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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject:


The Alley Outside the Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 4:11 AM PST


Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)


Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)


“Um,” Echo closes her eyes and looks directly into Casino’s when she opens them again. “I believe them, Casino. I’ve experience with the Neo-Corps and this sounds exactly like something they’d do.” Stepping closer, she unwraps the balaclava revealing her pouty lips and smooth, tan flesh. Placing her right hand on his chest, she looks up at the solo and stands on her tiptoes to plant a passionate kiss on his lips.


Bloodbank—immersed in awkwardness at the sudden display—turns his head away. Blossom frowns and huffs impatiently.


The kiss lasts for fifteen seconds before Echo slowly pulls away and meets his eyes with a shy gaze. “I don’t want to die, Casino. And I don’t want you to die.”


Totally caught off guard, the big solo steps back not knowing what the hell just happened. Never had he expected such a public display of what is building between them, or that for her, it has reached such a level in so short a time. In this instance, Casino feels something he has not in a long time. Is it love for a daughter or a new romance with the young girl? Whatever is developing between them, she is right about one thing. The big solo also considers what would Vegas do in these circumstances? Certainly not run into an obvious trap.


Drawing in a deep, calming breath, Casino looks towards Bloodbank, the feel of Echo’s lips still on his.


“Ok you say finish the run, find the boy, yada yada. I kinda think, based on what these people know, Vegas alive or not, we need to deal with this. Starlight needs to know that she is compromised and this ain’t no rescue op no more and her ass is on the line just the same as us and we need to pool resources together as a team, her people and us.” A quick glance at Blossom to acknowledge that she had already sent off a message and he continues, “Let the B team get the boy, as I think our time would be better spent finding out who these choombas are and removing them as a direct threat to our health, than rescuing some rich kid."


Looking at all of them, awaiting their reactions, a fresh question comes to Casino’s mind, “What the hell did he mean he lost seven of his to this group? What the hell happened while I was not with you all?”


Fixer watches as Casino makes plans to run off and fetch his friend. He admires his loyalty, but fears that it is misplaced. Still, he is surprised by the display put on by Echo, but it might have saved the big man's life.


"Crap,” the techie exclaims, “Anybody really know what the hell we got ourselves into? I don't. And I don't think I can remember that many bodies. What happened in that hospital when there was a shootout? Might it be that?" He looks at Casino for a second and then shakes his head.  "It doesn't matter at the moment. We have three tasks we need to hit real fast and really efficiently. First, save the kid. Second, save Vegas. Third, deal with this neo-corp mess." He glances at Casino as he finishes, "Not necessarily in that order."


"Casino, am I right that you are still hot for heading after Vegas? I'll help with that at some point——I admire your loyalty and we are all in some sort of mess here. But not yet, I don't think. If you go, start by just scouting things out. Try and find out where they are and figure out a plan. But if you want my advice, don't go in yet. Wait for the rest of us. I can't stop you if you want to play John Wayne, but your odds go up with backup." He peers around at the rest of the group. "Meanwhile, while Casino and maybe Echo are figuring out how to tackle that problem, we need to solve another one——the kid. I say we high tail it after that boy——and try to make contact with Starlight one the way. I wish I had confidence we haven't been left out to dry, but maybe, maybe she's got something on our side. Maybe Team Two will be useful and not just more pressure up our arse. Let’s find the kid, make contact with Starlight, and then return to find out what Casino has found."


The Fixer gazes about to see what the others think. It seems everything has gone to hell in a handbasket and he hadn't even realized they were being taken for a ride. He knows a lot of words his grandmother got angry when he said and they are all running through his head at this moment. "We got a time crunch every which way on this gig right now. Time for us all to saddle up and ride or whatever the proper John Wayne western cliche is."


As the group prepares to do whatever tasks it has decided upon, he looks again at Casino. "I'm not going to echo Echo's plea, but none of us want you to walk into a trap. We will get there if you can figure out what to do once we do."


Bloodbank sighs and drops his chin to his chest, “I still don’t think the point as been driven home.” Lifting his head, the medtech looks directly at the hulking solo. “My job is to save lives and that’s just what I’m trying to do here. You——any of us——go waltzing off and drop this contract with Starlight and you’ve just forfeited your life. Maybe even all of our lives.


“I want to save Vegas as much as I would want to save any of your lives in any situation, but we have to——HAVE TO——rescue Jace before we do anything else or it won’t matter what we do.”


“It’s like you’ve never ran the Edge before, Ken Doll,” Blossom juts her hip out to the left and rests her arm on her bag, Casino’s reflection prominent in her heart shaped sunglasses. “This Team Two or B Team that everyone keeps gibbering on about isn’t one of Starlight’s. Santa brought on another team because we’ve been too slow for Santa’s liking. That means that our clock is even shorter. Splitting the team is about as smart as calling a Reefer tuna. Dividing our resources is just plain stoo-pid.”


“I’m not vying for a leadership position,” Bloodbank commands the conversation once again. “But my suggestion is that we focus on this rescue op, make sure Starlight has nothing to regret by hiring us, and then see if when all things have come to light, she can help with the Vegas situation.”


“Buy some time with those nutjobs on the other end of the walkie,” Echo says softly, her demure eyes locked on Casino’s. “Let’s play this out smart.”


(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 04:14 AM PST)



Posted on 2019-02-20 at 21:49:37.

Topic: Star Trek Hidden Depths Q&A
Subject:


And again!



Posted on 2019-02-20 at 21:03:16.

Topic: Star Trek: Hidden Depths
Subject:


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1123 Alpha Shift


“As much as I’m in a hurry to get planetside…” Max leans forward and puts his weight on the back of Jenna’s chair. “Pull that probe and Mr. Falcone, pick it up, please. Let’s see what mysteries we can unveil.”


"Moving into two hundred and fifty kilometers, Sir. Arms ready to collect the probe. Issuing commands to probe to return to space. Mister Siric, estimated time to return?" Falcone asks.


“Five minutes and twenty seconds,” the Vulcan responds.


Jenna makes an adjustment in course, "I can attempt a manual retrieval of the probe if necessary."


“That will not be necessary,” Siric admonishes. “If my readings are correct, the probe was not followed by anything within the atmosphere.”


“I’m seeing some difference in the initial density in the wake of the probe,” Crewman Uhnari chimes in. “There’s a pattern…”


“Don’t keep me in suspense, Mister Uhnari,” Max presses.


“I’m not sure, Commander,” Sari winces as she hesitates. “But it appears that the probe was initially followed.”


“Initially? Then what?”


“Then it stopped,” the science specialist frowns, “right at the outermost edge of the atmosphere, sir.”


“Is something restricting its expansion?” Stark’s brows come together. “Why wouldn’t the… whatever it is, follow its source of food?”


“There are no unnatural barriers,” Siric informs the others. “However, the levels of nitrogen take a severe dip at the point where the atmosphere… ends. Where the atmosphere remains dense, the nitrogen levels are seventy-nine-point-zero-eight percent. At the exact point of decay, the nitrogen level drops to twenty-three-point-seven-nine percent. Perhaps this is the barrier that is keeping the unknown elements from chasing the probe.”


