[VR] Theora System Part 3

The Machine · Post by **The Machine** » Mon Sep 30, 2024 5:04 pm

Perception: 1d100: [19] = 19 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [14] = 14 ; 1d100: [100] = 100
Conditions: None

Bert looks down at the broken drone. Well I did need parts. Bert thinks before he comes to his conclusion that the Wulfen is still alive. "Damn they build you guys tough." With a resigned sigh, Bert turns his radio back on for the moment. "Doc, they left a survivor over here, a Wulfen Cyborg with some kind of artificial skin cover. I don't know how bad he is, but he also doesn't look like he's gonna be moving on his own anytime soon." Bert says.

MOD wrote:"Bert, how's work on the reactor going? We might need to depart for a moment. Would you be ok with that?"

Bert shrugs, not that anyone can see that. "Gonna be a job depending on what we want to do with this crate. Yeah, I'll be fine." Bert radios back. "Well pal, looks like it's just me and you for now." Bert says to the unconscious cyborg. Bert shakes his head. Just enough to do on this boat that it needs two to move it... That sucks. Bert thinks as he begins to further rummage the ship for supplies.

Post by **Nurse Ratchet** » Tue Oct 01, 2024 7:06 pm

Bridge:

Ashrak quickly settles into a weapons console. Having no training in heavy weaponry, he manages to successfully navigate the menu until the weapons reticle appears over the screen.

By the looks of it, it seems that the console is mostly prepped to target the robot. The screen zooms in to the space where the robot is, a camera follows the foe as it zigzags through space. A control joy stick with a firing control raises itself out of the control console while an armament menu quickly appears, self selects to the underbelly cannon, then quickly disappears away.

Ashrak reaches for the firing control interface, which looks like a pair of retro joysticks side by side. The joystick on the left controls the camera, which the gun follows by design, while the right joysticks controls the reticle and allows for leading off shots for escaping foes.

Ashrak aims and fires away. The controls don't seem too unintuitive. Still, he is unaware of the behavior of the particle beam cannon that Grizzelblak carries on her underbelly so he has no real intuition on how it will behave over the vast distances of space.

Attack 1, strike roll 1d20-6: [9]-6 = 3 , damage roll 20d4*10: [3, 3, 1, 3, 1, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 2, 1, 3, 3, 4, 1, 2, 2, 1]*10 = 430
Attack 2, strike roll 1d20-6: [7]-6 = 1 , damage roll 20d4*10: [4, 2, 3, 2, 1, 2, 4, 4, 4, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 1, 3, 3, 2, 2, 4]*10 = 470
Attack 3, strike roll 1d20-6: [14]-6 = 8 , damage roll 20d4*10: [1, 4, 4, 3, 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 3, 4, 4, 4, 1, 2, 1, 3, 2, 4, 2]*10 = 550
Attack 4, strike roll 1d20-6: [18]-6 = 12 , damage roll 20d4*10: [1, 3, 2, 2, 1, 3, 4, 3, 4, 1, 1, 1, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 3, 2, 4]*10 = 480
Attack 5, strike roll 1d20-6: [17]-6 = 11 , damage roll 20d4*10: [2, 4, 1, 1, 4, 1, 3, 4, 3, 4, 2, 4, 3, 2, 4, 3, 4, 3, 2, 3]*10 = 570
Attack 6, strike roll 1d20-6: [10]-6 = 4 , damage roll 20d4*10: [4, 4, 2, 1, 3, 2, 2, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 3, 3, 1, 4, 1, 4, 4]*10 = 500

As Ashrak is busying himself trying to take down the robot, MOD begins the interrogation while Zilch stands off a small distance, menacingly inspecting the prisoners for any sort of chicanery.

MOD stews over the revelation on the news. Eir thoughts reduce eir loquaciousness to a mere murmur. Starring blankly at the captives, MOD realizes that eir options moving forward have expanded somewhat.

Angry mirror ball of light wrote: "Ash, we need that robot intact. I think it's a lead to some scumbags we're being paid to slag. Shoot to disable."

Suddenly, MOD catches a few stray thoughts from the younger Silhouette!
"They better kill that thing. That robot isn't alone and their lot are not mainstream slavers."

"THEY CAN HEAR YOU STUPID." Zuks Mungu ponders LOUDLY.

Maks turns to MOD, then back to his Uncle and suddenly his mind goes quiet.

Angry mirror ball of light wrote: M glances over at the two silhouettes. They might know too much. "You all can pretend you didn't hear that last part, neh?" Then ey shifts eir red circle to stare at Zilch. "In fact, why don't you take these two noble corporeals to a holding cell?"

Back to the Mungu brothers: "We can talk about the terms of your liberation after things get settled up here. K? Thanks, and try not to make the guards want to eat you!"

Just Zilch approaches the two, Ashrak's console lights up.

Grizzelblak broadcasts to the crew:

"Three Direct Hits!!"

Ashrak peers through the gun sight and is surprised to see that the robot is hurtling through space, but it's overall armor is only minorly damaged. Careful examination shows that on every direct hit, the particle beam cannon encounted a personal forcefield of some kind, which allowed the robot to "bounce" off the particle beam rather than stay in the path of the high energy particles for the entire blast. Every time the robot was hit, the forcefield disintegrated and some of its armor was damaged, but it was able to regenerate a new forcefield upon every hit.

Still, the robot seems to moving much slower now.

Attack 1, strike roll 1d20-6: [7]-6 = 1 , damage roll 20d4*10: [4, 1, 1, 1, 2, 4, 3, 3, 2, 4, 2, 1, 4, 3, 4, 3, 1, 2, 4, 4]*10 = 530
Attack 2, strike roll 1d20-6: [8]-6 = 2 , damage roll 20d4*10: [1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 1, 3, 2, 4, 1, 1, 3, 3, 3, 1, 2, 3, 3]*10 = 420
Attack 3, strike roll 1d20-6: [8]-6 = 2 , damage roll 20d4*10: [4, 2, 4, 3, 3, 1, 4, 2, 2, 3, 2, 3, 3, 1, 2, 2, 4, 1, 4, 3]*10 = 530
Attack 4, strike roll 1d20-6: [12]-6 = 6 , damage roll 20d4*10: [3, 2, 4, 2, 4, 2, 3, 4, 2, 1, 1, 4, 1, 3, 1, 3, 1, 2, 4, 4]*10 = 510
Attack 5, strike roll 1d20-6: [9]-6 = 3 , damage roll 20d4*10: [2, 1, 3, 4, 1, 3, 2, 2, 4, 1, 4, 3, 3, 2, 2, 1, 1, 4, 3, 4]*10 = 500
Attack 6, strike roll 1d20-6: [10]-6 = 4 , damage roll 20d4*10: [4, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 3, 2, 1, 3, 1, 2, 1, 3, 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 1]*10 = 460

Ashrak's attempt to herd the robot prove to be unsuccessful. There is still chance to catch up to the robot, but Grizzelblak would have to depart quickly.

Zilch has no poker face. His day dreaming is evident; Zilch gently smiles at the two silhouttes, like they are the entree for tonight's meal. The elder Mungu gives Zilch a look, like the older silhouette was trying to size up the cookie monster, but then Zuks recoils in horror. And Maks in turn, follows submissively.

Then without warning, Zilch scoops them up. Maks lets out a little yelp, then covers his mouth. Zuks can only stare despondently off into space as both of them are carried to the holding cell.

Once Zilch reaches the makeshift brig, he finds Vinny in power armor. Her armor is a bit damaged, but otherwise she is in good health. She had decided that every prisoner gets their own room. Locked behind hundreds of MDC worth of metal, Vinny would rather the prisoners didn't communicate, verbally or otherwise.

Zilch deposits each Silhouette in a room by themselves, then closes the hatch behind him.

Vinny nods thankfully at Zilch once the prisoners are stowed away. She says in a volume so that every prisoner could hear: "Thanks for taking care of that Lanotaur. I hope it was a good snack in between fights."

By the time Zilch comes back to the bridge, he witnesses Ashrak's second attempt to corral the psychic space robot. This time around, Ashrak's beginner's luck has been depleted. After a quick exchange between MOD and Bert, Grizzelblak gets ready to pursue the space robot.

Meanwhile, on the rain of death transport, Bert gets to looking for supplies. After collecting the drone parts, he notices that the cybord has a indicator light on. It seems like his body has put itself into some kind of medical coma.

Meanwhile Bert is able to gather some extra parts in a storage area. He also finds a welding torch, soldering iron, some spare control modules for the impulse engines and their controls unit as well as some manuals for the impulse drive system. He also notices a spare spacer hard suit, as well as an irmss health kit.

Bert estimates that he can go ahead and figure out how to get enough impulse power to move the ship to the asteriod in a few hours. Meanwhile, he also notes that there is enough power from the repaired reactor to turn on the weapons system. If he had the right luck, know how or persistence, he might be able to get the point defense weapons to act as automatic sentries.

Meanwhile on the medbay, Dr. White continues his inspection of the Seljuk. The subject seems really medicated. Despite Dr. White's prodding, he isn't quite stirring. Dr. White will have to perform some additional inspections on the subject and see if there are additional devices that are keeping the Seljuk sedated.

Suddenly, one of the healing pods starts to make a mild alarm noise. The subject is floating inside the liquid recovering. She seems to be recovering well.

Suddenly, the medbay door opens and two ferocious looking things walk in:

One of them starts to speak in a metallic voice:

"You... are Doctor? We are friends of Grizzelblak. We would like to learn more about your life forms. Will... you... assist?"

The Machine · Post by **The Machine** » Wed Oct 02, 2024 6:11 pm

Perception: 1d100: [30] = 30 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [14] = 14 ; 1d100: [22] = 22
Conditions: None

Drive Repair 1d100: [56] = 56 /73% Success (Try and get the impulse drive running once more.)

With Griz off doing something, Bert shrugs and gets to work. At least I can do this in peace. None of the wackos are here to bother me. Bert thinks with an almost content sigh. Bert decides to be extra thorough in his maintenance, hoping to avoid any issues. While Bert works he mulls over what to do with the Reign or Death.

Could strip her of armaments, and put them on the rock, would add some serious defense. But then I would likely be stuck doing all the work by myself. Need to hire a maintenance crew or something. Would make things easier. Problem is we're getting a not great reputation, so what kind of help would we get really... Dregs and psychos. Bert thinks as he slowly replaces a broken part.

Or we could get it running just enough, fly it back to Geo and sell it, the whole group would have to go again... and who knows who would get the same idea to think we're easy pickings. Sadly it is the most time efficient idea. Bert thinks as he continues to work.

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Wed Oct 02, 2024 9:08 pm

JIC: 1d20: [13] = 13 , 1d100: [30] = 30
Perception: 32% (47% in darkness) / 1d100: [86] = 86 (FAIL)

Conditions: , , Immune to Psionics

Nurse Ratchet wrote: ↑Tue Oct 01, 2024 7:06 pm Vinny nods thankfully at Zilch once the prisoners are stowed away. She says in a volume so that every prisoner could hear: "Thanks for taking care of that Lanotaur. I hope it was a good snack in between fights."

"Delicious," replies Zilch affably. Then he proceeds to the bridge for a well earned snack. I certainly hope the prisoners try to escape soon.

Nurse Ratchet wrote: ↑Tue Oct 01, 2024 7:06 pm By the time Zilch comes back to the bridge, he witnesses Ashrak's second attempt to corral the psychic space robot. This time around, Ashrak's beginner's luck has been depleted. After a quick exchange between MOD and Bert, Grizzelblak gets ready to pursue the space robot.

Zilch, his monstrous form towering over the bridge, arrives just in time to witness Ashrak's latest attempt to annihilate the fleeing space robot.

"You missed." He observes bluntly.

His googly eyes regard Ashrak with a mix of amusement and predatory interest, and he steps purposefully towards Ashrak's gun console. "You're doing it wrong," he explains. "The key is motivation. Imagine it's a giant cookie. Like this."

Zilch stares at the gun control display. Yes flee my little cookie. Oh but I will devour you! He imagines the space bot is a space cookie. His monstrous blue shaggy face contorts into a comical expression of hunger. "A big, fat, chocolate chip cookie." He pauses, his voice filled with longing. "With lots and lots of chocolate chips. Big, gooey chocolate chips." He stares unblinking at the display.

He fires a shot. "And then," he continues, "imagine it has a chewy center. A nice, nutty chewy center. Like a peanut butter cookie, but with hazelnuts."

