheap Room ................................................... 75c+/night


• Hotel Room ................................................... 100c+/night


• Apartment/Condo (per room/person) .......................1,000c+/month


• House ........................................ 2,500c+/month (1 bed, 1 bath, 800sq ft)

1. Echo needs to respond to Blossom.


2. Casino and Echo have a conversation they need to resolve (please remember to include me on any collabs).


3. Cipher has attempted to strike up conversation with Fixer (again, include me in any collab).


4. Guardian has requested the team pool resources to fulfill their medic bag.


5. The team needs to decide what they want to do about the grenades.


6. The team needs to decide what they're going to do about the madpack disc reader.

I will be out of town all next week. I'm not back until the following Tuesday. I may be a little slow on my response time. Just an FYI. I look forward to seeing your posts!

To help with your financial understanding, here's what everyone has. I've abbreviated the currency type. Cash money is localized currency specific to Night City (so, basically California). It's called Night City Dollars (NCD). The credit (think digital currency like Bitcoin only worth a standard U.S. Dollar with some slight inflation. Credits, eddies, or just c.

• Charlie: 2,558.17c


• Ghlahn: 923.30c & 51.42 NCD (cash)


• Casino: 2,967c & 3.42 NCD (cash)


• Vegas: 2,000c & 234 NCD (cash)


• Echo: 415c & 63.42 NCD (cash)


• Cipher: 28c


• Guardian: 32 NCD (cash)


• Fixer: 150c & 198.42 NCD (cash)


• Blossom: 2,000c & 194.42 NCD (cash)


• --------------------------------------------


• Total Group Funds: 11,041.47c & 777.10 NCD (cash) = 11,818.57

Vegas, Charlie, and Blossom haven't purchased upgrades or gear at all. Just an FYI. So, as the GM, I'll be looking at Blossom to see what could benefit her, Hammer and Espatier both have the right to look into what will benefit their characters.

EVERYONE

March 11th, Day 5 - Tuesday, Time is 06:30 AM PST - Mid-City, Edgerunner Enclave (China Town), Charlie’s Apartment X00050:2.Y00310:08.Z00410:15, South Night City Integrate.

Weather Conditions: High City (Cloudy, Temperature: Moderate | High: 80°F | Low: 65°F | Wind Force: Medium | Wind Speed: 12 mph from the Southwest) | Midcity (Cloudy, Temperature: Moderate | High: 86°F (30°C) | Low: 68°F (20°C) | Wind Force: Light | Wind Speed: 6 mph (9 kph) from the Southwest) | Undercity (Cloudy, Temperature: Hot| High: 95°F | Low: 58°F | Wind Force: None | Wind Speed: 0 mph)

Air Quality Index: High City = 0 | Midcity = 45 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

Early on the second day of rest, Ghlahn approaches Charlie as he’s getting ready to go teach his class. "I need to step out for a bit,” the Capore Steel solo says. “Gonna meet up with friends.  Might be gone overnight but not sure. Will let you know." 

Ghlahn is off to visit with his alt-cult and see if there are any tasks he can work on while the others rest or even as they press on with their next job. This decision places Ghlahn a good eight hours away should the team have need of him. Four hours out and four back traveling at high speed the whole way. Ghlahn decides to rent a car. He doesn’t bother Charlie with this detail and makes his selection while the rest of the team remains asleep, except Echo, who’s tech allows her to go without much sleep at all. With the nomad knowing his destination as well as Charlie, the CEE-metal makes his exit.

"You can reach me on my agent when everyone is rested, the plan is set and you are ready to move." Gathering his belongings, he heads out the door in search of a car rental place. 

When everyone else wakes up, Ghlahn is gone and Charlie is teaching his class leaving the remainder alone in the apartment. Blossom had an idea overnight. When seeking old tech, where better to search than amongst those who rely on older technologies? 

“Echo,” Blossom says as though she just found a secret decoder ring in a box of cereal, “do you think your tribe has a madpack they’ll loan or sell us?”

(OOC: Echo needs to respond… this can be a whole back post conversation if it turns out to be needed.