“Well, that indicates a possibility of intelligence, don’t you think, Mister Draci?” Max turns to the doctor. “Let’s see what that probe’s brought us? How long until we have it, Mister Siric?”


“Two-minutes and fifteen seconds.”


“I have the containment field ready to go,” Lt. Stark reports.


Cole watches his crew work their magic and procure the probe within its security field as an outsider. He has nothing to do during the work but watch. Efficiency is the name of the game and within short order, the commander has data streaming into the shuttle’s computers.


“All right, let’s have it. What does our little friend here have to say?” Max says after a short few minutes allowing the others to interpret the information.


“Nothing within these reports show intelligence.” Sari tilts her head to the side. “Only——”


“You’re seeing what I’m seeing, aren’t you, Crewman Unhari,” Draci looks up from his instruments with a smile. “There’s life.”


“Yes, sir,” Sari returns the smile. “Microbial, but life nonetheless.”


“Well,” Max leans back against the bulkhead and folds his arms, “what more can you tell me about this microbial lifeform?”


“Commander,” Sari opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, her confused eyes flitting from side to side, searching, “we would need more time to study the organisms. We just have preliminary data. There’s still so much to learn.”


“Like why our scans don’t penetrate their space,” Stark remarks sardonically.


“Fair enough,” Cole tilts his head towards the security officer. “Maybe you can tell us why that it with what you’ve got.”


“Give us some time, Commander,” Draci continues to smile. “The crewman and I will combine our efforts.”


“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Max replies. New life forms are kinda the reason we’re here… why am I not as excited as these egg heads? “We’ve been ordered to get planetside. I want to make sure it happens sooner rather than later.


“Mister Falcone, please relay to the Carver an update of our situation.”


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1134 Alpha Shift



Posted on 2019-02-20 at 21:01:38.

Topic: Star Trek Hidden Depths Q&A
Subject:


The game is updated once again!



Posted on 2019-02-15 at 16:44:06.

Topic: Star Trek: Hidden Depths
Subject:


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1121 Alpha Shift


“Are they extending along the beam? Coming toward us?” Max follows-up.


“Negative, Commander.”


“Well, that’s certainly interesting.” Folding his arms across his chest, Max settles on his heels and studies the scene outside of the viewport. “Falcone, how long would it take us to pick up the probe and breach that atmosphere? Maybe a more precise question would be, could we pick up the probe, get down to the surface and if things still aren’t looking up, break atmosphere again and return to the Carver before our shields are depleted?”


"It's the picking up the probe part that is the mitigating factor, Sir," Jenna replies. "I only have manipulator arms to grab the probe back. However, barring that, If we don't scan before we're through, I should be able to get us through and back with approximately thirty percent of shields left, if the readings are correct. I'm not a mathematician, but judging from what I've heard, it's the scanning that is making the drain more prominent." She pauses for thought. “I'm going to approximate ten minutes to breach, and then I can use her full capacity to move and scan. Hopefully to get better readings. I'm ready to try at your command, Sir."


“Any other suggestions?” Max peers about the shuttle with slightly raised eyebrows emphasizing his hope.


“Ze probe has a vectored deuterium microfusion propulsion zeestem, zat vill propel it through ze atmosphere to ze planet’s surface. With ze shields down to forty-five percent, ze probe vill likely sustain damage on entry but zer ist a goot chance zat ze probe’s data core vill remain unharmed allowing for retreival on ze planet’s surface.” Kurt frowns. “Zat ist if ze surface is somezing ve can land on.”


“I strongly advise against charging ahead without knowing what’s there, sir,” Stark enforces his position as security chief as he turns in his chair and drapes his right arm over the back so he can better observe Commander Cole’s reaction.


“I feel that I need to add,” Siric pipes up, “that we can bring the probe out of the atmosphere and return it to space where we can retrieve the data without risking either ourselves or the probe.”


“As much as I’m in a hurry to get planetside…” Max leans forward and puts his weight on the back of Jenna’s chair. “Pull that probe and Mr. Falcone, pick it up, please. Let’s see what mysteries we can unveil.”


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1123 Alpha Shift



Posted on 2019-02-15 at 16:43:48.

Topic: New Year Resolution
Subject:


Excellent! 



Posted on 2019-02-15 at 16:28:29.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


I have also posted. Not to move too fast for others to chime in but things needed to be said and... done. 


Also, now Ghlahn and the others are aligned time-wise and Cred Stick is only an hour ahead. 



Posted on 2019-02-15 at 16:28:06.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject:


The Alley Outside the Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 4:08 AM PST


Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)


Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)


“Vegas, what’s your status partner?”


Silence reigns for a full fifteen seconds followed by a click. “Vegas is no longer the owner of this… quaint piece of tech. If you want to come have a chat, we’ll talk about returning it to him.”


Stunned Casino holds the walkie talkie in his hand and does not say anything at first, the static roaring in his ear.


“Where, when?”


“Twelve ten vertical, eighty-fourth street. The sooner the better.”


“Oh, one more thing. We have the boy’s location, straight trade, agreed?”


“I don’t care about your sick habits. Blood will be repaid in blood. Your team ended seven of mine, so I will take ten of you in return. If there aren’t ten of you to take, I’ll move on to your family and friends until I have an accounting.


Your buddy, Vegas was nice enough to spill some beans once we doped him with Truther. The only reason he’s still alive is because he is convinced you’ll come looking for him and when you do… that’s when the accounting starts.” The ominous message cuts off abruptly with a slight squeak of the walkie.


“Damn,” Bloodbank shakes his masked head slowly.


“Who the hell was that?” Blossom asks.


Grim eyes meet Casino’s as Echo’s brow furrows. He can’t see her pursed lips behind the balaclava wrapped about her head and face but the squaring of her shoulders tells him that she’ll back his play if he wants to go investigate.


“Was that the other team that Cred Stick Charlie mentioned?” the netrunner conjects in a slightly higher voice. “Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t.”


Placing the walkie in his pocket, Casino quickly draws out his new agent and searches through his contacts for Ghlahn’s before realizing that the team had never exchanged agent information, thus their need for the walkie-talkies.


“Unknown’s, most likely the second retrieval team Starlight warned us about. They have Vegas so they may be tracking us when we use the Walkie-Talkies. I’m going after him.”


He pauses and makes contact with Echo’s worried eyes, receiving a clear nod of her head in return. The middle-aged runner knows the young girl—for whatever reason, and with no chance of him talking her out of it—is going with him.


“Echo is also going with me,” he addresses the remainder of the team. “I could use your skills, but I know that the boy may come first for you. I got nothing value-wise to offer you to make up for the loss in cred's that you'll take coming with us, but a personal IOU. If you decide to go after the boy, good luck.”


“You heard the dickhead on the other end of the walkie, Casino,” Bloodbank argues, using his hands for emphasis and motioning to the solo’s pocket. “You wanna go be heroic and get dead? Even if you somehow manage to get Vegas back alive—and I hate to even suggest this, but chances are, they’ve already killed him. You didn’t get any proof of life—Starlight will be forced to put numbers on your heads—all of you, including you Echo—for abandoning the contract. So, you’re dead either way.