Another shot, another description. "Imagine that cookie," Zilch continues, his voice sounding hungry as his eyes narrow as they focus on the gun's sights, "fresh from the oven, warm and gooey. The edges are golden brown, crisp and slightly crunchy."

He fires again. His voice drops to a whisper. "You want that cookie more than anything in the galaxy. You'll do anything to get that cookie."

Zilch's massive hands move with surprising dexterity.

"I'd cross the galaxy," Zilch growls in a terrifying tone, his voice filled with a primal hunger. "I'd wade through rivers of blood, pile up mountains of broken corpses, just to get my hands on that cookie. It's the ultimate prize, my just desserts!" Zilch fires again!

His eyes, normally filled with a disturbing predatory expression, now take on a crazed intensity. "I'd kill for that cookie," he continues, his voice, low and menacing, comes out of his now drooling mouth. "I'd kill everyone in this galaxy, just to have it all for myself."

The monster ignores any amusement, genuine fear, or nervous glances of his fellow Reavers. Zilch's obsession with the imaginary cookie, the fleeing robot, and his gun controls are the only thing that matters. Every sentence he utters is punctuated with a shot at the fleeing robot.

A flicker of distraction crosses his face as his mind wanders into a deep into his fantastical dreams of cookies. After two critical fails, his focus snaps back to reality. A bead of drool escapes his lips, trailing down to land on a floating tentacle of Ashrak that ventures too close. The monster's wide dangerous eyes narrow, his pupils dilate, and he takes aim for a final shot. With hungry and terrifying expression, Zilch unleashes a shot that is nothing short of spectacular.

"THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE!" Zilch exclaims triumphantly, his terrifying voice echoing through the bridge. "Now someone get me a cookie!"

NOTE: Zilch shoots using W.P. Heavy Military Weapons Skill +3 strike at level 6.

APM 9

Shoot the cookie 1d20+3: [3]+3 = 6
Shoot the cookie 1d20+3: [9]+3 = 12

Shoot the cookie 1d20+3: [16]+3 = 19
Shoot the cookie 1d20+3: [10]+3 = 13

Shoot the cookie 1d20+3: [16]+3 = 19
Shoot the cookie 1d20+3: [17]+3 = 20

Shoot the cookie 1d20+3: [1]+3 = 4 (CRIT FAIL)
Shoot the cookie 1d20+3: [1]+3 = 4 (CRIT FAIL)

Shoot the cookie 1d20+3: [20]+3 = 23 (CRIT SUCCESS)

Dr. White · Post by **Dr. White** » Thu Oct 03, 2024 11:01 am

JIC: 1d20: [19] = 19 , 1d100: [82] = 82
PER: 1d100: [24] = 24 vs. 78%

Conditions:

White enters a bit of a reverie as the others signal about the cyborg survivor. Oh boy! I wonder how that will interface with all the fun tech we have on the ship! Can I infect it with nanoplagues? All sorts of fun things could happen! After daydreaming about all the possibilities, White snaps out of it as two metallic-looking hound dogs emerge. Face beaming, the good doctor brings his face down to their level and squeals ”Well aren’t you two adorable! Any friend of Grizz is a friend of ours!” Then he remembers that one of the machines is beeping. ”Be right with you- let me just make sure this one isn’t going septic or comatose or something.” White taps a few dials, and calls upon his medical expertise if necessary, but if he concludes that the patient is recovering fine and can afford to stay in the tank a bit longer he’ll turn back to his new guests. ”Simply fascinating! How can I assist you? Some vivisection? A tour of the facilities? Do you… Do you need to eat?” The possibilities for scientific advancement are endless!

Post by **MOD** » Sun Oct 06, 2024 7:49 am

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [25*] = 1
JiC 1d20: [10] = 10 / 1d100: [26] = 26

Stuff
Energy form: RAF Roundel
Mathematics: advanced (82%) 1d100<82: [13*] = 1 - Assist Grizzelblak
Pilot: small spacecraft (77%) 1d100<77: [23*] = 1 - Assist Grizzelblak

With the all the chaos on the bridge MOD can't pay as much attention to eir prisoners as ey should. But ey catches enough to know that the silhouettes are lying, or at least not telling the whole truth.

Zuks wrote:They better kill that thing. That robot isn't alone and their lot are not mainstream slavers.

Maks wrote:THEY CAN HEAR YOU STUPID.

MOD's concentric white and red circles rotate horizontally towards slowly as if to look back at them, but ey halts about 15 degrees to the left of Maks and then swivels back to focus on the escaping robot. I will definitely want to know more about what they know later. So ey has Shazbut take the two to the makeshift brig.

MOD watches the screen fixedly as Grizzelblak opens fire. Thread the needle, mega-corporeal, c'mon, thread the needle. Ey's pleased that the robot is intact, less so that it is still flying away.

Grizzelblak wrote:"Three Direct Hits!!"

MOD contacts Bert to let him know that they will be chasing after the robot.

The Machine wrote: ↑Mon Sep 30, 2024 5:04 pm"Gonna be a job depending on what we want to do with this crate. Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Glad to hear that," MOD replies. "We'll get back here as quickly as possible."

And with that Grizzelblak is off to the races. If MOD needs to assist Grizzelblak, ey can calculate the best trajectory to intercept the robot or use the light interface to pilot. As they close in on their target, MOD says to Ashrak, "Those silhouettes know something about this robot. When we bring it in, I want you to dissect it while I question our prisoners a little more." Time to shine a little light on this mystery.

Shazbut · Post by **Shazbut** » Sun Oct 06, 2024 1:26 pm

MOD wrote: ↑Sun Oct 06, 2024 7:49 am MOD's concentric white and red circles rotate horizontally towards slowly as if to look back at them, but ey halts about 15 degrees to the left of Maks and then swivels back to focus on the escaping robot. I will definitely want to know more about what they know later. So ey has Shazbut take the two to the makeshift brig.

Shazbut, the mutant skunk bard of ballads and intergalactic popstar, long thought lost to the annals of history, materialises in MOD's overactive imagination. The sentient energy ball, perhaps overwhelmed by the relentless stress of his existence, has conjured up a vision of the legendary skunk hero. Why? Only he knows.

Nonetheless a mischievous grin spreads across Shazbut's face. This is unexpected, but not unwelcome. After all, hadn't he always dreamed of making a grand return? And what better way to do so than as a figment of a sentient energy ball's imagination?

The skunk, his luxurious black fur gleaming in the digital light, smirks and begins to serenade MOD with a familiar tune. Had MOD heard this track once in his musical playlist? Is he going mad? Only he knows.

With a flourish, Shazbut launches into the song, his voice rich and resonant, his words filled with a playful charm.

♪♪Know know know the Sils,
They are lying pigs.
If they call out for help
You will eat the sig

Stow stow stow the Sils,
Harshly in the brig.
If the Zilch eats them all,
You won't give a frig.♪♪

Ashrak · Post by **Ashrak** » Sun Oct 06, 2024 1:55 pm

Perception: 1d100: [82] = 82 /45% (+20 regarding explosives)
JiC: 1d100: [3] = 3 / 1d20: [1] = 1

Conditions: Natural HF: 13 | Exceptional vision [2 miles] | Naturally floating [Max 30 MPH] | | | | Current Numbers: I.S.P.: 160/184 |Sixth Sense [Inactive, 2ISP] | Forcefield: 88/110 | Electrokinesis [Manipulate Electrical Devices | 65ft | 4ISP | 7m:30s] | Telemechanics [22mins | Understand Tech 88%]

Skills
Telemechanics: 1d100: [59] = 59 /88% [Sync with the weapons console to fire with a newfound brutal efficiency ]
Galactic Lore, Aliens: 1d100: [46] = 46 /60% [Try to determine what the robot actually is]

Post

Grizz wrote:"Three Direct Hits!!"

Ashrak practically squeals with glee at the revelation. "Wheeee I'm starting to get the hang of this!" Ashrak says enthusiastically as he feels a sort of connection starting to form with the weapons console, as if he is bonding with it. A new sensation for the floating alien, to be sure. Ashrak feels himself having a deeper understanding with the weapons console and his pupils dilate at the realization. Oooh, interesting, very interesting. Ashrak purrs a sickly, coarse and disturbing purr as he grins. "I wonder, do robots know fear? Terror?" Ashrak whispers to himself in a truly menacing fashion. "GRIZZ! CHASE IT!" Ashrak exclaims.

MOD wrote:"Those silhouettes know something about this robot. When we bring it in, I want you to dissect it while I question our prisoners a little more."

Zilch wrote:"You're doing it wrong," he explains. "The key is motivation. Imagine it's a giant cookie. Like this."

Ashrak rolls his eyes at MOD. "FINE!" Ashrak says with mild protest before the giant hand of darkness attempts to grab the controls. Ashrak floats away like an insect dodging a hand in the air with a growl. "Hey, HEY!! I was just getting the hang of it!" Ashrak protests as his tentacles cross in annoyance. If Ashrak had any fear of Zilch, specifically, he was doing a good job hiding it. The big ones always muscle their way onto other's fun. Ashrak ponders. "Fine! Shoot your cookie! Or wait, wasn't the Doctor experimenting with a flesh machine? Go ask him to cook you up something special. I was just getting in tune with that!" Ashrak adds. "Besides, didn't you hear the floating ball of light? It wants the robot alive. Give me back controls!" Ashrak says.

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Sun Oct 06, 2024 2:10 pm

((Rolls carried))

Ashrak wrote: ↑Sun Oct 06, 2024 1:55 pm Ashrak rolls his eyes at MOD. "FINE!" Ashrak says with mild protest before the giant hand of darkness attempts to grab the controls. Ashrak floats away like an insect dodging a hand in the air with a growl. "Hey, HEY!! I was just getting the hang of it!" Ashrak protests as his tentacles cross in annoyance. If Ashrak had any fear of Zilch, specifically, he was doing a good job hiding it. The big ones always muscle their way onto other's fun. Ashrak ponders. "Fine! Shoot your cookie! Or wait, wasn't the Doctor experimenting with a flesh machine? Go ask him to cook you up something special. I was just getting in tune with that!" Ashrak adds. "Besides, didn't you hear the floating ball of light? It wants the robot alive. Give me back controls!" Ashrak says.

Zilch's eyes narrow. "Alive?" he asks, as he swivels a googly eyeball towards his tentacled crewmate. "Cookie is not alive!" His voice is low and menacing, a hunger bubbling beneath the surface. The monster is clearly in the throes of a feeding frenzy, his desire for the cookie overpowering any other thought or consideration. Nothing can dislodge him from the gun controls until he has satisfied his craving.

With one eye fixed on Ashrak with a disturbing intensity, the other fires his last shot.

re: Combat rolls: If possible, as per Ashrak and MOD's wishes, his last shot is aimed at crippling whatever robo propulsion legs the cookie has that helps it flee from his clutches. Called shot, legs, or somesuch thing.

Post by **Nurse Ratchet** » Sun Oct 06, 2024 10:58 pm

On the Rain of Death Transport:

Bert spent the next 30 minutes getting the diagnostics to the impulse engine online. The results are not foreboding. A few relays had to be replaced, some power had to be re-routed, but the work is simply tedious rather than difficult. He could get it online. The diagnostics were nice enough to show him which service hatch to access to replace a faulty part or replace to re-configure a power conduit. Bert estimates he has about two hours of work ahead of him. Once the work is completed, he could opt to pilot the transport from engineering or from the bridge.

Next, he pulled up any notes for where extra parts are located. Handily, the engineers console shares the same storage backend as the rest of the ship, a cost cutting measure by the TGE that now proved to be extremely convenient. The storage unit for the extra parts were on a separate floor, but he could get to that with ease. All in all, he estimated that he will need another hour or so before impulse power returned. (Burned your JIC for Computer Operations)

It suddenly dawned on Bert that his squad of psychos has just acquired plenty of extra bodies to lug and carry things around, although their specific expertise has yet to be determined. Meanwhile, out of the corner of his eye, Bert notices that the Quatoria Borg's pupils flashed a red light slowly, like the borg was on stand by mode, waiting to be activated.