The lot of them are in the main living area of the domicile. Blossom is seated cross-legged on the only armchair in the room, calling her question across to the kitchen bar where Cipher sits on a stool, Roosevelt at her feet. Fixer and Guardian are also at the counter, and Echo is cradling Casino on the couch when Vegas makes his way from the bathroom to lean against the entertainment console across from his partner.

"Hey Pal,” the solo asks, “did I get out of this scrape with any gig money... or just with my life?"

“Sh*t,” the other wounded man declares his face flushing with immediate embarrassment as he winces a little to sit up from a reclining against Echo. “I’d forgotten, choom. I’ll transfer the eddies pronto.” He fishes out his new agent works the transaction.

"Thanks Pal," Vegas replies in a semi-weak voice. "If I don't make it through the next waltz... then help yourself to whatever possessions I may have that make it through the fire that may consume me."

Vegas manages a weak wave of his hand towards his long-time friend, before finding a place of semi-solitude to settle down. It’s Blossom who hops up from her chair to make room for the wounded man, bounce-stepping across to where Cipher is occupying herself.

Within a matter of seconds, 2,000 credits were transferred to Vegas’s account. Waiting for a moment to let Casino transfer the Frank Sinatra look-alike’s share of the run credits, Echo stops Keith from settling back against her. 

“Hey, can we talk?” she asks quietly in response to his questioning gaze.

“Sure what’s up?” The pain is forgotten for a second filled with break-up-goodbye paranoia. The big solo shifts to his feet as he and Echo head out the apartment’s front door to the hallway and then seek a landing outside and away from the rest of the group. Overlooking the interior compound of the large megastructure, Casino waits for what Echo has to say.

(OOC: Feel free to conduct a conversation in a collab post and share it with me before you post it here.)

On her third time wishing for braindance in the past hour, Cipher turned to Fixer leaving Blossom to play with Roosevelt. With all the subtlety she cared to have in her bored state, the netrunner asks, "So you always run with these big guns or is this a new team for you too?"

(OOC: This too can be a collab conversation.)

'Hey, guys,” Guardian pipes up after having spent some time in a state of euphoric window shopping on his agent. “I hate asking for handouts but the thing is...,” he starts awkwardly. “I'm broke. This is my first gig with you and I'm kinda stuck for cash but I've seen several items I know will come in handy. Sorry to just put this on you guys,” he apologizes with a somewhat embarrassed look and a sheepish grin. “I'll pay you guys back when I get more cash, I promise. So...help a MedTech out, please? Here's the list.” He flicks the details of his list to all nearby receiving agents so they can all see it.

The List:

• 1 dose of Trauma-1


• 1 Hypercoagulin


• 3 Jetwash


• 3 Boneglue


• 3 Tissueglue


• Antibacterial Bandages


• Medicine Gauze Bandages


• Antiseptic Disposable Wet Wipes


• Biactine


• Antisceptic Solution

Blossom is the first to reply, “Hey, med-gear benefits the whole team. It isn’t like you’re planning on moonlighting with Trauma Team on the side and using the goods that are meant to serve us. I say, we pool what resources we have and outfit our blonde Saving Grace over there with what he thinks we might need. What say you all, chooms?”

(OOC: You’ll all need to decide what you’re going to do here.)

The rest of that day rolls by with the ponderous pace of a snail. Late into Tuesday night, Ghlahn returns from his foray into Death Valley. Luther stays busy working his business and tending to the needs of the team as best he can. Cipher and Blossom each spend time deep-diving the Net in search of additional information about madpacks and various readers. Funny enough, the two strike on the same possible seller at the exact same time late Tuesday night on a local free-market site in the Dark Web.

The seller’s name is Gr33n3Myst3ryG3nT and after a bit of back and forth, he’s willing to sell his madpack for 500 eddies. Delivery could be made by drone and the team would have the device by early Wednesday morning. Charlie cautions against rushing into things since he’s still putting feelers out for the parts Fixer would need to make a reader, and the team decides on one more day before doing what they have to do.

EVERYONE

March 12th, Day 6 - Wednesday, Time is 01:30 PM PST - Mid-City, Edgerunner Enclave (China Town), Charlie’s Apartment X00050:2.Y00310:08.Z00410:15, South Night City Integrate.