“The smart thing to do is resolve this contract and see if you can find out more about who took Vegas and why. What’s this sh*t about blood for blood? What does any of it even mean? You’ve got nothing to go off of but an address which is damn sure to be an ambush.”


“Screw this,” Blossom frowns and shakes her head, her wet, platinum locks clinging to her face. “I’m sending a message to Cred Stick Charlie. The suit has direct contact with Starlight and she put him here to keep this gig together.”


“There’s that,” Bloodbank holds his arm out towards the netrunner. “Not to mention that the boogieman has already said they doped Vegas. Truther’s some heavy stuff. They’ve likely got all of our names and the info for our contract.”


“Could they?” Echo looks to Blossom but the netrunner is obviously jacked in so she looks back to Casino. “Is that true?”


“Yes, it’s true,” Bloodbank inserts. “Truther is expensive too. It isn’t that designer crap gangers use on the Street that can be overcome with a bit of willpower. Vegas has likely shared with them his family tree, his bank account numbers… even Casino’s shoe size. They’ll have our full descriptions, our names, what we’re looking for, Starlight’s info, Cred Stick Charlie… Ghlahn… everything.”


“If the drug is that expensive then we aren’t dealing with—” a glaze rolls across the pretty nomad’s frightened eyes. “—a Neo-Corp.”


“Ya,” the medtech grimly agrees. “That’s what I was thinking too.”


“Message sent,” Blossom comes out of her VR world and crunches on the candy in her mouth. “Be smart, dude,” she addresses Casino directly. “You’ll need a full team to even have a small chance for success and you’re intent on draggin’ Bambi, here to her death as well as pulling some strange Samurai hari-kari sh*t yourself.


“The Boy Scout is right, ya know. This group likely has all our sh*t locked down, including Starlight and Charlie. We’ll need to perform a clean job after we’re done completing this contract anyway. Maybe they’ll hold onto Vegas until then? Probs not, but there ain’t no way you can save his life by throwing yours away.”


Looking to the group, Casino takes a deep breath, ”Well looks like I’m out—Echo and I—as you heard, are going after Vegas.”


“Um,” Echo closes her eyes and looks directly into Casino’s when she opens them again. “I believe them, Casino. I’ve experience with the Neo-Corps and this sounds exactly like something they’d do.” Stepping closer, she unwraps the balaclava revealing her pouty lips and smooth, tan flesh. Placing her right hand on his chest, she looks up at the solo and stands on her tiptoes to plant a passionate kiss on his lips.


Bloodbank—immersed in awkwardness at the sudden display—turns his head away. Blossom frowns and huffs impatiently.


The kiss lasts for fifteen seconds before Echo slowly pulls away and meets his eyes with a shy gaze. “I don’t want to die, Casino. And I don’t want you to die.”


(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 04:11 AM PST)


--------------------------------------------------------------------------


Near the Parking Garage two blocks from the Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 03:46 AM PST


Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)


Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)


Refraining from sitting and without the need to eat food, Ghlahn drops his bag onto one of the tables and pulls out his Vox Communications Personal Agent Device. He keeps his battle mask over his face for security purposes but the hand-held can be activate with a thought from his neural link. Navigating to the Dark Web, he quickly produces the website he had been recruited by Starlight from. And there it is, a message on his profile. Opening it, the CEE-Metal soldier see’s Vegas’ Frank Sinatra face appear in a video feed.


“Where you at, choomba?” the image asks, rain dripping from his fedora’s visor. “There’s one helluvah mess on the street here and it is crawling with Neo-Corp stooges. I can’t get anywhere near the garage you were hold up in. Sing me a song when you get this. We need to dance quick. The run went well but I don’t know how far ahead of the clean-up team we are. We can’t have any more delays.”


The solo glances around at surroundings Ghlahn cannot see and then frowns. “Sh*t. Looks like I get to dance with the stooges. I’ll check the site for your reply as soon as I’ve answered their questions.”


The video message ends with Vegas lowering his agent, the camera still recording for a moment; just long enough to show the approach of three sec operators.


Safe for the time being, Ghlahn settles in to think about the message. After a while, he pulls his agent back out and looks for another message from the dapper solo. Maybe the man sent him something after getting rid of the sec operators. There’s another message all right. This one from Blossom and text only.


<== Vegas has been picked up by some Neo-Corp. He went looking for you and since we haven’t heard from you, I got no idea what’s happening with you. I’ve set up a monitoring subroutine on this message. Reply to it and I’ll receive the notification prompt-like. If you’re alive, we need to regroup. If you’re dead… well, you won’t get this message. ==>


(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 04:11 AM PST)


--------------------------------------------------------------------------


the Long Mile Fueling Station | SanFran Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 5:11 AM PST --- Weather Conditions: High City (heavy rain, 20mph winds from the N.) | Midcity (light rain, 10mph winds from the N.) | Undercity (fog and drizzle, no winds.)


Air Quality Index: High City = 15 | Midcity = 36 | Undercity = 86 (masks required - Red warning)


When Luther responds in the negative, the police officer continues. “You have a taillight out.”


Cred Stick Charlie knows this is a blatant lie. He checked the lights before leaving the fueling station. Officer Burns steps towards the jeep again and extends his hand to take the fake ID, retrieving a pen-sized device from his ballistics vest at the same time. That device, Luther knows, places a digital mark on the ID which, in turn, authorizes the Police Department’s bank to request a draft against the offender’s bank account. If the ID holder refuses to authorize the draft (which they can do as soon as the mark is made), the police are notified and the offender can be picked up on a warrant.


"Damn it! Apologies, Officer," Luther drops the ID inside the vehicle and asks if he can retrieve it... slowly.


“Real slow-like,” Burns responds, hand on his service weapon. “Real slow.”


"Perhaps... Officer Burns, this might allow you to... forget this little infraction?" Luther uses his oh, so well-know infectious smile. "I know that you are a very busy man and I would like to perhaps... show my appreciation for all the hard work that Night City’s finest has to offer, please take this... as a token of respect, please."


Officer Burns stares at the offered Night City Dollars in Luther’s outstretched hand. The offer isn’t blatantly out in the public but concealed in a palm with just the corner sticking out. Fifty dollars in the brightly colored Night City currency… that’s what Luther could quickly produce and that’s what’s being offered for this corrupt cop to leave him the hell alone.


"Of course, Officer burns... I will get that light checked out as soon as I get back home,” Luther is just screaming to run inside his mind, his fear—even with limited contact—over whether one one of his best pieces of work would pass scrutiny—could still bring everything down around him. Luther’s stomach aches with tension, “and I hope that you will find the token of appreciation to your satisfaction, of course. I..er..um.. didn't mean to be so direct officer but I know that you’re a very busy man and I hope that you will ‘seize’ the moment."


Stay calm, don't move, just smile at the nice officer and lets see if he will take this bribe and then we will get away, Luther's inner voice gnaws at him. Now, Luther doesn’t hear real voices but something is ringing his inner alarm system inside his head and that brings back something that Luther thought was long gone and suddenly the need to indulge in one of his many vices is nearly overpowering.


Braindance will not do it... nope. Luther is going to get a double capsule, a joy girl, and some quick eros pills. Of course, even then he will have to show constraint and not give in to his past addiction.