On Grizzelblak's bridge:

Zilch's exposition on Zen and the Art of Visualizing Euphoria illuminates the universal truths within the metaphysics of quality. He enunciates these essential truths through the phenomenology of experiencing his favorite food, the 40 foot wide chocolate chip cookie. That what the object of pursuit actually is, doesn't matter. Zilch clearly demonstrates that mere characterization of sensory qualities isn't sufficient to describe the context of sensation. Rather, the significance of desire and fulfillment of carnal urges show a far richer context. There is often far greater meaning in the anticipation of experience than the experience itself.

Even when the task is complete, that Zilch realizes that he can no longer see his goals as metaphor. His yearning for cookies has not been abated as he continues to pepper the fleeing robot with a cannon that is built for shooting at frigate sized targets.

Suddenly, everyone on the bridge is quiet. By the grace of all things fortune, Zilch lands a decisive blow before the robot could regenerate its protective forcefield. The damage to its propulsion is evident. It is spinning rapidly out of control while moving gently towards the gravity well of a nearby moon.

A nervous voice comes over the overhead speakers. "Excuse... me..., Eric the Flan Machine here. Grizzelblak has downloaded a few cookie recipes to my replicator routines. Mr. Zilch, if you could please come down to the kitchen and I can work on calibrating them for you.

Ashrak in his connection with the weapons console realizes that there is a fair bit of expected intuition baked into the weapons interface. Reluctantly, he lets Zilch have a go at it, but not before taking a good long look at the robot. It has no arms or legs and seems to be propelled by a series of special nozzles at the back. He could barely make out the sensor pods in front.

This is a mythical creature called an Oracle. It belongs to an off shoot of human cyborgs from a different dimension. These things are literal locusts, a pox upon the megaverse itself. Ashrak realizes that this cyborg is a very powerful psion and it's robotic parts are specifically engineered to amplify its psionic powers, rather, as conventional wisdom would suggest, hindering them. While the psionic powers range are limited, especially in the environment of space, Ashrak realizes that bringing the cyborg onboard, whilst alive, could be very dangerous. (Sourcebook 2 Mechanoids, Pg. 48)

Meanwhile, MOD's mood continues to darken. The silhouettes are not what they seem and the Reavers have no time to waste. Coordinating with Bert one last time before taking off, MOD moves to the captain's chair and takes over the pilots controls, pursuing the fleeing robot while Grizzelblak concentrates on assisting Zilch and monitoring the prisoners.

Dr. White, in the medical bay:

The patient in the medbay stabilizes. She seems to be recuperating and the display shows that it is dialing back the sedatives while she is allowed to naturally sleep and recover. While much of her frost bite has been repaired, and it looks like her brain function has been largely restored, there is some light scarring, especially on the limbs. She will likely never work as a pleasurer again (-3 to PB).

Meanwhile, the two metallic canines flash a toothy grin as Dr. White seems to be forth coming and enthusasitic about conversation, despite both dogs randomly growing eyeballs and then magically disappearing again. In unison, they begin to speak:

"Thank you for accepting us. We have observed the prior crew for quite some time and have decided to emulate the appearance of an animal that seems to evoke joy and happiness in most species. Sentient life in this universe seem to prefer emotionally straight forward animals like the canine for their companionship."

"You seem to have activated a psionic power that allows you to understand the workings of machinery. We would like to mind bond with you by directing your psionic power to us, then we can perhaps understand each other easier."

The dogs wag their tails eagerly while flashing a toothy grin. Suddenly, Dr. White awakes in a white room, on a white hospital bed. Appearing in front of him are the two silver canines, this time with eye in their normal position only.

"You are a promethean, first stage, correct? Is it normal that within your race, you have decided to be hosts to other spiritual beings as well? Is that how you garner experiences? This one seems, quite ferocious."

Dr. White · Post by **Dr. White** » Tue Oct 08, 2024 11:00 am

JIC: 1d20: [12] = 12 , 1d100: [42] = 42
PER: 1d100: [5] = 5 vs. 78%

Conditions:

White peers down at the two dogs and squints, processing everything that’s happening. They… want to mind bond? With me? Oh boy! Breaking out into a psychotic grin, White claps his hands with glee ”Oh, how delightful! Let’s just have a look and see how you two tick!” He reaches out with his telemechanics power, and the next thing he knows he’s somewhere else. Most people would be terrified, or at least upset, at such a jarring transition but the good doctor is ever a fan of exploring the unknown. ”Oooooh, what’s this? A hospital? How… quaint…” Then he realizes the dogs are here too. ”Ah, hello boys. I take it this is some sort of mental representation of, well, your psyches? Fascinating!” White gets a little lost looking around before he realizes that the dogs are still talking, and that one of them asked him a question. The implications are a little troubling. A host? To a wha…? Oh. That. Huh. Well I guess that explains a few things. White nervously clears his throat before saying ”Well, in the order that they were asked- Yes, I am a Promethean. Yes, I am a first-stager, and in no great hurry to change that, thank you very much. Too much science to do, you know! What was the next one? Oh right. That. Well, I don’t know about this hosting business but no, I wouldn’t say it’s part of a tradition among my kind. More like an accident. Hopefully a happy one?” His voice brightens a little. ”But one thing I can assure you two, ah, gentlepups is that I am definitely not normal.” He grins with pride. ”And my experiences are my own, acquired the good old-fashioned way- observation, deduction, hypothesis, experimentation, and rinse and repeat. Now. Not that this isn’t fascinating, but what exactly am I doing here? Do you have specs to show me or anything? Oh, and will we be long? My crew is in a bit of a sticky situation at the moment and I’d rather not leave my body unattended for too long. Or are we experiencing some sort of temporal gradient that will ensure that I wake up approximately at the same time I came… here?” He grins again. Oh, so many questions. What a great day!

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Tue Oct 08, 2024 11:59 am

JIC: 1d20: [6] = 6 , 1d100: [85] = 85
Perception: 38% (53% in darkness) / 1d100: [51] = 51 (FAIL)

Conditions: ,

Nurse Ratchet wrote: ↑Sun Oct 06, 2024 10:58 pm Suddenly, everyone on the bridge is quiet. By the grace of all things fortune, Zilch lands a decisive blow before the robot could regenerate its protective forcefield. The damage to its propulsion is evident. It is spinning rapidly out of control while moving gently towards the gravity well of a nearby moon.

A nervous voice comes over the overhead speakers. "Excuse... me..., Eric the Flan Machine here. Grizzelblak has downloaded a few cookie recipes to my replicator routines. Mr. Zilch, if you could please come down to the kitchen and I can work on calibrating them for you.

Zilch's eyes light up at the mention of cookies. He glances at Ashrak, a momentary flicker of confusion crossing his face as he tries to reconcile the Rithe's appearance with the image of a cookie. How does a cookie get so misshapen?

Then he turns towards the overhead speakers, and he understands the message. His dilated pupils return to normal. "Ah!" he says, and his expression transforms into pure joy.

Zilch turns to Ashrak and MOD, a smug grin spreading across his face. "All my work here is done. You can deal with the robot problem. I'm going to deal with the cookie problem!" With that, he bounds out of the bridge, his excited shouts of "Grizzelblak is the best!" echoing down the corridor. He makes haste towards the kitchens, to learn how to create cookies with the Eric the Flan Machine.

When he arrives, he literally bounces with excitement. "COOKIES!"

Zilch's initial excitement gives way to intense focus as Eric begins his instructions. He listens intently, his eyes wide with anticipation. When the cookies are finally baked, Zilch devours them with childlike delight, crunching and munching happily. Then, he asks Eric to repeat the process over and over again.

Ashrak · Post by **Ashrak** » Sun Oct 13, 2024 8:32 pm

Perception: 1d100: [34] = 34 /45% (+20 regarding explosives)
JiC: 1d100: [77] = 77 / 1d20: [11] = 11

Conditions: Natural HF: 13 | Exceptional vision [2 miles] | Naturally floating [Max 30 MPH] | | | | Current Numbers: I.S.P.: 160/184 |Sixth Sense [Inactive, 2ISP] | Forcefield: 88/110 | Electrokinesis [Manipulate Electrical Devices | 65ft | 4ISP | 7m:30s] | Telemechanics [22mins | Understand Tech 88%]

Skills

Post

Once Ashrak identifies the robotic critter as one of the fabled Mechanoid Oracles, his pupils dilate as the twisted grin wraps on his face. "Ooooh, we are chasing a mechanoid oracle. One of those pesky invaders that are part machine, part organism. Truly fascinating. I'm sure the good Doctor would love to get his hands on it. If we can destroy it's mechanical body, it will die within an hour. Rumored to be a potent psychic, it will can be quite a threat even outside of it's mechanical body. It is also quite valuable. What do you say, Captain? Risk it and capture it.... or kill it?" Ashrak asks over the Reaver's radio net.

Zilch wrote: "All my work here is done. You can deal with the robot problem. I'm going to deal with the cookie problem!"

Ashrak gleefully resumes his place at the console as he relishes in his newfound understanding of it. I vote we blow it up, but this crew save magnificent blue, seem to abhore wanton death. Even to something like this evil robot. And that's coming from me!! Ashrak thinks, shaking his head in utter disgust at the idea of the Oracle being even worse than he is. Unthinkable. "Let's just keep shooting at it and destroy it's shell and waste it's mental energy, for now..." Ashrak considers menacingly, recognizing their rumored potent array of psionic abilities and stamina.

Ashrak will continue to fire at the Oracle until it's mechanical body is either destroyed or MOD tells him to stop.

The Machine · Post by **The Machine** » Tue Oct 15, 2024 10:27 am

Perception: 1d100: [19] = 19 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [3] = 3 ; 1d100: [34] = 34
Conditions: None

Nurse Ratchet wrote:Bert spent the next 30 minutes getting the diagnostics to the impulse engine online. The results are not foreboding. A few relays had to be replaced, some power had to be re-routed, but the work is simply tedious rather than difficult. He could get it online. The diagnostics were nice enough to show him which service hatch to access to replace a faulty part or replace to re-configure a power conduit. Bert estimates he has about two hours of work ahead of him. Once the work is completed, he could opt to pilot the transport from engineering or from the bridge.

Next, he pulled up any notes for where extra parts are located. Handily, the engineers console shares the same storage backend as the rest of the ship, a cost cutting measure by the TGE that now proved to be extremely convenient. The storage unit for the extra parts were on a separate floor, but he could get to that with ease. All in all, he estimated that he will need another hour or so before impulse power returned. (Burned your JIC for Computer Operations)

It suddenly dawned on Bert that his squad of psychos has just acquired plenty of extra bodies to lug and carry things around, although their specific expertise has yet to be determined. Meanwhile, out of the corner of his eye, Bert notices that the Quatoria Borg's pupils flashed a red light slowly, like the borg was on stand by mode, waiting to be activated.

Bert is for the most part content where he is. Working on a problem, that has an obvious solution is right up the Techno-Wizards alley. When Bert notices the borg's eyes blink so to speak. "Should I wake you up? Wonder if you'll try to kill me if I do?" Bert wonders aloud, before shrugging and looking for whatever mechanism will bring the borg out of standby.

If it works, Bert looks at the Borg. "Morning, It'd be real swell if you didn't do anything rash and try and attack me." Bert says.

If it doesn't work, Bert shrugs. "Another for Doc White."

Post by **MOD** » Fri Oct 18, 2024 6:36 pm

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [9*] = 1
JiC 1d20: [3] = 3 / 1d100: [3] = 3

Stuff
Energy form: RAF Roundel

MOD ponders the situation as Grizzelblak approaches the escaping robot. Normally ey'd want the thing destroyed, leave no evidence of the Reavers most recent bad acts. But this time it's complicated. First of all, the Reavers are on a mission to hunt down some drug dealers, and that robot might be a lead. MOD is torn between a love explosions (as most phantoms do) and a creeping sense of responsibility that M has grown to resent. Why the fux do I want to be responsible all of the sudden?

And the mission is complicated by the fact that it involves ier nemesis, The Baron, and his wayward kin. Oh, I'd love to just go down to the brig with Ash, strip-mine the psyches of those two fuxors of everything they know about Fergie, light them up, and space their corpses. But they could be useful assets still, and the Reavers did offer them safe passage after rescuing them from slavers who may have also been (some of) the drug dealers they are hunting. But I have to be fuxing principled on top of being the fuxing responsible one. Fux my being!

But really, it's just something doesn't sit well with M about this whole situation. Ey knows that the silhouettes are hiding something. And there was something off about the slavers, even scummier than the average scumbag slavers. (Which is in part why ey had zero compunction about exploding them.) In all, MOD feels an unease at ey cannot articulate, so ey bottles it up and starts to grimly chant a Carly Slay song, eir voice making off kilter chirps between verses: ... drive so fast baby through the night/ Drive so fast and they'll never gonna find you/ Drive so fast saying no goodbyes...