Weather Conditions: High City (Windy, Temperature: Moderate | High: 78°F (25.5°C) | Low: 69°F (20.5°C) | Wind Force: Strong | Wind Speed: 22 mph (35.4 kph) | Strong Wind: A steady wind with a 75% chance of extinguishing unprotected flames.) | Midcity (Windy, Temperature: Moderate | High: 87°F (30°C) | Low: 77°F (25°C) | Wind Force: Moderate | Wind Speed: 12 mph (19 kph) | Moderate Wind: A steady wind with a 50% chance of extinguishing unprotected flames.) | Undercity (Windy, Temperature: High | High: 98°F (36.6°C) | Low: 91°F (32.7°C) | Wind Force: Light | Wind Speed: 6 mph (9.6 kph))

Air Quality Index: High City = 0 | Midcity = 35 | Undercity = 70 (masks required)

Charlie is away in the morning teaching his class. When Guardian checks on Vegas’s injuries, he concludes that there isn’t anything he can do to help the solo without more medical supplies. Casino, on the other hand, is someone Guardian can help, redressing the wound in the man’s arm, cleaning it out, and setting it up again is a production but the solo is already starting to feel a little better. Another day and the Medtech feels that the big guy’s wound can be considered a light wound. 

When Charlie returns to the apartment, he has some news. Though he hasn’t been able to find the parts Fixer may need priced low enough to make it worthwhile, he was able to haggle Gr33n3Myst3ryG3nT down significantly. The new asking price of the working madpack reader is 370 eddies. (OOC: You folks need to decide if you’re going to purchase this or keep looking for parts.) He’s also found sellers for multiple items on the wish list. He has a number of grenade variants available should Glhahn or Casino wish to pursue purchases. These are…

• 40mm Launched Grenades (R, 50eb apiece base, range: 200m/100eb up to 1600m, 5 meter radius.)

• HEDP or High-Explosive Anti-Tank Double Armor Penetration Grenade (4d10 HEAT/4d6 HEAT outside of 1-meter radius from impact location, 5-meter radius (x4 eb)

• Illumination Grenade (20 meter x 20 meter space lit up. (x.5 eb + 5eb to add a parachute)

• Bean Bag grenades (2d6 damage; Stun -5, +1/15 SP; 20+ REF roll, -1 Diff/100kg of target, 50m range (50 eb apiece))

• WP or White Phosphorous (4d6x3 damage, 10m radius (x2 eb))

• Flash-Bang (Stun -2, stun+deaf 4 turns. 5 meter by 15-meter area (50 eb apiece))

• HEP or High-Explosive Phosphorus (7d6 HEP damage, SP -5, -1 WA, DC 20+ REF or blind 2 turns. 25m range (x2 eb))

• Grapnel grenade ((30eb+) 1/2 range, WA -2, 1d6 dam, Catch 50%))

• Net grenade (25 meter range, WA -5, 1d6 damage + 50% wrap, 20+ REF or 25+ BOD to escape net (50 eb))

• Splatshell grenade (1d6+1 damage, 5 meter by 2 meter to a 15 meter x 6 meter pattern, (10eb+))

• Spray Paint grenades (Blind for 1d6/3 turns REF DC 20+, 4-meter area, (20eb))

• EMP grenade (Disorient 10 sec. BODY DC 20+, Those with Cyberoptics and/or Cyberaudio 4/10min BODY DC 22+, 5-meter area, (75 eb)) 

Ghlahn’s smart clothes are ready to be picked up and the Capore Steel and Echo go about spending a few hours of the day collecting their latest purchases. The Nomad collecting her 

SmartPlate Linked Mustang Arms "Mark II" Heavy Pistol from the weaponsmith and her Midnight Arms Smart Gloves from Charlie’s contact. Charlie is also able to produce Fixer’s Electronic Security Chip, his Electronics Chip, his Cybertech Chip. He also connects Fixer with a ripperdoc that installs Nasal Filters cybertech, Bug Detector Cyberaudio Option, Level Damper Cyberaudio Option. While he’s out, Charlie arranges a nice little discount on a battle mask for the techie.

Charlie spends some personal time on his business as well. Following up with Yo Suk-Chul, to drop off some shoes (Passports) that Charlie has procured, he completes the transaction and is able to mark it off on his “books”. He’s able to touch base with Feathers, and connect with Kelsey Dawn to round out his business affairs. He settles on what he’s going to do about Blackbird2500 and the Gearlogix 24B290 Thermal Printer with a Hologenics Modular Printbox attachment, finalizing that deal, and he arranges a time for Patriot to meet up with the group for introductions.