Easy to think or say… Luther. You know Luther... he knows all about you and that is why he pulled you over, right? A new tiny voice inserts itself into his most inner thoughts. Luther isn’t crazy; no, but when Luther has unfinished business within his last city, he had told himself that he wouldn't make the same mistakes again. The FBI are still looking for him and his new enemy and past partner. Luther isn’t a snitch and uses the roots and core values of the "G" code in his life to stay alive.


Let's just hurry it up, Officer and just take the #$%ing credits and let me go. Luther's brain screams in yet another new voice in the milliseconds that seem like 15-minutes as the hidden facial expression prevented him from getting a read on Officer Burn’s face. Luther is having trouble keeping his merde together.


Yes, it seems that Officer Burns is taking his time. Maybe he is taking his time and is still going to run Cred Stick Charlie’s I.D.? And even worse... keep his money.


Stepping forward, Burns makes like he’s shaking the fixer’s hand and palms the cash away. “You have a nice day, Mr. Hastiin.” Pocketing the cash, the police officer steps away from the hover jeep and slowly makes his way back to his vehicle leaving Luther all alone with his voices again.


Breathing deeply to calm his nerves and silence the voices, Cred Stick Charlie withdraws his agent from his pocket and wipes the misty rain from the screen with the side of his palm. Using a combination of mental commands and pushing links and buttons, the fixer accesses the worksite in the Dark Net and pumps out a message to Vegas.


<== Have ride. Almost to the target. Where’s the meet? ==>


That’s when he notices the message from Blossom. The enterprising little netrunner had tracked him down and dropped him a line.


<== The sh*t has hit the fan. We’ve got a real solid lead on the target but Vegas has gone and got himself caught by what looks like a Neo-Corp. They’re demanding blood for blood—whatever the hell that means—and Casino is intent on going all Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid to get his partner back. We’re trying to talk some sense into the big guy, but he’s like a bull on steroids. Ghlahn’s missing too. Vegas went looking for him when he got got. ==>


The message is time-stamped at 4:10 AM. It’s been over an hour since it was sent.


(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 5:14 AM PST)



Posted on 2019-02-15 at 16:25:32.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Correct. No one shared their agent info with each other which is why you all had Fixer make the walkies. 



Posted on 2019-02-15 at 14:49:22.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


I'm going to play nice GM for a moment. There are some ramifications that need to be considered here.



  1. Even if a location is given, chances are it is a trap.

  2. These people—whoever they are—don't know anything at all about a "boy." 

  3. There's a real high possibility Vegas isn't even alive.

  4. There's no response from Ghlahn as he doesn't have a walkie.

  5. Ditching a contracted gig is professional suicide. Anyone who does so can expect not to be hired for some time if word gets out... if a bounty isn't put on their heads by the fixer who is being left high and dry, that is.

  6. Running hot into a potential firefight situation without any idea as to the numbers or strength of force is... well... suicide.


OK, I'm no longer Mr. Nice D&D GM and have moved back into the role of the Twisted CyberPunk GM. Looks like you players have characters that need to make some decisions and have some discussions. You can write posts with the following knowledge:



  1. The group has been together for almost a full 24-hours. The only real loyalties are likely to the contract and Casino's and Vegas' existing partnership.

  2. The dice have spoken and Echo will fold once discussion takes place revealing the consequences for ditching a contract.

  3. Blossom has no dog in the fight to disengage from the contract and risk her rep, so she'll strongly argue to continue looking for the boy. She'll not waste energy on it if Casino is dead set on pursuing Vegas blindly, but she'll be happy to let him know just how blind he is without her skillset.

  4. Bloodbank doesn't want anyone to die, so he'll suggest getting the kid safe and sound and then those who can and wish to, join up with Casino to rescue Vegas. He'll also remind everyone about Cred Stick Charlie and the potential help he could provide, not to mention the futures involved with turning a good contract with Starlight.



Posted on 2019-02-14 at 17:03:10.
Edited on 2019-02-14 at 17:06:52 by Bromern Sal

Topic: New Year Resolution
Subject:


Well, let's kick off the dust!!!



Posted on 2019-02-14 at 13:11:40.

Topic: B A T T L E T E C H
Subject:


I was the Khan for a couple of years of Wolf Clan back when Mechwarrior 3 was a big deal. Loved the genre. Now I don't play video games anymore and I've never been any good at those tabletop strategy games that require me to dump loads of money into figs in order to compete.


I'm glad you're enjoying it!



Posted on 2019-02-14 at 13:10:31.

Topic: *glubglubstrugglesplash*
Subject:


You and yours are always in my prayers, brother. I look forward to when Life releases its grip on your steelies.



Posted on 2019-02-14 at 13:08:36.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


I am pleased to see that we have some posts already. Tann has informed me that he's posting soon as well, so I will update the game right after that.



Posted on 2019-02-11 at 17:58:07.

Topic: Star Trek: Hidden Depths
Subject:


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1120 Alpha Shift


“Sixty-two percent,” Siric reports on the shield’s condition.


“All right, Mr. Falcone, take us in,” Commander Cole places his hands on the back of her chair and stares out the window.


“Sir,” Kurt calls out. “Perhaps if ve reverse ze polarity of ze scan emissions ve might cause ze attack to remove itself.”


“If these are living organisms that are feeding on the energy, we must make sure we don’t do anything to harm them,” Doctor Draci finally adds something to the conversation. “It wouldn’t do well for us to start killing species before we even know what they are or what their intent is.”


The Betazoid is right, Max chews on the inside of his left cheek. “Hold off on that trick of yours, Mr. Wilhelm. We might call on your skills in the near future but for now, let’s see how this plays out.”


“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Wilhelm responds.


"Five hundred kilometers, Commander," Jenna responds. "Ready to maneuver in closer at your command." She turns to Siric. "Mr. Siric, did the shields start to deteriorate as soon as the probe hit that—" she has a slight grin on her face, "—one hundred two kilometers and five centimeters, or as soon as it entered the cloud?"


“The available data indicates that the drain began at exactly—”


“I think she is having a little fun with you, Mr. Siric,” Cole interrupts the Vulcan’s reply. “Maintain position, Mr. Falcone. Let’s get those scans running.”


“I am initializing a narrow beam scan now, Commander,” Siric states, his fingers running along the console in front of him.


“Ze probe ist at fifty-percent,” Wilhelm reports.


“That’s quite the jump for such a short time,” Max glances at the CEO. “Any idea why it has accelerated?”


“Negative, Commander,” Kurt looks up at the senior officer and pushes his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. “Zer ist just not enough data being returned.”


“There is a change in the density of the atmospheric particles,” Siric’s brow furrows.


“Explain,” Cole orders.


“The density of the atmosphere surrounding the point of contact by the beam has tripled if these readings are correct.”


“Are they extending along the beam? Coming toward us?” Max follows-up.


“Negative, Commander.”


“Well, that’s certainly interesting.” Folding his arms across his chest, Max settles on his heels and studies the scene outside of the viewport. “Falcone, how long would it take us to pick up the probe and breach that atmosphere? Maybe a more precise question would be, could we pick up the probe, get down to the surface and if things still aren’t looking up, break atmosphere again and return to the Carver before our shields are depleted?”