Ashrak wrote: ↑Sun Oct 13, 2024 8:32 pm"Ooooh, we are chasing a mechanoid oracle. One of those pesky invaders... What do you say, Captain? Risk it and capture it.... or kill it?"

And then Ashrak pushes all that anger and fear up into the forefront of MOD's mind. Fuxing hells. Ash doesn't want to (just) blow up that thing for the lulz. He is actually fuxing worried. MOD abruptly stops singing mid chirp. "Fux it. You want the scrap for a trophy, go get yourself a fuxing trophy," MOD says, faking a chipper cavalier spirit. "You said it would live an hour after you slag it? Think you can psionically pick it apart before it dies?"

Ashrak · Post by **Ashrak** » Fri Oct 18, 2024 7:29 pm

Ashrak wrote: ↑Sun Oct 13, 2024 8:32 pm Perception: 1d100: [34] = 34 /45% (+20 regarding explosives)
JiC: 1d100: [77] = 77 / 1d20: [11] = 11

Conditions: Natural HF: 13 | Exceptional vision [2 miles] | Naturally floating [Max 30 MPH] |
HU2E, pg 256 | Invisible to All forms of mechanical/technological detection and scanning (appears as barely noticeable blur), has to physically trip alarms | Hard to notice by anyone: +10 Prowl/Palming/Concealment | Can cloak one additional individual at level 3
|
[HU2E, pg 234 | Easily recognize different textures: 70%+2%/Lvl | Identify Fabric or Material: 60%+2%/Lvl | Notice minute temperature changes: 60%+2%/Lvl | +10% to Rogue/ Card Sharp, Palming, Concealment, Pick Pockets/Locks, All Electronics/Mechanical/Medical skills | +1 Strike Aimed/Called Shots | -5 when Blinded v -8]
|
Duration: 12 days in space before he needs to find an atmosphere. Bonuses in space: +1 APM, +2 Strike, +1 Parry/Disarm/Pull, +3 Dodge, +25 SDC (MDC for MDC Settings) | Half Damage from Magic-based Cold, Impervious to all other forms of Cold Damage | Half Damage from attacks Gravity Manipulation attacks | Impervious to all forms of radiation.
| Current Numbers: I.S.P.: 160/184 |Sixth Sense [Inactive, 2ISP] | Forcefield: 88/110 | Electrokinesis [Manipulate Electrical Devices | 65ft | 4ISP | 7m:30s] | Telemechanics [22mins | Understand Tech 88%]

MOD wrote:"Fux it. You want the scrap for a trophy, go get yourself a fuxing trophy," ... "You said it would live an hour after you slag it? Think you can psionically pick it apart before it dies?"

Ashrak sways while maintaining control of the weapons console, his long tail coiled beneath him so that the blade portion is lightly tapping the metallic floorboard of the bridge as he seems to hum? "Mm-hmm, Mm-hmm, Mm-hmm-hmm... Questionable. Even outside their shells they are potent, what one might call a brain to an entire army. My father ran into one many years ago, and it took several Rithe to overpower it. It would be safest to simply kill it, no one would shed a tear for it." Ashrak advises, perhaps showing for one of the first times his truly calculated and methodical nature versus the carefree lover of destruction he normally is. "BUT, there might be some means the good Doctor and Grizzleback can come up with if we want to... dissect it. A brain this far out, on it's own... is truly fascinating. The secrets it must hold would be worth millions." Ashrak then adds, his words practically dripping with venom at the comment of dissecting the Oracle.

"In either case, it's shell must be destroyed first. I wonder if we can collect the pieces of it's shell to build me a suit hehehe." Ashrak then declares, his tone and love of destruction seemingly reinvigorated. Ashrak will then focus on blasting the shell of the Oracle repeatedly to pick it apart without actually blowing up the containment chamber where the brain sits. Mmm, I wonder if it can breathe in space without it's little shell... what a wonderful experiment! Ashrak thinks to himself and resumes firing rapidly. Almost each shot Ashrak makes is done with an accompanied "Pew-Pew" from the demented alien.

Post by **Nurse Ratchet** » Sun Oct 20, 2024 3:09 pm

At the medbay:

Dr White wrote: ”But one thing I can assure you two, ah, gentlepups is that I am definitely not normal.” He grins with pride. ”And my experiences are my own, acquired the good old-fashioned way- observation, deduction, hypothesis, experimentation, and rinse and repeat. Now. Not that this isn’t fascinating, but what exactly am I doing here? Do you have specs to show me or anything? Oh, and will we be long? My crew is in a bit of a sticky situation at the moment and I’d rather not leave my body unattended for too long. Or are we experiencing some sort of temporal gradient that will ensure that I wake up approximately at the same time I came… here?”

The silver pups look at each other and ponder aloud, eerily, together:
"We suppose what is being done is that our nanite particles have decided to project this imagery into your skull and are talking directly to the parts of your brain like you are dreaming. We've not commandeered anything, except in you letting us work our process, you have subconciously let down some safe guards that allowed us an easier time. (OOC: Dr. White basically opted not to save vs psionics or mind control).

We are trying to go about this quickly. While your faculties feel like they are your own, it seems that the passenger has deliberately depressed certain emotional feedback loops while using your scientific inquisition for its own ends. We can remove it for you. It is in our nature to do these things.

While we don't want to make your mind up for you, if you don't let us remove this presence, we're afraid that we cannot risk this mind bond process again."

In the Kitchen!

Eric and cookies. Eric first makes a set of peanut butter chunk chocolate fudge cookies. Then he tries a batch of white chocolate almond cookie. Then he finally makes a blueberry cheese cake cookie. Each batch is better than the last, with Eric noticeably a little worn out. At the end of the 3rd batch, Eric says he finally has found the thing. Italian Pizzelle he says. And this patch takes a bit longer. Eric starts mumbling to himself, singing to himself even. The lights on the replicator unit seem to have taken on a life of itself.

Then the patch rolls out of the replicator. The pizzelle pieces are gently warm, but crispy to the touch. The wafers hold their shape but their aroma take hold of Zilch's senses. Each bite is a bundle of joy released.

Eric is pleased with himself. Then unceremoniously, Eric announes he is going to meditate on all the recipes downloaded (Grizzelblak apparently had found a recipe collection and just fed the AI replicator some 415 million recipes). Then he shuts off, leaving only a standby light that is warmly pulsing.
At this juncture, after eating through about 150 cookies each the size of a tea cup saucer, Zilch should feel his gnawing hunger fade to a nice warm lull.

In the bridge!

MOD is absorbed in contemplation. A sense of duty overcomes em. Followed by a sense of excitement. Grizzelblak suddenly announces on the speakers "Guys, can we just slag this thing?"

Ashrak dutifully continues to take shots at the runaway Oracle. He finally connects a few shots in succession, but the oracle is able to throw up psychic shields to intercede. Suddenly, a giant bolt of plasma gathers itself just above Grizzelblak's head and hurls itself towards the Oracle. Its armour is noticeably warped and it doesn't look like it has propulsion any more. It's spinning aimlessly in space at a couple hundred miles an hour. Grizzelblak should not have any issue catching up to it.

Suddenly, the radio pipes up. It is a transmission from on a Hartigal Combine frequency. "Hello Reavers, we are the HCN Jortsteen and we work for the same people. We were told to track the Roach's trajectory and we seem to have lost you. Is everything okay?"

A sensor sweep will have to determine exactly where the signal is coming from.

On the Rain of Death:

Bert sees the standby hue from the Borg's eyes. On the Quatoria's right arm, the flesh has been frozen and the metal finger tips have been exposed. Strangely enough, Bert sees that vibro razor like claws have been extended and they were actively vibrating. Jumping back, he sees the following scratched into the ground next to the Quatoria:

"Need O2. Going on standby."

Bert suddenly remembers he had discovered a hard spacer suit while looking for supplies. Surely that will have enough of an oxygen supply once the cyborg wolfen is properly dressed for his environment...

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Mon Oct 21, 2024 2:36 am

JIC: 1d20: [8] = 8 , 1d100: [4] = 4
Perception: 38% (53% in darkness) / 1d100: [71] = 71 (FAIL)

Conditions: ,

High on sugar and surrounded by a seemingly endless supply of sweet treats, thanks to a certain food replicator, Zilch finds himself slipping into a hallucinatory state. The following account may or may not be a completely accurate portrayal of reality, as the line between dream and reality blurred into a delicious, sugar-induced haze.

The Battle of Grizzleblak's Kitchens

Belligerents:

General Zilch
Eric the Flan Machine

Units involved:

General Zilch
Peanut butter chunk chocolate fudge cookies
White chocolate almond cookies
Italian pizzelle elite cookies

Result:
Total victory for General Zilch

The once-quiet kitchens of Grizzleblak erupted into chaos. A culinary battle had begun, the combatants: a legion of freshly baked cookies. At the helm, General Zilch, his monstrous form towering over the battlefield, stood ready to defend his honor and his insatiable appetite.

The first wave, a battalion of peanut butter chunk chocolate fudge cookies, charged forward, their chocolate chips glinting menacingly. Zilch, his eyes narrowed with determination, unleashed a barrage of bites, his powerful jaws crushing the cookies into submission. mMMMmm delicious!

The second wave, a squadron of white chocolate almond cookies, advanced in a more calculated manner. Their delicate appearance belied their surprising resilience. Zilch countered with a series of strategic chews, his tactics honed by years of culinary warfare. Nom nom nom nom!

Finally, Eric the Flan Machine launched its ultimate attack: a regiment of Italian pizzelle cookies. These warriors were a force to be reckoned with, their crispy texture and warm aroma making them a formidable foe. Zilch, his appetite renewed, engaged in a fierce battle with the pizzelle cookies, his jaws working overtime to devour the crunchy invaders. *crunch* *crunch* so *crunch* *crunch* *crunch* good! *crunch* *crunch*

As the battle raged on, Eric, the Flan Machine, relentlessly sent wave after wave of sugary troops into the fray. His creations, though formidable, were no match for the ravenous Zilch. The once-peaceful kitchens were transformed into a battlefield, the sweet aroma of freshly killed cookies mixing with the defeated cries of the fallen. A carpet of crumbs littered the floor, in pieces so small no one could identify the fallen.

After what felt like hours, the battle finally ended. Zilch, his monstrous shaggy form covered in crumbs, stood victorious. The enemy had been defeated, its remnants scattered across the battlefield. Eric, his energy levels depleted, retreated and shut down for a recharge.

And so, the Battle of Grizzleblak's Kitchens came to a close. Zilch, the hero of the hour, was left to savor the spoils of his victory. As he devoured the remaining pizzelle cookies, a satisfied smile spread across his monstrous face.

Soon there were no more enemies to face. So Zilch cast his googly-eyed gaze over the battlefield. A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he uttered the famous phrase, "I came, I saw, I... " Then, with a thunderous belch that shook the very foundations of the ship, he declared his victory.

"Thundered."

His mission accomplished, Zilch saunters back to the bridge, blissfully brushing cookie crumbs from his fur as he walks.

Post by **MOD** » Wed Oct 23, 2024 6:48 am

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [63] = 0
JiC 1d20: [10] = 10 / 1d100: [21] = 21

Stuff
Energy form: RAF Roundel

Butcher's Bill
-5 P.P.E.

Grizzelblak wrote:"Guys, can we just slag this thing?"

"Fux it up," MOD replies watching intently. Ey turns eir red circle to Ashrak, "If you can salvage any intel from it, all the better. If not, I grok fully, or however the fuxing prometheans say it."

Who? wrote:"Hello Reavers, we are the HCN Jortsteen and we work for the same people. We were told to track the Roach's trajectory and we seem to have lost you. Is everything okay?"

Da fux? MOD focuses on eir interface in the captain's chair. Ey gets on the radio and responds: "Yuh... Hi! Yeah! This is Mavis - I mean Captain Deranged - huh, that's not a great name, neh?" Eir red circle rolls in a tight circle as ey tries to think quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that Ortiz was having us followed. How can we service you?"

Assuming that the crew of Jortseen just repeats their question M replies: "Yeah. We're doing fine, just walking without rhythm like we do. But srsly, why are you tracking us?"