EVERYONE

March 13th, Day 7 - Thursday, Time is 12:30 PM PST - Mid-City, Edgerunner Enclave (China Town), Charlie’s Apartment X00050:2.Y00310:08.Z00410:15, South Night City Integrate.

Weather Conditions: High City (Windy, Temperature: Very Strong | High: 85°F (29.4°C) | Low: 72°F (22.2°C) | Wind Force: Very Strong | Wind Speed: 35 mph (56.3 kph) | Very Strong Wind: Strong gusts of wind that impose a -4 penalty on Awareness checks and certain ranged weapon attacks. Such gusts automatically extinguish unprotected flames. Flying vehicles struggle with a -2 penalty. | Midcity (Windy, Temperature: Very Hot | High: 98°F (36.6°C) - (Very Hot: A character in very hot conditions (above 90°F) must make a CON check each hour (DC 16) or take 1d4 points of Stun Damage. Characters wearing heavy clothing or armor of any sort take a -4 penalty on their checks. A character with the Survival skill may receive a bonus and may be able to apply this bonus to other characters as well. A character who takes any Stun damage from heat exposure now suffers from heatstroke and is fatigued. These penalties end when the character recovers the Stun damage she took from the heat. Stun damage from heat exposure cannot be recovered until the character gets cooled off (reaches shade, survives until nightfall, gets doused in water, is targeted by endure elements, and so forth). Once rendered unconscious through the accumulation of Stun damage, the character begins to take lethal damage at the same rate.) | Low: 83°F (28°C) | Wind Force: Strong | Wind Speed: 22 mph (35 kph) | Strong Wind: A steady wind with a 75% chance of extinguishing unprotected flames.) | Undercity (Windy, Temperature: Very High | High: 115°F (46.1°C) | Low: 101°F (38.3°C) | Wind Force: Light | Wind Speed: 9 mph (14.5 kph))

Air Quality Index: High City = 0 | Midcity = 15 | Undercity = 95 (masks required)

The team has spent the morning focusing on their various pastimes while waiting for Charlie to return from his educator responsibilities. They’ve been subsiding off of Kibble and tap water, for the most part, ready fare that’s cheap and though it tastes like manufactured sugar, it’s edible. The tap water is another story altogether. 

Morning news reports indicate that the day is going to be a hot one. Undercity denizens are cautioned to stay indoors and do whatever they can to stay hydrated and cool. The air quality is horrendous in those areas but the strong winds have swept Midcity’s and Upper City’s pollution away for now. Of course, with the heatwave that’s happening, crime is up and the Daily Death Pool numbers are already climbing by the time Charlie rolls in the door.

The options for the afternoon are wide open. Patriot is supposed to meet up with everyone at a dive called the Black Piranha around six that evening so everyone can catch a decent bite to eat and get to know him. Aside from that appointment, there’s nothing on the docket.

(OOC: If the team has decided to purchase the reader, it would arrive by a drone that afternoon, around 1:00 PM. If not… well, rolls will need to be made today to see if parts can be found.)

(OOC: March 13th, Day 7 - Thursday, Time is 12:35 PM PST - Mid-City, Edgerunner Enclave (China Town), Charlie’s Apartment X00050:2.Y00310:08.Z00410:15, South Night City Integrate.)

Stardate 2365.05.15 - Impact minus 73:12
USS Peregrine, Deck 1, Officers’ Lounge - 1630

“Thank you all for coming on short notice,” Silas begins, his voice husky, “I apologize for intruding upon your leisure hours. Unfortunately, it could not be helped…”

“Lt Ch’ronnoss and his team have identified this asteroid as being on a collision course with Calican II,” Drake continues as the holoprojector springs to life, displaying the object labeled ‘2365 C41A3 DN17’ and its calculated trajectory, “In just over seventy-three hours, it will impact the surface of the planet and cause an extinction event. All life on the planet will be extinguished. Seven billion sentients will die.”