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 ) 
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1121 Alpha Shift



Posted on 2019-02-10 at 02:03:15.

Topic: Star Trek Hidden Depths Q&A
Subject:


I've scoured the star maps and I can't find Rao Puppis. I found Rho Puppis and it matches the location Crowe had set up in the mission briefing so I'm going to change the name to Rho Puppis. And as there's no official representation of Starbase 118 on the maps, I'm changing that to Starbase 12, which would correspond to the travel time if the GWC fluctuated between warp factor 4 and 5. Just some minor changes.



Posted on 2019-02-09 at 23:16:15.
Edited on 2019-02-09 at 23:30:18 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Star Trek: Hidden Depths
Subject:


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1117 Alpha Shift


“Why would that be the case?” Cole frowns over Kurt’s shoulder. What could possibly cause the energy to dissipate so quickly?


“Ze trail begins to devolve seconds after ze probe emits it,” Lt. Wilhelm muses. “Ravenous.”


“What did you say?” Sari turns and looks at the CEO with wide questioning eyes.


“Uh,” Kurt glances at her and furrows his brow. “I said ze trail begins to—”


“No,” Crewman Uhnari interrupts. “After that.”


“I vas just saying dat it looks like ze trail vas ravenously devoured.”


“Could it be?” She trails off.


“Please enlighten us, Mr. Uhnari,” Max pushes in amusement.


“Could it be a living organism that’s feeding off of the energy being produced by the probe, sir?” She looks embarrassed by the question, Max observes.


"The probe's shields are at seventy-three percent," Siric reports from his seat next to Falcone.


“Well,” Cmdr. Cole raises his eyebrows and looks around. “Thoughts?”


"So you're saying that the cloud is... eating the probe's energy? That's very... interesting. How is that even possible?" Jenna pauses. "Well, it's not trying to eat our probe, or us, from there. Could it be something that requires direct contact? Or proximity? Mister Siric, what would you think about testing that hypothesis? If we took the WaveRider up to say, five hundred kilometers or so out from the cloud, and scanned it from there? If it reaches out toward us, then we haul ourselves away from there really quick. That might give us an idea of whether it's eating the shields because of the probe or not.


If it started at where the probe began, a hundred kilometers in, then five hundred kilometers ought to be a reasonably safe distance." She does her very best not to turn and glare at Stark. Don't tell me my job, Stark. she thinks angrily. "Or, we can return to the GWC and get another probe. But the WaveRider is meant for atmospheric and surface studies. That's what she's built for."


“Mr. Falcone’s suggestion has merit, Commander,” Siric peers up at his superior officer, slightly turned in his chair. “The WaveRider can certainly… ‘haul’ us away should there be a need.”


“That’s assuming that whatever is degrading the probe’s shields doesn’t move faster than the WaveRider,” Stark mumbles.


“Sixty-two percent,” Siric reports on the shield’s condition.


“All right, Mr. Falcone, take us in,” Commander Cole places his hands on the back of her chair and stares out the window.


(OOC: assuming Jenna does so&hellip


“Sir,” Kurt calls out. “Perhaps if ve reverse ze polarity of ze scan emissions ve might cause ze attack to remove itself.”


“If these are living organisms that are feeding on the energy, we must make sure we don’t do anything to harm them,” Doctor Draci finally adds something to the conversation. “It wouldn’t do well for us to start killing species before we even know what they are or what their intent is.”


The Betazoid is right, Max chews on the inside of his left cheek. “Hold off on that trick of yours, Mr. Wilhelm. We might call on your skills in the near future but for now, let’s see how this plays out.”


“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Wilhelm responds.


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1120 Alpha Shift



Posted on 2019-02-08 at 18:07:04.
Edited on 2019-02-10 at 01:41:08 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


The game is updated!



Posted on 2019-02-08 at 17:19:18.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject:


The Alley Outside the Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 4:07 AM PST


Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)


Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)


"Three people?” Fixer abruptly clarifies with the beautiful hacker. “Were any of them the woman Jace seemed to be seen talking to a lot? That was the one person who seemed interested in getting close to him. I'd start there, otherwise lets hit the one closest to this location and get moving."


“One was,” Blossom chirps. “I got her address from her file but shouldn’t we group up again? Ghlahn and Vegas could be handy.”


“At least that I can agree with,” Bloodbank mumbles from behind his combat mask.


Echo crouches, reaches forward, and deposits the computers inside the tent and then rejoins her company. “I told him he should sell them fast. Put some emphasis on the need to get rid of them. What he does from here with them is up to him.”


Taking the olive branch, Bloodbank nods to the road warrior. “Thanks,” he says.


Things are moving again. Fixer just wants to breath deep and start running. There is so much to do and so little time. And he isn’t even exactly sure what to do and where to begin, but something needs doing. There are three names and addresses on that list. But now things are also a bit out of his area of expertise.


"Regoup? Yeah, good idea. We got a couple we need to look for here and hopefully some transport coming. Let’s look for the local team and get out of this alley and away from the goods." Fixer glances at Casino. "You know where best to find Vegas and Ghlahn?" He is ready to move.


“I read you. Let me try to contact one or both,” Casino says as he pulls out the two-way walkie-talkie.


“Vegas, what’s your status partner?”


Silence reigns for a full fifteen seconds followed by a click. “Vegas is no longer the owner of this… quaint piece of tech. If you want to come have a chat, we’ll talk about returning it to him.”


“Damn,” Bloodbank shakes his masked head slowly.


“Who the hell was that?” Blossom asks.


Grim eyes meet Casino’s as Echo’s brow furrows. He can’t see her pursed lips behind the balaclava wrapped about her head and face but the squaring of her shoulders tells him that she’ll back his play if he wants to go investigate.


“Was that the other team that Cred Stick Charlie mentioned?” the netrunner conjects in a slightly higher voice. “Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t.”


(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 04:08 AM PST)


--------------------------------------------------------------------------


Near the Parking Garage two blocks from the Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 03:11 AM PST


Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)


Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)


“You still alive, Choomba?” the call from deeper in the garage is only caught because of the cyborg’s enhanced hearing. “Or did we kill you?”


If all goes well, he will be able to hang from the fence and slide down the side of the garage just far enough to grab the fence below and continue downward in that manner. If not, he will simply have to drop and hope for the best. He could possibly die or suffer serious injury but at least he has a chance; if he holds his ground, he is as good as dead in his estimation. Of course, if he doesn’t respond to the hazing they might see a need to come investigate.


Melting through the last link of metal, Ghlahn grips the cutaway piece of fencing with his other hand and pulls it aside as he shuts off his torch. Grabbing his bag, the cyborg extracts himself from beneath the vehicle and crouches below the line of the trunk to sling his bag over his shoulder. Peering down, over the edge, the drop looks much greater than anticipated. Such is the nature of heights. But it isn’t the height that gives the Cee-metal pause. The APC is still parked below. It hasn’t come into the garage.


“Yeah, you killed me. Job well done, no need to stick around!" Ghlahn calls back hoping to keep the team members at a standoff. With his escape hole created, he lowers himself and looks down. First he notices it is a bit higher than he thought. Then he sees that the armored vehicle is still parked below. A curse escapes his lips at his misfortune, but moments later he realizes that there is a lack of team members around the vehicle. Could they have been stupid enough to dismount and enter the garage on foot? A new plan hatches in the CEE-sniper’s mind.