And if need be, MOD will reassure the others by saying: "You can tell Ortiz to relax. We're on the job and should return with some trophies for her in short time."

When Ashrak finally cracks the robot's armor, MOD lets out a hum of relief. "Alright, let's set a course back to pick up Bert."

If Grizzelblak can get back to the crippled Rain of Death on her own, MOD glides off the captain chair. Ok, there's something that I'm missing in all of this. I need to know everything the silhouettes know about these slavers. Ey announces to everyone on the bridge: "I'm going to the brig to question our guests."

Ashrak · Post by **Ashrak** » Wed Oct 23, 2024 9:20 am

Grizz wrote:"Guys, can we just slag this thing?"

MOD wrote:"Fux it up," MOD replies watching intently. Ey turns eir red circle to Ashrak, "If you can salvage any intel from it, all the better. If not, I grok fully, or however the fuxing prometheans say it."

Ashrak turns on his coiled tail towards MOD with his customary twisted grin as he bears his razorlike teeth and nods. "One slagged Oracle, coming up! GRIZZ! CHASE IT!" Ashrakdeclares, thrusting one tentacle into the air then turning back towards the console and unleashing the full force of Grizz's weapons systems with a maniacal laugh fit for nightmares. Ashrak won't stop shooting until it stops moving, and then a few more for good measure. If Ashrak determines it's shell is destroyed, Ashrak will stop attacking and look to Grizz.

"Can you scoop up the body and parts? The good doctor might want to dissect it and I want to look at the tech." Ashrak coos. Hmm, yes, I need actual armor anyways. I wonder if Bert can help me fashion a unique set of armor for me with this... Ashrak considers.

MOD wrote:"I'm going to the brig to question our guests."

If the Oracle has been safely dealt with, Ashrak will chime up. "Oh, oh! Can I come... I want to... help." Ashrak says, practically dripping the word help as if it were venom from his lips.

The Machine · Post by **The Machine** » Wed Oct 23, 2024 3:16 pm

Perception: 1d100: [53] = 53 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [4] = 4 ; 1d100: [80] = 80
Conditions: None

Bert looks at the scratched note. "Makes sense I guess." Bert says as he remembers the spare suit. "Well let's take the gamble I guess." Bert says, as he struggles to get the likely heavy Wulfen Cyborg into the environmental suit. Never a dull day, never... Bert thinks as he works.

Once the Wulfen is in the suit, he checks the seals and sets the environmentals to work. "Should be good to go." Bert says, as he takes a few steps back. "Are you gonna be chill, or did I make a mistake in getting you back on your feet?" Bert asks.

Assuming he's chill, Bert moves on with the task at hand. "Names The Machine, and I need some help moving stuff so I can limp this beast somewhere safe, you up to helping?" Bert asks, before showing the Wulfen what needs done, and getting to work.

Post by **Nurse Ratchet** » Sat Oct 26, 2024 8:23 pm

MOD, Ashrak:

"Commodore Ortiz asked us to keep her abreast with the return of your goods. We were to assist if you sounded an SOS for any reason. We lost track of your ship and we didn't want to return to the Commodore with the news that we lost you to the void of space. I am glad we found you Captain Deranged and that you are in good health. The HCN Jortsteen can be reached at the subspace frequency <535819 MHZ> and we will come to your aid so long as you are within this system. Jortsteen out."

MOD's request to Grizz is answered affirmatively, albeit cheekily:

"Will do Captain Deranged. We will pick up whatever's left of the Oracle, then we will head back to the Rain of Death transport!"

Grizz says to Ashrak:

"I'll get close enough to whatever's left of that cyborg and will scoop him into shuttle bay via telekinesis. It looks heavy."

Grizzelblak then speeds along to the Oracle and arrives momentarily, then maneuvers whatever is left of the oracle into the shuttle bay.

Ashrak then decides to follow MOD along into the brig area. There are currently three cells that are occupied, along with a hyper vigilante Vinny whom is standing guard over the area.

Zilch:

Grizzelblak buzzes Zilch

"Hey Zilch, could you fetch Dr. White and go into the shuttle bay and take the Oracle Cyborg into the med bay? It's heavy and it will take the both of you."

If Zilch arrives at the medbay, he will see that Dr. White is on one knee with each of his hands on one of the silver dogs. As Zilch approaches, he realizes that the silver dogs are covered in eyeballs and a few of them are tracking his every movement.

Dr. White:

The silver dogs await the decision from Dr. White as the good doctor contemplates. Perhaps realizing that this is a difficult decision, or perhaps that something else has interrupted the process, the dogs merely state:

"Perhaps this is not a good time. Please let us know if you change your mind."

Suddenly, Dr. White wakes up from his mind meld and sees Zilch in the door way, along with both nanite shaped dogs waiting in earnest.

Bert:

The Cyborg's blinking red eyes suddenly stop glowing. As the suit is made ready, Bert can feel the Quatoria slowly coming back to conciousness. Within a minute or so, Bert could see Wolfen's chest move, as if it was breathing.

Turning on the radio, the Wolfen shows Bert thie radio frequency that his suit is on and within moments, they can communicate effectively in a space vacuum.

"Is the fight over already? I can help out. I need passage back to CAF space. Do you think the Captain would be willing to drop me off at a Hardigal Combine space port? What were you dudes doing out here anyway"

Ashrak · Post by **Ashrak** » Sun Oct 27, 2024 4:28 pm

Grizz wrote:"I'll get close enough to whatever's left of that cyborg and will scoop him into shuttle bay via telekinesis. It looks heavy."

Ashrak clasps and coils two of his tentacles together in approval. "Excellent! Let me know if its remains give it any trouble and do let the good doctor know he has a new test subject!" Ashrak calls out to Grizz as he releases the weapons controls and follows MOD back down towards the Brig.

Ashrak floats near MOD, with his tail curled up and the blade pointing down. "Want me to do a deep dive into their minds?" Ashrak offers MOD while holding up one of his tentacles. "They can't hide the truth from me, hehehehe. I can dig.. deep." Ashrak says venomously.

When they reach the Brig, Ashrak will clasp his six tentacles together, two at a time, over each other like 3 arches as his bladed tail coils over his right shoulder, pointing at the prisoners. "Now, you get one chance to answer our questions openly and honestly... before I rip them from your minds." Ashrak threatens, already activating his normal telepathy and reading their surface thoughts to get a good read on their intentions and who might need a deep dive.

Dr. White · Post by **Dr. White** » Tue Oct 29, 2024 2:31 pm

JIC: 1d20: [9] = 9 , 1d100: [30] = 30
PER: 1d100: [57] = 57 vs. 78%

Conditions:

White blinks, his normal exuberance for the unknown swept away by the metal dogs’ offer. And inexplicable commentary on… his psyche? Presence? What in…? Oh that? Oh my. Fascinating. Uh. Hum… For once the good doctor is at a loss for words, and after a time the dogs take his indecision as a choice all its own. Which, to be fair, it is. He clears his throat nervously and stammers, ”Uh… Yes, well. You know. Um. We, uh, we just met. And I rather like the way my brain is. Not that I like the idea of… well, whatever it is mucking about up there. But it hasn’t really caused any problems for me just yet that I can see. Not that this idea of a mind bond isn’t fascinating. But, uh, yeah. Let me think this one over. I’m a scientist, you know. Good at thinking about stuff.” Rather lamely, White wakes up and sits up. He regards the dogs for a moment with a confused expression, then turns to Zilch. ”Well hello! Sorry about that- just had a bit of a mind-to-mind with these goodest boys here. What’s the situation? Still need me to help with that Quatoria or whatever he is?” Blinking away his confusion, White sets out to help however he can (especially if it involves surgery).

Post by **MOD** » Tue Oct 29, 2024 2:44 pm

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [9*] = 1
JiC 1d20: [11] = 11 / 1d100: [79] = 79

Stuff
Energy form: RAF Roundel
Limited mind reading (68%) 1d100<68: [11*] = 1 - Plz don't lie Maks

Capitalist Overseers wrote:""Commodore Ortiz asked us to keep her abreast... so long as you are within this system. Jortsteen out"

"Roger that," MOD replies over the radio. Ortiz is really antsy about these pirates, isn't she? Something's really not right with this job. Who the fux are we hunting? Is this some secret job for Thraxus where we're being sent to stop a bunch of stoopid fuxors from reducing this place to the Two Galaxies? "We appreciate the offer and we'll check in if anything interesting pops up."

Now MOD is even more interested in what the silhouettes might be hiding. "Grizz, I'll be right back. Set a course back for Bert's location, neh?" Ey floats off the bridge, and notices Ash following closely behind.

Ashrak wrote: ↑Wed Oct 23, 2024 9:20 am"Oh, oh! Can I come... I want to... help."

"Nuh..." MOD stammers. "Shouldn't you be checking that robot thing? This will be quick. I just find out some details about the silhouettes' business."

Ashrak wrote: ↑Sun Oct 27, 2024 4:28 pm"Want me to do a deep dive into their minds? They can't hide the truth from me, hehehehe. I can dig.. deep."

"I got this," ey replies firmly. "I'll call you in if I need someone to clean the scorch marks off the wall or something." Eir white circle contracts to a thin outline around the red circle. "Find out what you can about that robot, then we'll exchange notes."

MOD floats to the brig and gives Phara a polite bob. "I need to talk to the younger silhouette."

Ey brightens up by about an additional 1500 lumens (at let's say 2 P.P.E per minute?) and then enters Maks' cell. Ey watches with inner glee as the silhouette recoils at the bright light. "Hi... Maks is it?" ey asks in a polite but indifferent tone. "We just shot down that robot. Turned out to be some pretty exotic hardware."

Eir white circle expands creating a slightly brighter or at least more abrasive light. "You wouldn't know much about that robot would you?"

Assuming that Maks tries to dither, MOD gets a little brighter, 2000 lumens. "Listen, Maks, I like you. You're family with Fergie, and that means something." Ey lowers back to 1000 lumens. While still uncomfortably bright, it is noticeably darker as MOD gets real with the young silhouette. "Don't lie to me. Because if you do, then I have suspect that you were working with the slavers. And if I think you're working with the slavers, then that means you're no longer a welcome guest on my ship. You're an invader. And if you're invading my ship, I'll have to do things that you'll regret."

"So tell me about those slavers. You said you were trying to make some deal involving prisons with them. So who did they work for? Where is their base?"

Ashrak · Post by **Ashrak** » Tue Oct 29, 2024 3:08 pm

[rolls held]

MOD wrote:"Shouldn't you be checking that robot thing? This will be quick. I just find out some details about the silhouettes' business."

Ashrak drops all six of his tentacles in an attempt to literally pout while he floats with MOD. "Fine! But if one of them is being... difficult. Let me know, yes? I do so love making difficult guests cooperative. Hehehe" Ashrak says and starts to float away

MOD wrote:"I got this," ey replies firmly. "I'll call you in if I need someone to clean the scorch marks off the wall or something." ..."Find out what you can about that robot, then we'll exchange notes."

Ashrak feigns offense. "Clean!? Ha, hehe haha ho ho. No." Ashrak rebukes. "I might make one of them clean up whatever remains of their friend you leave, though, hehehehe" Ashrak counters with a twisted grin then waves his tentacle side to side. "Yes, yes. I will go investigate the corpse of the oracle. If you end up torturing them, queue up the radio so I can listen in!" Ashrak suggests then shakes his head menacingly. "Hehehe, just kidding. Anywho!" Ashrak finishes and then floats towards the cargo hold where the hopefully dead oracle has been scooped up to investigate it.

Ashrak queues his radio on the way. "Ahhem, Good doctor! Doctor White! Would you like to see the corpse of an oracle?! Might be a good science project for you. It's in the bay." Ashrak radios Doctor White as he heads down.

The Machine · Post by **The Machine** » Tue Oct 29, 2024 4:15 pm

Perception: 1d100: [38] = 38 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [2] = 2 ; 1d100: [9] = 9
Conditions: None

Nurse Ratchet wrote:"Is the fight over already? I can help out. I need passage back to CAF space. Do you think the Captain would be willing to drop me off at a Hardigal Combine space port? What were you dudes doing out here anyway"

Bert shrugs. "Yeah fights been over for a bit. I can see about dropping you off at the port. Me, I was minding my own business, the others were just coming back from a shopping trip." Bert answers.

"I'm trying to get this boat back to limping, so I can either take it to my base or sell it to Hardigal. So what I need from you is a pair of hands and a strong back." Bert says, before showing the Wulfen what he needs from where.