Ander raises his eyebrows in response though he's already seen some reports and knew about the asteroid, he hadn't seen the time frame to impact. Chewing on the inside of his right cheek, the COO slowly turns his PADD about on the table considering everything Captain Drake is saying; devouring it and consuming the data as though it is Mother's Milk. 

"The asteroid itself is challenging enough," Silas continues, "It is more than thirty-two kilometers in diameter, and rather dense.  We cannot simply tractor it away, for instance.

"But I trust that there are likely several viable solutions to prevent this catastrophe. The problem, though, is the complex question—CAN we do anything?"

Should we do anything? Ferrero adjusts the captain's question. To him, the rules have always been bendable but he had never been a department head before now and the weight of the pips on his collar and the title hanging over his head is enough to make him really consider the idea. 

Silas sighs. Tochi scowls thoughtfully at the holoprojection. Ander masticates the cowboy nature of Captain Silas Drake and how he's now witnessing first-hand the behavior that's landed the man in hot water before. He's not asking if we should. He's already made up his mind that we're going to. He's just trying to determine if it can be done while coloring in the lines, Ander concludes.

Silas presses, "The Prime Directive is very clear. All of us have sworn on our lives to uphold it. We cannot interfere in the natural course of a primitive planet's development, no matter how terrible and grim that development may seem to be.

That said," Silas says, coming to the end of the actual briefing portion of the meeting, "I am not willing to let seven billion lives end when I could have prevented it. My ideal scenario would be to come up with some way to save the inhabitants of the planet and still uphold the Prime Directive. So I have called you here to help me figure out how we can do both."

Drake glances around the table, pausing on each individual department head as he relays his orders.

"Commander Kennedy," he says, "I need to know how much longer the beacon repairs will take. You know the capabilities of the ship better than anyone, so I certainly want you brainstorming solutions to the asteroid."

His gaze turns to Ander and the COO leans forward in anticipation. "Lieutenant Ferrero," the Captain states, "I want a deeper understanding of the situation on Calican II. I want thorough, ongoing scans of the system. Work with Lieutenant Ch'ronnoss on this. Furthermore, I think that we need to analyze the communication on the planet itself, see if we can find out what they are saying. I understand that their communications are more primitive than ours; if we need to get closer to pick them up properly, let's develop the best strategy for that."

Ferrero dips his head without adding any further statement. Judging from the technology built into the satellite that he detected earlier, he doesn't imagine they need to worry about the residents of Calican II discovering them while the Peregrine's long-range scans can reach 17 light-years away, which is some 160,836,661,043,596 kilometers putting the planet well within their scope. He shelves his thoughts for the time being while focusing back on the conversation. 

"Lieutenant Taissud," Silas regards the Tactical Chief, "I want you to set up simulations to determine the outcomes if we used various weapon-based approaches to destroying or deflecting the asteroid. Phasers, torpedoes—both launched or remotely detonated. Get creative in your approach.

"Again, though, the big question remains,” Drake intones, wrapping up his assignments, “Tractor beams, weapons, shuttles, engines... none of that matters if we cannot figure out a way to make this work with the Prime Directive. So let's start talking."

Ander settles back into his chair and considers Silas's last declaration. Maybe I judged too harshly, he considers while picking upon the beginning of Tochi's suggestion. Maybe el jefe is interested in coloring within the lines this time around.

“I believe we might have an angle, of sorts, Captain,” Zai offers, his gaze flitting to Drake after another moment’s consideration of the holo and its overlays, “at the very least where operating within the Prime Directive is concerned…”

Rising from his seat, Tochi cues the display to zoom out and show a system-wide representation of Calican wherein a number of Starfleet and UFP markers are highlighted. Ander's casual gaze passes from Zai to Drake and back to Zai again as he continues to elaborate. The Captain's expression is unreadable... or, perhaps there's a little bit of hope. Ferrero has often felt a bit like a third wheel when it comes to command meetings since boarding the Peregrine. It hasn't been because the XO and Captain aren't friendly; they just have a lot of history and it is very clear to Ander that Tochi has Silas's complete trust.