Doing his best to shimmy down the side of the garage he gets as low as possible and then drops, looking for the softest possible landing spot. A five meter drop is nothing for his cyborg legs to absorb. Spinning in his crouch, his sudden appearance from above and cat-like moves startle the passer-bys resulting in a couple of miffed words of profanity being sent his way. Ignoring the sheep, he makes a low advance on the vehicle. If the sec team is dumb enough to leave an armored vehicle unattended, he sees no reason he shouldn't make use of it for his escape.


Luck, however, is not on Ghlahn’s side today. As he rushes the vehicle, the 14.5mm turreted machine gun swivels with hissing hydraulics to focus in his direction. It appears that there is at least one crewman inside still.


Roaring, flaming hot lead spews from the rifled maw of the machine gun. Ghlahn surges on, feeling the rolling waves of hellfire pass over his head, tearing apart the cement structure behind him. Screams and panic flood the street but the focused CEE-metal soldier is only aware of the APC as his boots pound the pavement away from the threat.


The turret is at the front and the front is aligned with traffic; which is now speeding up, pulling over, or doing its best to scramble out of the way and causing more of a problem than had the drivers all just continued on course. Ghlahn is running down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, weaving and pushing people aside as he goes.


~~~ Two hundred credits to the choomba that grabs that man! ~~~


The commanding voice that echoes down the street rings out behind him. The corporate crew has just put a price on Ghlahn’s head. For now, no one seems intent on going for it and the cyborg takes full advantage, sprinting further down the street. Squealing tires pierce the frantic sounds and a quick glance over his shoulder shows Ghlahn that the APC is turning about, crashing into nearby vehicles and pushing obstructions out of the way.


A man with a hover cart covered in steel meter-by-meter crates quickly reverses the mover and backs it right in front of Ghlahn but the CEE-metal soldier leapfrogs over it and hits the ground running, his bag slamming against his back. Bursting through the chest of a hologram advert, Ghlahn slides a meter or so and changes directions, running down a narrow alley that won’t allow the APC to follow, pushing wet people out of the way, indifferent to their protests.


“Look out!” someone screams the warning at the same time as lurching rubber on cement indicates the APC has stopped in front of the same alley. Taking the hint, Ghlahn leaps and pulls himself up onto a large pipe that is at least three meters in diameter. Spotting the narrow gap between it and the wall, the sniper drops through it, hitting the pavement again just as the bullets from that insufferable machine gun turret begin tearing the alleyway apart. Rounds rip through the pipe and burst out again in front of him, behind him, and over him but the red-headed cyborg is already intent on moving further away knowing that if he stays still, he’s likely dead.


The last time he had come under fire like this was when he infiltrated the Neo-Corp, New Cell Energy Corporation. He’d made it out alive but earned a lifelong enemy in the process. A service door on the right catches, Ghlahn’s eye. Metal with interior hinges, a single crank-style handle set into a metal plate. Likely locked. A frantic scan of the surrounding wall also shows a single security camera. Peering back along the alley, he’s still got a good three hundred meters to be a target for the APC. This is his only option.


Bearing down on the door, M'harú Ghlahn uses his formidable strength to palm strike the lever handle. Pain shoot up his wrist and into his arm but he slams it again and this time the handle breaks away revealing a small crevice between the base of the lever and the metal plate. The bar bared like the arm bone of an injured man, Ghlahn strikes it one more time this time breaking the handle off completely. Taking a step back, he kicks the door inward and slips into the dimly lit, white tiled corridor, closing the door behind him.


Falling against the door, the sniper narrows his alert eyes and focuses on his new surroundings. The hall is approximately fifteen meters long before turning to the right. No doors, the floor tiles continue halfway up the wall. Most are chipped or cracked. All are ridiculously dirty with small caster wheel tracks breaking up the muck like off-road vehicle tracks in the mud. Two three meter long old-school light boxes are spaced evenly along the length of the ceiling. One has a bulb out, the lonely remaining cylindrical bulb flickering in its last throes of life.


Pushing away from the door, Ghlahn shifts his bag to a more comfortable position and begins walking confidently down the hall, rubbing his right palm and wrist but otherwise looking like he belongs there.


Depths of buildings in Night City can continue on for hundreds of flights of stairs and dismal descents in elevators and the same upwards. There are occasional landings that require ID to proceed, proof that one belongs to that level of the Integrate, but a person can stay indoors for their entire life if they are so inclined and still get all of the exercise of a diligent hiker. Though this isn’t Ghlahn’s intent, he can potentially use it to his advantage.


In his career as an edgerunner, he has occasionally found himself up against the Neo-Corps and all of their power and resources. They can bring some tough opponents into the ring and if they want you bad enough, they can use drones and constructs to hunt you down with more efficiency than squads of men. Two hundred credits to the choomba that grabs that man! The words echo in the CEE-metal soldier’s mind. Two hundred isn’t much when a soul is weighing their chances of success against their chances of failure. That’s likely why only one fool made a half-hearted attempt to stop him. That could also mean that the squad wouldn’t expend a whole lot of resources to hunt him down in the maze of one of these smart structures. Then again, he killed a number of their buddies…


His crew is on somewhere on this street level. He’s without a direct communications link… but he does have the website they were all recruited from. Perhaps he can find a way to get in touch with Vegas through the site and regroup with his team. Now within a different but similar hall, Ghlahn moves to the other side to avoid a patch of wall being repaired by the building’s core nanites. There are now doors—doors with small light fixtures over them, black and brown stains on the sickly teal faces and frames. These are most likely cheap conapts rentable by the lowest levels of the corporate world and those who work within the building. Somewhere in this structure there would be a park or lobby where he could settle for a moment. Up, down, or stay on the level he’s on and risk that sec team being bold.


People round the corner ahead of him and for a second, Ghlahn tenses up. These are the drones of the working world, however. A group of three. Two men and one woman. All caucasian and wearing business casual underneath their rain gear. They look wary and tired as they pass him by but not one of them look like they wish to engage with the combat tactically dressed red-head. This time of morning, they are either heading out to catch the public transportation they use to get to their desk jobs on time or they are just getting back. Either way, Ghlahn is fine letting them move on.


Close to fifteen minutes have passed by the time he finds a lobby with a place to sit. Square with low ceilings, the room is barely ten meters by ten meters with one wall lined by various vending machines and the opposite containing four small metal framed tables with scarred and dented surfaces, each surrounded by two or three rickety looking metal framed chairs. Perhaps they once matched each other but now some of the chairs are missing seatbacks or their seat coverings are so stained that even the disgusting table tops can’t match their petine.