"My partners should be back soonish, if their done mucking about." Bert adds.

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Tue Oct 29, 2024 4:32 pm

JIC: 1d20: [11] = 11 , 1d100: [71] = 71
Perception: 38% (53% in darkness) / 1d100: [35] = 35 (SUCCESS)

Conditions: ,

Nurse Ratchet wrote: ↑Sat Oct 26, 2024 8:23 pm Grizzelblak buzzes Zilch

"Hey Zilch, could you fetch Dr. White and go into the shuttle bay and take the Oracle Cyborg into the med bay? It's heavy and it will take the both of you."

If Zilch arrives at the medbay, he will see that Dr. White is on one knee with each of his hands on one of the silver dogs. As Zilch approaches, he realizes that the silver dogs are covered in eyeballs and a few of them are tracking his every movement

"Always when I'm eating!" Zilch mutters as he snaps out of his sugar induced hallucination. He looks about the kitchens, and sees cookie crumbs everywhere, and he chuckles. "I'm on my way. The snack was delightful."

Dr. White wrote: ↑Tue Oct 29, 2024 2:31 pmRather lamely, White wakes up and sits up. He regards the dogs for a moment with a confused expression, then turns to Zilch. ”Well hello! Sorry about that- just had a bit of a mind-to-mind with these goodest boys here. What’s the situation? Still need me to help with that Quatoria or whatever he is?” Blinking away his confusion, White sets out to help however he can (especially if it involves surgery).

Zilch regards the 'dogs' curiously. "Are they friends or food?"

Presumably they are not food, and Zilch is informed thus.

"Right then," Zilch rumbles, and then he leads Doc White towards the cargo bay. "Let's see what this heavy thing is." As they enter the cargo area, Zilch's eyes scan the room, searching for the object. He sees Ashrak there.

"So, what is this heavy thing we need to move?" he asks Ashrak, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "Is it edible?" His googly eyes twinkled with a mixture of curiosity and hunger. "Grizzelblak called it a Oracle Cyborg. So I expect it's crunchy."

He looks closer, and holds his cosmic stabby thing in his left hand. Just in case.

Lore: Demons & Monsters 60%: 1d100: [47] = 47
Lore: Faeries & Creatures of Magic 55%: 1d100: [10] = 10

Dr. White · Post by **Dr. White** » Tue Oct 29, 2024 6:08 pm

Dr. White wrote: ↑Tue Oct 29, 2024 2:31 pmJIC: 1d20: [9] = 9 , 1d100: [30] = 30
PER: 1d100: [57] = 57 vs. 78%

Conditions:

Uncharacteristically, White jumps at the radio summons from Ashrak. In a tinny, nervous voice he sends back "AHhh, OK! Sounds great! I'll be down in a jiffy!" To Zilch he adds (in a similar tone), "Ah, yes. Friends, definitely friends, yessiree!" Such good friends they offer to go digging around in your noggin at first meet. With perhaps a little too much haste White gets up and starts heading down to the bay. To Zilch, he adds "Best not, just yet anyway. You never know what sorts of funky alloys go into these things. Give it until after a proper dissection and analysis. Ahem." He coughs and returns to the radio as he walks "Now, you said it was an 'oracle' cyborg? Fascinating. Izzat some sort of species designation, or just a very confident precog? Seems a little incongruous with the whole cyborg motif. Ooo, I can't wait to get in there!" White trots on up and helps wrangle the specimen to the lab (or other location if MOD insists).

Post by **Nurse Ratchet** » Sat Nov 09, 2024 2:24 am

Med bay and then Shuttle Bay: (Dr. White, Zilch, Ashrak)

Dr. White wrote: ”Uh… Yes, well. You know. Um. We, uh, we just met. And I rather like the way my brain is. Not that I like the idea of… well, whatever it is mucking about up there. But it hasn’t really caused any problems for me just yet that I can see. Not that this idea of a mind bond isn’t fascinating. But, uh, yeah. Let me think this one over. I’m a scientist, you know. Good at thinking about stuff.” Rather lamely, White wakes up and sits up. He regards the dogs for a moment with a confused expression, then turns to Zilch. ”Well hello! Sorry about that- just had a bit of a mind-to-mind with these goodest boys here. What’s the situation? Still need me to help with that Quatoria or whatever he is?” Blinking away his confusion, White sets out to help however he can (especially if it involves surgery).

The two silver dogs gaze up to Dr. White as he comes around. In unison, they say:

"We can talk some more. In the mean time we are going to take our experiences back to the collective and continue to process all this new stimuli."

As Zilch walks by, the dogs look towards each other while various eyes continue to ogle at the monster.

"Fascinating..."

The duo march back to the tank, retracing the steps and picking up whatever quiksilver particles that have been scattered along the way.

Meanwhile, Zilch and Dr. White head to the shuttle bay, where they are greeted by Ashrak. Zilch eyes the silver body of the borg. There are no external thrusters. Aside from the damage received in the last fight, there are no openings to the borg body. There seems to be a sensor array of sorts on the head of the borg, but it needs repair.

Zilch surmises that it is too heavy to lift by himself.

Suddenly, Ashrak and Dr. White feel a quick attempt respectively to attack their minds. The attacks fail. Zilch feels a shiver shoot up his back for a second, but the sensation quickly goes away.

(OOC: Roll for init. This thing is gonna fight)

Brig: (MOD, Vinny)

MOD arrives at the Brig section of the ship. Vinny has her helmet on. Upon enquiry, Vinny simply points to the room where Maks is located. The door opens from the outside only. The cell is actually a modified ships quarters. It is spartan but not uncomfortable. There is no actual toilet.

Maks shirks at the sight of MOD. He shrinks to the corner of the room, eyes averted. In obvious discomfort, he tries to be courteous:

"How may I help you?"

The surface thoughts are very loud. They become incredibly hard to ignore
"The shining ball is here! What does it want? Uncle? What do I tell her?"
"Keep your mind still. Keep your mind still. Concentrate and keep your guard up.'
"Yes uncle..."

Suddenly, the telepathic messages go quiet. Any attempt to read surface thoughts just lead to a quiet hum.

MOD wrote: Assuming that Maks tries to dither, MOD gets a little brighter, 2000 lumens. "Listen, Maks, I like you. You're family with Fergie, and that means something." Ey lowers back to 1000 lumens. While still uncomfortably bright, it is noticeably darker as MOD gets real with the young silhouette. "Don't lie to me. Because if you do, then I have suspect that you were working with the slavers. And if I think you're working with the slavers, then that means you're no longer a welcome guest on my ship. You're an invader. And if you're invading my ship, I'll have to do things that you'll regret."

"So tell me about those slavers. You said you were trying to make some deal involving prisons with them. So who did they work for? Where is their base?"

Suddenly, Maks sits straight up. His legs cross legged, with his hands on his lap, he momentarily closes his eyes, as if to center himself.

"As you are probably aware, the galaxy is in a bit of turmoil right now. The CAF and the TGE are in the middle of a fracas that is turning into full scale war. Our family operates in a system where amongst other things, we are in charge of penal colonies. We were tasked to find recruits within the colony. They were to be sent to the frontlines after minor bioengineering modifications"

Maks voice turns cooler and deeper as he speaks.
"As the war effort started, we realized that if a bio engineering augmentation failed, we were expected to terminate the subject and move on. At the rate of the failures of over 35%, we realized that our compatriots in the Empire wasn't sending their best and brightest to do the flesh work. They just wanted augmented soldiers at the fraction of the normal cost."

"So we looked around and we located a few Kittani biowizards whom were looking to leave the service of a highlord discreetly. Then we asked the in mates what they wanted. We have to send out a minimum amount of soldiers to the TGE to make our numbers sufficient, but we can fake the deaths of more than a few. By improving our processes with the input of our newly staffed biowizards, our survival rates improved and we managed to stream line the conversion process. The combining of biowizard techniques with our bio engineering augmentation yielded a far sturdier and powerful being that doesn't show up unless under close medical scrutiny."

"Listen, the inmates are aware and approve of what is going on. They were either going to die on the penal colony, go get sent to one corner of the galaxy to die for forge-knows-why or we can broker them as mercenaries. The inmates were happy to go along with it so long as _all_ of them got the new augmented process. Wherever they were to be sent to the front lines or to be brokered to a new employer, they stood a much better chance of survival."

"We work out a brokerage fee with clients and fulfill them their staffing needs. So far they have seemed very happy with the product!"

"We don't work for the slavers. The slavers that captured us ambushed a business meet of ours. Most of our associates were killed in the fight... We were forced to maintain the ship under threat of death. We were trying to staff a couple of platoons worth of heavy infantry for a UWW client whom was looking to bolster their planetary defenses!"

Mak opens his eyes slightly and looks towards MOD:
"Is this the information you were looking for?"

Rain of Death: (Bert)

The wolfen obliges Bert's requests and fulfills the tasks diligently. So far, MOD and co have departed the rain of death transport for about an hour. There are large holes left in the hull. However power is back on, there is no radiation leak. Bert surmises that the impulse engines can be brought online and he should be able to steer the ship from engineering, although he'll still need some help navigating. The wolfen does not really seem to understand the work being done and is not aware of the progress. The auto pilot controls are only on the bridge, and he has yet to inspect that area in detail since his arrival.

Dr. White · Post by **Dr. White** » Sun Nov 10, 2024 5:57 pm

JIC: 1d20: [11] = 11 , 1d100: [88] = 88
PER: 1d100: [80] = 80 vs. 78%[/quote]

Conditions:

”Fascinating.” White unintentionally mimics the dogs. Then, he’s off to see a sentient about a cyborg. As he arrives at the shuttle bay, he feels something run into his mind block, and White scowls about the bay to see if there’s anyone else. Don’t normally see too many psychics going conversion like this. But then, don’t normally see tech like this either. Could some maniac have found a way to put both together? And, more importantly, how do I get in on that action? A stray grin steals across White’s face as he briefly gets lost entertaining the possibilities, but then he realizes that the cyborg is looking decidedly hostile-like and decides it’s probably best to take cover. The good doctor briefly debates trying to establish some sort of telepathic contact with the thing, particularly in light of the damaged sensor cluster, but decides it’s not worth the risk of lowering his mind block. White purses his lips as he observes the cyborg in action, then pipes up ”Not sure how much meat is left under there. But don’t worry gang, I’ll dig it up!” White then starts concentrating, firing a series of phase blasts to (hopefully) penetrate the cyborg’s shell and damage the body inside.

Initiative: 1d20+3: [11]+3 = 14
APM: 7

Actions 1-2: Take cover! Dodges: 1d20+7: [16]+7 = 23 , 1d20+7: [2]+7 = 9
Action 3: Phase blast at cyborg ((-15 ISP)). 1d20+4: [8]+4 = 12 to strike, 3d6: [2, 6, 4] = 12 SDC or MDC.
Action 4: Phase blast at cyborg ((-15 ISP)). 1d20+4: [16]+4 = 20 to strike, 3d6: [6, 4, 2] = 12 SDC or MDC.
Action 5: Phase blast at cyborg ((-15 ISP)). 1d20+4: [14]+4 = 18 to strike, 3d6: [5, 5, 6] = 16 SDC or MDC.
Action 6: Phase blast at cyborg ((-15 ISP)). 1d20+4: [8]+4 = 12 to strike, 3d6: [1, 1, 5] = 7 SDC or MDC.
Action 7: Phase blast at cyborg ((-15 ISP)). 1d20+4: [14]+4 = 18 to strike, 3d6: [4, 1, 3] = 8 SDC or MDC.

Contingency: If White takes more than 25 SDC damage this round, he’ll sacrifice actions to dodge and move to new cover where he can resume attacking. Dodges: 1d20+7: [18]+7 = 25 , 1d20+7: [6]+7 = 13 , 1d20+7: [8]+7 = 15 , 1d20+7: [11]+7 = 18 , 1d20+7: [3]+7 = 10

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Mon Nov 11, 2024 11:53 am

JIC: 1d20: [17] = 17 , 1d100: [17] = 17
Perception: 38% (53% in darkness) / 1d100: [58] = 58 (FAIL)

Conditions: ,

Zilch, his monstrous shaggy blue form shrugging, inspects the giant bio-borg with the others. He doesn't know a thing about it. He leans on his cosmic spear-chopper-poker weapon thing, his mind wandering to more appetizing thoughts. "Wonder what this thing tastes like?" he muses as his googly eyes scans the creature's form.