“...Other than the nav-beacon we were tasked with repairing, there are a number of Federation assets within the system and at its fringes that bear consideration. We have semi-permanent culture study probes in these locations,” he says, a few markers flaring brighter at his gestures toward the display, “trained not only on Calican II but, also, a planet or two in neighboring systems…” He taps the console before him and another marker lights up, “...This is a dilithium processing and transfer station which might be adversely affected depending upon the magnitude of the asteroid’s impact with the planet; and these…” Tochi strokes a finger over the console, once more, to display a handful of trajectories through and around Calican, “...are trade routes which might feasibly be disrupted should the planet be destroyed in its entirety, resulting in a far-reaching debris field that might be troublesome for decades, if not centuries to come.

"We’ve plotted a number of intercept vectors that could possibly keep Peregrine and any support craft out of view of anything Calican II’s technology is capable of picking up on…” The holo shifts, again, to show the results of his initial calculations, “...but I’ll need further input in several areas to ascertain the effectiveness of any of these scenarios.”

His eyes turn to Callie at this point. “Commander Kennedy, we need to know the impact and ramifications that a combined tractor-tow and pressor-beam push from the Peregrine and our full contingent of Heavies might have where altering the asteroid’s course is concerned.

“Lieutenant,” his gaze ticks to Zhay-la, “I need to know what sort of yield your department can coax from a controlled spread of torpedoes in order to assist and/or enhance such an effort.”

“Mister Ferraro, Mister Ch’ronnoss,” Tochi’s attention turns to the OPS and SCI Chiefs, “estimations as to what sort of visibility and ramifications all of this might incur planet-side if you please.

And, Doctor,” he finishes, a sigh escaping him again as he turns eyes to Veen, “We imagine this might get touchy, so if you could have Medical prepped for quick response and triage if required?”

Kennedy returns to the table from where she has been conversing with her team and folds her hands neatly before her. A pallid expression is still on her face, any poker players in the room are surely capable of reading her tell. “Captain. It seems that there is an issue with the replicators and a new casing for the navigation beacon cannot be fabricated at this time. I will begin working on a fix to this problem as soon as I can. In the meantime I believe we will need to stay in the system until the repairs can be completed, it could be a day or two.”

Unblinking while speaking to Drake she finishes up by turning her stare on the XO.  

Again she bobs her head, “Yes Commander. I will begin looking into all of this immediately.”

It's now or never, Ander ruefully prepares himself, and then as casually as he can, he states, "I'm not happy about the potential genocide of an entire planet of sentients, but I'd be derelict in my duty if I didn't ask... Are we, in fact, acting within the bounds of the Prime Directive by working towards diverting the asteroid? There are certainly smarter and wiser beings in the galaxies who would be better suited to banter about the finer points of morality in our Prime Directive. Where do morality and law intersect? Especially in this case."

Ander brings his left hand up and scratches at the stubble beginning to grow on his chin as he considers the ramifications he's heard thus far. He's a people person and the idea of allowing a whole lot of people to just turn to space dust doesn't sit well with him, but risking his recently acquired position by not following the rules is also something he can even entertain. The picture of his mother's face when he had told her of his promotion is still fresh in his mind and he hates the idea of seeing that pride turn to disappointment. 

As the meeting draws to a close, Esel stands and states, “Captain, with your leave.”

Ander flows out of his seat as well accepting the dismissal of the department heads without anything more than a thoughtful dip of his head. Catching up with the CSO on their way out, Ander says, "Long-range scans will easily pick up any communications from this distance. I'll filter through the feeds and take the Calicanian's temperature. If you want to run the math on any large visual interference with the asteroid by Calicanians, we can compare notes tomorrow."

As there are no sound waves in Space, they don't need to worry about setting a disastrous sonic explosion Calican II's way that would hit the planet hundreds of years in the future. As far as Ander is concerned, the potential for disrupting the night skies was much more of a concern. 

Feature requests for the all-powerful Olan.

• Ability for senior officers and site admins to edit Trek Tools logbook entries.


• Forum thread specific search feature. The ability to search a game or QA thread for specific things would be extremely helpful. 

Just tossing these out there.

I'm glad you're okay, Tann. 

Okay, so I know that there's a lot of questions about what you should be doing at this time and I think what I'm going to do is just move us forward a couple of days to get things rolling again. Unfortunately, I'll be traveling for work all next week and won't be back until Tuesday. I may or may not be able to post in that time but I'll move us ahead before then so everyone else can get to posting again.