Refraining from sitting and without the need to eat food, Ghlahn drops his bag onto one of the tables and pulls out his Vox Communications Personal Agent Device. He keeps his battle mask over his face for security purposes but the hand-held can be activated with a thought from his neural link. Navigating to the Dark Web, he quickly produces the website he had been recruited by Starlight from. And there it is, a message on his profile. Opening it, the CEE-Metal soldier see’s Vegas’ Frank Sinatra face appear in a video feed.


“Where you at, choomba?” the image asks, rain dripping from his fedora’s visor. “There’s one helluvah mess on the street here and it is crawling with Neo-Corp stooges. I can’t get anywhere near the garage you were hold up in. Sing me a song when you get this. We need to dance quick. The run went well but I don’t know how far ahead of the clean-up team we are. We can’t have any more delays.”


The solo glances around at surroundings Ghlahn cannot see and then frowns. “Sh*t. Looks like I get to dance with the stooges. I’ll check the site for your reply as soon as I’ve answered their questions.”


The video message ends with Vegas lowering his agent, the camera still recording for a moment; just long enough to show the approach of three sec operators.


(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 03:46 AM PST)


--------------------------------------------------------------------------


the Long Mile Fueling Station | SanFran Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 5:09 AM PST --- Weather Conditions: High City (heavy rain, 20mph winds from the N.) | Midcity (light rain, 10mph winds from the N.) | Undercity (fog and drizzle, no winds.)


Air Quality Index: High City = 15 | Midcity = 36 | Undercity = 86 (masks required - Red warning)


Mr. Charlie apologizes to Hui Yin and then hangs up, commenting quietly to himself that good help is hard to find in a bind.


In the side view mirror, Cred Stick Charlie witnesses the officer—fully armored in riot gear—approaching on the building-side.


“License and registration, please.”


Handing over his I.D., Luther complies with the officer’s request.


“Registration?” Officer Burns addresses the missing information.


Reaching over to the glove compartment, the well-dressed fixer drops the door open and leans over to peer inside.


“Careful, Mr. Hastiin,” Burns steps back, his hand resting on the grip of his service weapon. “Move slow so we don’t have any misunderstandings.”


The compartment is filled with worthless crumpled papers that are ages old showing service that has been performed by service stations with dates that are more than ten years old. There are a few pens, a single rusted crescent wrench, a couple of ratty elastic hair bands, and a Twinkie still in its package, but there’s no registration.


"Ahhh… Officer. It's missing... The registration is missing from the glovebox, Sir."


Luther aka Mr. Hastiin isn’t very pleased and even more concerned. If this vehicle gets impounded what is Luther going to do? Everyone has a price on their heads if the child isn't found and it will only be a matter of time before all of them are dead in that case.


"Officer, tell me what my options are, Sir. All that I want to do is get home safely after a long night. I just left the fueling station a ways back and I'm just rambling, apologies."


“Interesting ride for someone as well-dressed as you are, Mr. Hastiin,” Officer Burns tilts his head to the side a little, but with his face completely masked by the standard issue riot combat mask his disposition is nigh unto impossible for the fixer to make out. “I would expect to find someone like you in a sedan at the very least. That is, unless you stole this piece of—”


“Oh! Wait,” Cred Stick Charlie catches sight of a small card caught in the seam of the glovebox right at the top, just out of a person’s line of sight if they aren’t bent over as he is. “I think this is it.”


Pulling out the card, the fixer feels a surge of relief wash over him. The card is, in fact, the registration. Chipped for digital verification, he holds it up and prays that the nomads have everything set up as it should be. The tech in the riot mask allows Officer Burns to scan the card visually and run it against the police database. The entire process is quick and efficient. Now the big question is whether his fake ID holds up to scrutiny.


Burns’ mask stares at the two cards for a moment longer and then he nods. “Do you know why I pulled you over, Mr. Hastiins?”


When Luther responds in the negative, the police officer continues. “You have a taillight out.”


Cred Stick Charlie knows this is a blatant lie. He checked the lights before leaving the fueling station. Officer Burns steps towards the jeep again and extends his hand to take the fake ID, retrieving a pen-sized device from his ballistics vest at the same time. That device, Luther knows, places a digital mark on the ID which, in turn, authorizes the Police Department’s bank to request a draft against the offender’s bank account. If the ID holder refuses to authorize the draft (which they can do as soon as the mark is made), the police are notified and the offender can be picked up on a warrant.


(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 5:11 AM PST)



Posted on 2019-02-08 at 17:19:02.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject:


Sure thing, Tann. 


I'll aim to have something up for you tomorrow, Espatier.



Posted on 2019-02-07 at 18:28:32.

Topic: I’m so sorry!
Subject:


I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Focus on getting well and come back when you can.



Posted on 2019-02-07 at 18:24:52.

Topic: Star Trek Hidden Depths Q&A
Subject:


And I've updated the game again. I've attempted to keep all the characters that I've NPC'd in their personality as played by their players. Please... let's have more player involvement. 


I appreciate ya, MagickMan.



Posted on 2019-02-04 at 18:36:39.

Topic: Star Trek: Hidden Depths
Subject:


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1117 Alpha Shift


The WaveRider shudders just enough to notice as the probe is released. The trajectory of the device is recorded by blue lines across the gridded screen. Data immediately begins to be downloaded to the WaveRider and in turn, uploaded to the George Washington Carver for additional analysis. After a few minutes, Cole’s screen lights up with alerts.


“What’s going on?” he asks, brow furrowing.


“Something is slowly eating away at the probe’s shields,” Stark worriedly reports. “I show absolutely no reason for this but it is a slow and steady decline.”


“Der ist a great deal of strain on ze probe’s energy matrix, Commander,” Wilhelm remarks with such rush that his accent nearly makes it impossible for Max to grasp what he’s saying.


“Find out what’s causing that drain, people,” Max taps the reading and brings it into prominent view.


“The probe is a mere two hundred meters into the uppermost atmosphere, Commander,” Siric informs him. “The drain appears to have begun at one hundred and two meters, five centimeters inside the—”


“What’s your point, Mr. Siric?” Cole interrupts. He can see the data being cited right in front of him.


“Perhaps, with only two hundred meters—of which one hundred might not be… infected with whatever it is that’s jamming our sensors—we could transport the probe into the shuttle’s cargo bay along with a small volume of the atmosphere surrounding it.”


“A level six containment field should be sufficient for security purposes if we were to, Commander,” Lt. Stark adds.


“Can we stabilize those shields?” Max looks to Kurt. “I’d rather not claim defeat so readily.”


"Sir?" Jenna glances at Commander Cole. "While the containment field should be sufficient enough to contain the probe as specified, the WaveRider doesn't have a transporter onboard, Sir. The GWC would have to bring it directly to the cargo bay." She takes a deep breath, " I don't know what the probe's collection and chemical sensors are saying, but it ought to be able to collect a sample of the atmosphere on its own. With your permission, I can take the WaveRider into the atmosphere, right up to that one-hundred-meter line. Close enough to get a direct scan, up close and personal." Jenna returned her gaze to the display screens in front of her.