When the wave of psychic energy washes over him. Zilch is entirely unfazed. His mind, shielded by his monstrous nature, is impervious to such attacks.

Dr. White wrote: ↑Sun Nov 10, 2024 5:57 pm ”Not sure how much meat is left under there. But don’t worry gang, I’ll dig it up!”

Zilch, bemused by the doctor's antics, approaches the bio-borg's enormous head. He raises his cosmic spear-chopper-poker-stabby-thing, fixing its point aimed at the creature's temple. "Hey, giant borg thing," he growls in a loud voice that echoes through the cargo bay. "Stop all that or I'll scoop out that brain of yours and devour it. Understand?"

"I'm rather attached to that lot. They bake me cookies and everything. So you can answer some questions or get eaten, up to you."

Initiative: 1d20+5: [13]+5 = 18
APM: 8

Action 1: Approach giant head, point cosmo-spear thing at temple.
Action 2: Threaten the thing. If no response, Action 3 and onwards.
Action 3: *Cosmic Stabber Strike 1d20+9: [13]+9 = 22 , Damage 1d4*10+6d6+6: [4]*10+[5, 2, 6, 1, 4, 6]+6 = 70
Action 4: Cosmic Stabber Strike 1d20+9: [1]+9 = 10 , Damage 1d4*10+6d6+6: [1]*10+[1, 1, 6, 4, 5, 2]+6 = 35
Action 5: Cosmic Stabber Strike 1d20+9: [8]+9 = 17 , Damage 1d4*10+6d6+6: [3]*10+[1, 4, 3, 4, 5, 6]+6 = 59
Action 6: Cosmic Stabber Strike 1d20+9: [11]+9 = 20 , Damage 1d4*10+6d6+6: [2]*10+[2, 1, 3, 1, 5, 1]+6 = 39
Action 7: Cosmic Stabber Strike 1d20+9: [4]+9 = 13 , Damage 1d4*10+6d6+6: [2]*10+[3, 1, 6, 6, 1, 4]+6 = 47
Action 8: Cosmic Stabber Strike 1d20+9: [7]+9 = 16 , Damage 1d4*10+6d6+6: [3]*10+[4, 3, 5, 1, 1, 1]+6 = 51

* Are strikes needed if the thing cannot defend itself from physical harm?

Parries (+13 included): 1d20+13: [3]+13 = 16 , 1d20+13, 1d20+13: [7]+13 = 20 , 1d20+13: [8]+13 = 21 , 1d20+13: [2]+13 = 15 , 1d20+13: [15]+13 = 28 , 1d20+13: [8]+13 = 21 , 1d20+13: [9]+13 = 22 ,

Auto Dodge (+7): 1d20+7: [20]+7 = 27 , 1d20+7: [11]+7 = 18 , 1d20+7: [7]+7 = 14 , 1d20+7: [6]+7 = 13 , 1d20+7: [16]+7 = 23 , 1d20+7: [6]+7 = 13 , 1d20+7: [15]+7 = 22

The Machine · Post by **The Machine** » Tue Nov 12, 2024 7:45 pm

Perception: 1d100: [68] = 68 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [10] = 10 ; 1d100: [53] = 53
Conditions: None

Spaceship Mechanics 1d100: [17] = 17 /60% Success (Finish basic repairs)
Navigation: Space 1d100: [8] = 8 /53% Success (To plot a course back to the Roid.)
Pilot: Spacecraft General 1d100: [67] = 67 /78% Success (To get the Reign of Death moving)

Bert is in a zone, when the thought occurs to him. "Do you know how to navigate in space or fly a spaceship?" Bert asks the Wulfen, as he moves towards the bridge. Might as well see what I'm working with up here. Bert thinks. "I need to make a run up to the bridge, I haven't even seen what it looks like since I boarded." Bert says as he walks. "Also do you have a name, while hey you seems sufficient, I figure you'd rather me call you by name?" Bert asks.

Post by **MOD** » Sun Nov 17, 2024 7:30 pm

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [22*] = 1
JiC 1d20: [7] = 7 / 1d100: [21] = 21

Stuff
Energy form: RAF Roundel

Butcher's Bill
-35 P.P.E.

As Maks tells his story of private jails, profit maximization, and betrayl MOD turns a shade paler. Eir blue body and red circle both fade to dull tones, still bright, but lacking the pop of eir normal self. Fergie's whole family is trash, neh? No wonder he's a fuxing turd. Ey doesn't doubt that Maks is telling the truth, because he's admitting to some pretty heinous business.

Stoopid Matter Fuxor wrote:"Is this the information you were looking for?"

"No," MOD says candidly. "I didn't expect you to be JUST AS BAD AS THE FUXING SLAVERS WE RESCUED YOU FROM." As ey raises eir voice, ey triples eir wattage (-30 P.P.E.). Ey dims back to where ey when ey floated into the brig. "You gave those prisoners a choice between a fuxing death sentence and a fuxing death sentence, you vacuous fuxing mass. I should fuxing space the two of you and wipe my fuxing hands clean of your grubby fuxing business."

Ey turns around to fly away saying, "But I won't, because you're Fergie's kin."

Once out of the brig ey looks over to Vinny. "It would be so fuxing gratifying to kill The Baron's whole clan in front of him. Those fuxors would deserve it. Keep them locked up, I still don't trust them. Especially because I believe their story."

And with that, ey flies to check on the rest of the crew in the shuttle bay. Assuming the borg is dead, MOD studies the corpse, eir red and white circles rolling up and down. Fuxing hells. We've seen some pretty depraved stuff as a crew, but this is a special flavor of mean. Ey then glances at the other Reavers. "It put up much of a fight?"

"Did you manage to learn anything about it or the people it worked for? Like where their base might be?" Once ey is updated on that, ey heads back to the brig so the Reavers can pick up Bert and what remains of the shuttle.

Ashrak · Post by **Ashrak** » Mon Nov 18, 2024 6:56 pm

White wrote:"Now, you said it was an 'oracle' cyborg? Fascinating. Izzat some sort of species designation, or just a very confident precog? Seems a little incongruous with the whole cyborg motif. Ooo, I can't wait to get in there!"

As Ashrak floats down to the bay he giddily replies. "Hehehe, yes, commonly called a Brain. Very nefarious, powerful psionic. Hopefully dead, or mostly." Ashrak replies as he arrives in the bay. What beautiful metal Ashrak considers as he approaches the brain. Ashrak welcomes Zilch and White as they enter. "This is the Oracle! Beautiful, no!?" Ashrak says as he feels the attempted pierce on his mind and frowns. "And apparently, still alive." Ashrak coos

Zilch wrote:"Stop all that or I'll scoop out that brain of yours and devour it. Understand?"

Ashrak waves a single tentacle. "Nay, nay. Just kill it." Ashrak says with a malicious venom dripping from his lips as readies himself for another assault from the Oracle. Ashrak pulls out his Phase Beamer and simply starts shooting at the center of the Oracle's shell. If at any point Zilch or White open the shell, Ashrak will instead reach out and try to choke it to unconsciousness with Death Grip.

Combat:
Initiative: 1d20+10: [5]+10 = 15
Parry [with Psi-Sword]: 1d20+5: [1]+5 = 6 | 1d20+5: [3]+5 = 8 | 1d20+5: [19]+5 = 24 | 1d20+5: [5]+5 = 10 | 1d20+5: [2]+5 = 7 | 1d20+5: [9]+5 = 14 | 1d20+5: [4]+5 = 9

A1: Dedicated to Dodge. 1d20+7: [19]+7 = 26
A2: Attack with Phase Beamer. Strike: 1d20+3: [18]+3 = 21 . DMG: 4d6: [3, 4, 6, 1] = 14 MDC straight to MDC, bypasses armor.
A3: Attack with Phase Beamer. Strike: 1d20+3: [7]+3 = 10 . DMG: 4d6: [3, 3, 6, 5] = 17 MDC straight to MDC, bypasses armor.
A4: Attack with Phase Beamer. Strike: 1d20+3: [16]+3 = 19 . DMG: 4d6: [2, 4, 1, 6] = 13 MDC straight to MDC, bypasses armor.
A5: Attack with Phase Beamer. Strike: 1d20+3: [11]+3 = 14 . DMG: 4d6: [5, 1, 4, 1] = 11 MDC straight to MDC, bypasses armor.
A6: Attack with Phase Beamer. Strike: 1d20+3: [6]+3 = 9 . DMG: 4d6: [6, 5, 3, 2] = 16 MDC straight to MDC, bypasses armor.
A7: Attack with Phase Beamer. Strike: 1d20+3: [17]+3 = 20 . DMG: 4d6: [5, 1, 2, 2] = 10 MDC straight to MDC, bypasses armor.

Contingency:
If any any point Zilch or White are able to open the shell guarding the brain, Ashrak will instead reach out and cast

Post by **Nurse Ratchet** » Mon Nov 25, 2024 9:17 pm

Hangar:

The Oracle lays lifeless on the floor, but suddenly, Ashrak and Dr. White's sixth sense both kick off.

OOC Comments

Dr. White dives out of the way into some cover behind the parked Roach shuttle, while Ashrak does the same to another part of the docking bay. Meanwhile, Zilch stands next to the borg, not so gently nudging the temple housing of its organic matter. Physical bolts of force emanate from the head area of the Borg targeting Dr. White, but the bolt misses.

Zilch tries to talk some sense to the borg, but is met with silence. Suddenly, Zilch floats off the air and is flung to the far side of the room (-10MD). Phase beams from both Dr. White and Ashrak ring true to the target. Those blasts both hit their targets true.

Ashrak and Dr. White both hear what sounds like a metalic scream. Zilch gets up and lunges at the borg. Swinging at the borg, his trident bounces off the armor as it hits a hidden field. The Oracle parries the blow with a forcefield, just in time.

Dr. White and Ashrak continue to pelt the Oracle with their phase weapons, but they encounter the forcefield all the same. The protection however is waning quickly. An invisible grappling pincer seizes at Zilch, but this time he dodges just in time.

Wailing away at the cyborg, a decent hit from Zilch destroys the remainder of the forcefield and Dr. White and Ashrak were able to shoot phase beams that penetrated the Oracle's armor. Ashrak can feel that the Oracle tried to parry with its forcefields again, but this time it was too late.

The 4th phase beam effectively cooked the Oracle's brain. But the trio doesn't know that. Ashrak and Dr. White keep firing away. Zilch continues to batter about the Oracle's giant head continuously. By the fourth blow, the already compromised armor caves to the cookie monster's might. Zilch's last blow finds the containment chamber and the trident takes a large piece of armor plating with it as Zilch winds up for another blow.

The oracle body sits quietly. It is not making any noise. The power plant is still in tact.

Just then MOD shows up into the shuttle bay. Steeped in a cold fury, ey arrive at the end of the fight. Ashrak and Dr. White are behind cover, Zilch looks more perturbed than injured and the Oracle Borg is very very still.

On the Rain of Death transport, Bert gets a name for the Borg.

"My name is Kantos. I will escort you to the bridge if you feel like it."

Bert goes up to the cockpit area and starts rummaging through the systems. He locates the navigational computer and manages to find a few co-ordinates that have been repeatedly logged into the system. One of them is bookmarked as "Homebase". That seems to be a There are three other coordinate points that the ship has repeatedly frequented to as well. One of them is the sixth planet in Theora. Another is Geo, although it does not show where the ship would have landed. Much of the meta data on the repeated co-ordinates inputted are more than three weeks old.

WHAT ARE YOU INTENTIONS

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Tue Nov 26, 2024 2:04 pm

JIC: 1d20: [8] = 8 , 1d100: [78] = 78
Perception: 38% (53% in darkness) / 1d100: [80] = 80 (FAIL)

Conditions: ,

With the battle ended, Zilch ponders his next move.

"Well, a monster ought to keep his promises," he says ominously. He points at accusing finger at the dead bio-borg, "I warned you, and now you shall receive what I promised. That will teach you."

Unless someone asks him to do some boring thing, Zilch wastes no time. He uses his cosmicly-sharp weapon to saw open the bio-borg's head, and proceeds to scoop out a generous portion of its brain matter. This gooey, pulsating mass will be perfect for a truly monstrous meal!