“I advise against taking the WaveRider into the atmosphere until we have an idea of what’s degrading the shields on the probe,” Lt. Stark replies with maybe a little acid. “Doesn’t make much sense to feed us all to the… whatever it is.”


“Keep it together, Lieutenant,” Cole warns. Don’t need people poking holes in their shipmate’s confidence right now.


“Ze Lieutenant is correct, sir,” the Engineering CO calmly informs the ship. “Vithout any uhzer proof ve can only assume dat ze same degradation vill happen to ze WaveRider.”


“So what’s doing the damage? Come on, people. We’ve got this,” Max rises from his chair and begins strolling about the two cabins, pausing behind each of his team. “Look past the numbers and put this puzzle together.”


“Vell,” Wilhelm pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Ze drain did not begin until ze probe vas actively scanning.”


“That’s right,” Sari declares thoughtfully. “As though the scans acted like a magnet.”


“Or a beacon,” Stark amends.


“Vait,” Kurt cautions. “Dis is not entirely true. Zee here?”


Tapping his screen, he quickly brings up the data points from another report. “Ze impulse drive of ze probe…”


“The trailings are extremely diluted,” the science officer concludes. “That’s not right.”


“Correct,” Siric now chimes in with his monotone voice. “We should have a clear reading of a highly ionic trail in the wake of the probe. We do not. We have a faint trail as though the probe passed through days ago.”


“Why would that be the case?” Cole frowns over Kurt’s shoulder. What could possibly cause the energy to dissipate so quickly?


“Ze trail begins to devolve seconds after ze probe emits it,” Lt. Wilhelm muses. “Ravenous.”


“What did you say?” Sari turns and looks at the CEO with wide questioning eyes.


“Uh,” Kurt glances at her and furrows his brow. “I said ze trail begins to—”


“No,” Crewman Uhnari interrupts. “After that.”


“I vas just saying dat it looks like ze trail vas ravenously devoured.”


“Could it be?” She trails off.


“Please enlighten us, Mr. Uhnari,” Max pushes in amusement.


“Could it be a living organism that’s feeding off of the energy being produced by the probe, sir?” She looks embarrassed by the question, Max observes.


"The probe's shields are at seventy-three percent," Siric reports from his seat next to Falcone.


“Well,” Cmdr. Cole raises his eyebrows and looks around. “Thoughts?”


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1119 Alpha Shift



Posted on 2019-02-04 at 18:29:51.
Edited on 2019-02-10 at 01:36:23 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Star Trek Hidden Depths Q&A
Subject:


I've updated the game. The Logbook isn't letting me add to it right now but you are clear to post. If one of you players comes back into the game and I've posted actions and words for your character that you don't agree with, please feel free to correct them.



Posted on 2019-01-30 at 16:58:28.

Topic: Star Trek: Hidden Depths
Subject:


Stardate: 2365.03.29 (Sunday - 42269.8 )
WaveRider Shuttle - Rho Puppis I Uppermost Atmosphere - 1116 Alpha Shift


Confident that the preassigned away team will follow, Cmdr. Cole strides to the lift and turns to await his team. The walk to the ventral side is filled with conversational conjecture. Without knowing what is deflecting the scans, how can we prepare the WaveRider for the worst? Is there anything that we should bring with us that we haven’t considered? What proposals can we put on the table for our approach? Do we have any probes aboard the WaveRider?


"She has one Class 3 Atmospheric Probe, Sir," Jenna replies. "She's designed to be a probe, in and of herself, Sir. Built for atmospheric penetration and planetary scans. My suggestion would be to launch the Class 3 and extrapolate readings from there. If necessary, I can take her a minimum distance into the cloud for more direct study."


Max nods appreciatively to the tall, white-haired woman. Too young to be white-haired, he muses quickly. Maybe a little mix of some other race in her blood? Interesting. Completely irrelevant but still interesting.


“We’ll keep our deflector shields at a maximum at least until we’ve figured out why our sensors can’t penetrate the atmosphere,” Stark adds.


“Dis ship,” Wilhelm inserts. “It is already loaded with all of ze scientific and survey equipment dat ist suggested by Starfleet.”


This conversation continues into the specialized shuttlecraft. Stepping aside to allow Lt. Falcone to move into the pilot seat. Siric takes his place flight ops station, Sari Uhnari takes science station 1, Lt. Draci stands at science station 2, Lt. Wilhelm at flight engineering, Stark takes a seat at the sensor station with Crewman Bragan standing nearby, which leaves the auxiliary station to Cole.


“Mr. Falcone,” Max calls forward, “Take us out. Bring us within a few kilometers of the outer atmosphere. Mr. Uhnari and Lt. Wilhelm, please prepare a probe. We need to see into that atmosphere or we’ll never be able to land this bird.”


"Aye, Sir," Jenna replies. "Launch in 3...2...1." With a gentle touch, she disengages from the GWC, and moves the specialized shuttle forward, guiding it toward Rao Puppis I. THIS is what she signed on for. She'd never flown this craft before, but it feels good under her hands.


"Let's get to know each other, shall we?" she says softly, maneuvering toward the atmospheric band surrounding the planet.


“The WaveRider is not outfitted with an AI interface, Lieutenant Falcone,” Siric comments dryly, having been the only one to pick up on her delicate words.


"Closing distance to five thousand kilometers, Commander," Jenna says to Commander Cole. "Ready to launch the probe at your command.”


Someone likely knew more about the probe's capabilities than she did, she thought. Right now her job was to hold the WaveRider steady for the others to do their work.


“Thank you, Mr. Falcone,” Cole replies. “Mr. Unhari and Mr. Wilhem, are you two satisfied with the probes settings?”


“Just von tweak to ze dampening field…” Kurt comments distractedly. “Ah, yes. Ze probe ist ready, Commander.”


“Aye, sir,” the young science officer replies.


“Good, then you have my permission to launch, Lieutenant Siric,” Max brings up the data on the launch with a couple of swift taps on his console.


The WaveRider shudders just enough to notice as the probe is released. The trajectory of the device is recorded by blue lines across the gridded screen. Data immediately begins to be downloaded to the WaveRider and in turn, uploaded to the George Washington Carver for additional analysis. After a few minutes, Cole’s screen lights up with alerts.


“What’s going on?” he asks, brow furrowing.


“Something is slowly eating away at the probe’s shields,” Stark worriedly reports. “I show absolutely no reason for this but it is a slow and steady decline.”


“Der ist a great deal of strain on ze probe’s energy matrix, Commander,” Wilhelm remarks with such rush that his accent nearly makes it impossible for Max to grasp what he’s saying.


“Find out what’s causing that drain people,” Max taps the reading and brings it into prominent view.


“The probe is a mere two hundred meters into the uppermost atmosphere, Commander,” Siric informs him. “The drain appears to have begun at one hundred and two meters, five centimeters inside the—”


“What’s your point, Mr. Siric?” Cole interrupts. He can see the data being cited right in front of him.


“Perhaps, with only two hundred meters—of which one hundred might not be… infected with whatever it is that’s jamming our sensors—we could transport the probe into the shuttle’s cargo bay along with a small volume of the atmosphere surrounding it.”


“A level six containment field should be sufficient for security purposes if we were to, Commander,” Lt. Stark adds.


“Can we stabilize those shields?” Max looks to Kurt. “I’d rather not claim defeat so readily.”


(OOC: Kurt’s answer… )


(OOC: Other players, feel free to offer insights, feedback, ideas… make things happen. )



Posted on 2019-01-30 at 16:56:04.
Edited on 2019-02-10 at 01:37:02 by Bromern Sal

 


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