Now let us pause a moment and take this in. There's a pungent, almost otherworldly odor that fills the air as Zilch delves into the task of butchering the bio-borg. The smell of burnt circuitry mingled with the raw, organic scent of the creature's brain matter, creates a truly nauseating aroma. Zilch, however, seems oblivious to the stench. To him, it is regular monster business. Plus, there's the promise of a delicious meal to be had!

He hacks and hews at the creature's skull, his monstrous strength making short work of the once-mighty giant borg thing's head. With each stroke of his cosmic cleaver, a shower of gore and brain spatters about the cargo bay. Upon the floor, likely about MOD's form, there's a gruesome mosaic of gore coating the floor.

Zilch, his face smeared with the creature's ichor, merely laughs with delight.

"Nothing like the smell of fresh brain matter in the morning," he declares cheerfully.

He shovels generous portions of borg-brain into a metal cargo-bay bucket and strides past MOD on his way out. The gooey, pulsating mass of brains, slosh sickeningly with each step Zilch takes.

As he passes MOD, he cannot resist a question. "Hey you want a brain smoothie?" he chuckles, and his voice drips with satisfaction. "Or I can scramble it up with eggs. Do you like them runny or hard?"

Whistling a cheerful tune, Zilch lugs his prize to the kitchens. He announces his presence by clanging the Bucket-O-Brains on the workbench.

"Hey Eric," he greets the Flan Machine, "I've got something special for you. Think you can use this to help me whip up something delicious? It's psi-infused protein. Very healthy!"

He holds up the bucket, and a wicked grin spreads across his face. His teeth, sharp and numerous, gleam in the bright kitchen lights as he waves the grotesque brain-bucket about.

When it comes time for the Reavers to enjoy a meal together, Zilch gets to work.

Cooking 85%: 1d100: [44] = 44 (Big Success!!)

And so the monster gets to work, using Eric to help render certain ingredients from the raw brain matter, and using whatever other supplies are available in the kitchens. Zilch approaches the task with a mixture of excitement and hunger. Sure he nibbles a bit here and there, but he still gets on with the task of preparing a Reaver Banquet. If Zilch gets to choose, he works towards something like this....

He carefully cracks open a few dozen eggs, and devours the shattered shells with a satisfying crunch. The golden yolks gleamed in contrast to the grotesque brain matter he had harvested. With a practiced hand, he whisks the eggs together, incorporating the brain matter into the mixture. The result is a viscous, otherworldly batter, pulsing with psychic energy.

He pours the mixture into a sizzling pan, and the brain matter sizzles and pops as it makes contact with the hot surface. The aroma that fills the kitchen was both enticing and repulsive, depending on how monstrous an individual you might be. As the fritata cooks, Zilch cannot resist taking a small taste.

When he finishes the fritata, which is hopefully a yummolicious masterpiece, he serves it in the dining hall sizzling and steaming.

"Dinner's Ready! Get it while it's hot!", he announces over comms.

Ashrak · Post by **Ashrak** » Tue Nov 26, 2024 10:23 pm

Perception: 1d100: [84] = 84 /45% (+20 regarding explosives)
JiC: 1d100: [60] = 60 / 1d20: [17] = 17

Conditions: Natural HF: 13 | Exceptional vision [2 miles] | Naturally floating [Max 30 MPH] | | | | Current Numbers: I.S.P.: 160/184 |Sixth Sense [Inactive, 2ISP] | Forcefield: 88/110 | Electrokinesis [Manipulate Electrical Devices | 65ft | 4ISP | 7m:30s] | Telemechanics [22mins | Understand Tech 88%] | Telepathy [Read Surface Thoughts, 12 mins]

Skills:

Post:

Ashrak doesn't stop firing his phase beamer until he's sure the Oracle's brain has been thoroughly cooked, laughing maniacally with each bolt. Finally Ashrak notices that the shell sits eerily quiet and perks over the shell. "Mm, I think it's dead now. I wonder if it's edible." Ashrak muses through small, razorlike teeth. Ashrak turns to MOD with a disgusting grin. "It's dead and we're going to cook it!" Ashrak says gleefully as Zilch begins to saw away at the shell. Ashrak floats forward. "Hey, hey, be careful! I have plans for that beautiful metal shell of the brain. I wonder if that other human, what was his name, Bert? Yesss, I imagine he might want to take a peek at the power source. Try not to destroy it, Beautiful Blue." Ashrak coos towards Zilch. I wonder if I can convince that mechanic to help me make some unique Rithian armor using this shell. Ashrak considers.

As Zilch scoops up the brain matter, Ashrak looks on with horrifying interest. "Ooh, a Brain smoother sounds delicious. Or some runnny scrambled eggs. The more gooey, the better." Ashrak suggests with enough seriousness to make any normal bipedal humanoid that eats retch. Ashrak turns to MOD. "How went the interrogation? Want me to flay their minds? I'm in the mood to flay some minds." Ashrak offers matter of factly to MOD.

~Later~
When dinner time rolls around, Ashrak will literally slurp up the viscous brain batter turned scrambled eggs. "My, my, Beautiful Blue, you never cease to impress." Ashrak says between slurps.

Post by **MOD** » Sun Dec 01, 2024 2:01 am

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [66] = 0
JiC 1d20: [10] = 10 / 1d100: [43] = 43

Stuff
Energy form: RAF Roundel

Butcher's Bill
- 35 P.P.E.

There are rare moments when MOD wonders if ey is missing out on certain experiences by being a non-corporeal being. Dear reader, this is not one of those moments. Ey floats into the cargo bay splattered with blood and gray matter. Fuxing hells... ey mutters. I thought robots weren't supposed to be organic. How many different types of fluids do these things have them?

Ey keeps around the edge of the bay, eir red circle trained on the dead borg not sure if it is actually dead, as ey approaches the other Reavers. This is so gross. Do I even need to be in here?

Ashrak wrote: ↑Tue Nov 26, 2024 10:23 pm"It's dead and we're going to cook it!"

"I'm good," MOD replies blandly. "In fact I'm really appreciating that I don't have to, how you corporeals say, 'eat'. Really thankful for that right now."

Zilch wrote: ↑Tue Nov 26, 2024 2:04 pm"Hey you want a brain smoothie? Or I can scramble it up with eggs. Do you like them runny or hard?"

"Hard," MOD says in an instant. "I mean, hard pass on anything involving food. You do you boo."

Ashrak wrote: ↑Tue Nov 26, 2024 10:23 pm"Ooh, a Brain smoother sounds delicious. Or some runnny scrambled eggs. The more gooey, the better."

But then a moment of curiosity strikes the phantom. "Can I watch?" Ewwww! I shouldn't! "I don't really understand the whole 'food' thing." Do I want to? "Like what's the difference between runny and hard eggs? Does the texture make it better?" Shudder. Texture.

Ashrak wrote: ↑Tue Nov 26, 2024 10:23 pm"How went the interrogation? Want me to flay their minds? I'm in the mood to flay some minds."

"I got everything we need out of them," MOD replies, "and I barely had to hurt one of them!" Ey is sorta proud of that last part. "They're just as much trash as The Baron, and have no value to us. We'll turn them for a bounty or use them as shields in our next fight, whichever comes first."

Dr. White · Post by **Dr. White** » Wed Dec 04, 2024 2:35 pm

JIC: 1d20: [16] = 16 , 1d100: [48] = 48
PER: 1d100: [50] = 50 vs. 78%

Conditions:

With a mix of disgust and fascination (and pursed, almost longing lips) White watches as Zilch goes to town on the downed cyborg’s brain matter. ”Fascinating.” He whispers- whether at the tech or the organism or the gluttony, it’s impossible to say. Maybe all of the above. He seems almost reverent for a moment, then he steps forward with uncharacteristic timidity to touch the chassis and glean what he can from it telemechanically. At the offering of brain matter White almost shakes his head then pauses, and shrugs. ”Well why not. It’s cooked so there’s probably not anything communicable. Not into the fifth through seventh dimensions, anyway.” With a hapless shrug, White snags a proffered morsel (ideally a small one) and scarfs it down with a quizzical look on his face and one raised eyebrow. If after swallowing he does not immediately vomit he will belch and say ”Delicious.” but will decline any second helpings unless it was actually true. If there’s anything notable about the tech left behind that he can sense via telemechanics White will report it. His only other comment is to Ashrak, with an enthusiastic ”Ooooo, mind flaying! Can I help? Or at least watch? I’m pretty good at interrogations too, so long as we kill them afterwards.” He adds hopefully.

The Machine · Post by **The Machine** » Tue Dec 10, 2024 1:19 pm

Perception: 1d100: [94] = 94 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [12] = 12 ; 1d100: [73] = 73
Conditions: None

"Kantos, Got it. Let's get this junker moving. I'm tired of hanging out in empty space and would like to get back to my now likely cold dinner." Bert says as he notes that the navigational equipment has saved locations. I'll copy everything later, not very useful now. Bert thinks as he gets back to work.

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Tue Dec 10, 2024 4:31 pm

((Rolls carried))

Dr. White wrote: ↑Wed Dec 04, 2024 2:35 pm At the offering of brain matter White almost shakes his head then pauses, and shrugs. ”Well why not. It’s cooked so there’s probably not anything communicable. Not into the fifth through seventh dimensions, anyway.” With a hapless shrug, White snags a proffered morsel (ideally a small one) and scarfs it down with a quizzical look on his face and one raised eyebrow. If after swallowing he does not immediately vomit he will belch and say ”Delicious.” but will decline any second helpings unless it was actually true.

Zilch, oblivious to the doctor's reservations, grins. "I'm sure there's nothing wrong about it," he reassures, "If you can't devour the brains of your enemies in this universe then it's not a universe you want to be a part of, if you ask me."

With a hearty laugh, he shoves a generous portion of the fritata onto the doctor's plate. "Try it, you'll love it," he insists. "I've eaten plenty of raw brain matter in my time. Never had a problem. I even gobbled up a few handfuls of this stuff before I cooked it, and it was perfectly fine. Nothing at all to worry about! Just a little tangy, and could have used some salt. And I've fixed all that when cooking it up with eggs!"

Suddenly, the monster feels a rumble begin from deep within his monstrous frame. A silent battle rages within him, a conflict between his desire to relieve himself and his need to not undermine the point he is trying to make. He clenches his monstrous sphincter, and his face contorts into a mask of concentration. No, no farting now. They'll think it's a sideaffect! I ... ugh ... can't have them discouraged. They'll ... woah, that was close ... start eating weird things. Like vegetables!

A bead of sweat trickles down his forehead as he fights to suppress the impending eruption. Fortunately, no one can see the sweat as Zilch has a layer of shaggy blue fur to mask it.

"Mmmm good," he manages to say, his voice strained, as he takes another spoonful. "It's really quite delicious. Yum it up!"

Post by **Nurse Ratchet** » Sun Dec 15, 2024 11:29 pm

Zilch, Ashrak, Dr. White, MOD in the hangar bay.

Zilch's antics lead to a rancid stench lingering in the hangar bay. The remaining armor of the Oracle is still powered on, despite the extraction of the occupying grey/pink matter.

Zilch wrote: "Hey Eric," he greets the Flan Machine, "I've got something special for you. Think you can use this to help me whip up something delicious? It's psi-infused protein. Very healthy!"

Eric's indicator lights flash on and off rapidly. A long sigh emanates from its speakers.

"Mr. Zilch, the problem is that by scoopying out the brain into bits, you've lost its essential shape. Normally, there are a few Aryan recipes of goat brain I could modify. I think the best course of action is to turn this into a Masala based curry. We can cook the brain on the side by boiling it with cloves, cardamon, turmeric, salt and maybe some cloves. This is boiled for about 10 minutes or so, given the volume of goo you have, until the brains go from grey/pink to white. Then we fry this stuff in a pan, piecemeal, no more than 6-8 ounces at a time, evenly for about 3-5 minutes, or whenever the outside starts to look take on some browning.

Then we prepare the masala with some clarified butter, cinnamon (small stick), caradamon (2 pods), cloves, fennel seed if we have any, ginger and garlic, cumin, coriander, chilli powder and a bunch of crushed tomatoes. Most of this is in the larder. If you can find any limes or lemons, a few drops will go a long way."

As Zilch starts delving into a fritata, Eric tries to course correct and says:

"Maybe try and throw in the spices like I said, it will taste less brainy and the rest of the group will like it more."

(Inspired by these: and https://nowyourecooking.ca/recipe/spicy ... -frittata/)

Ashrak and MOD leave to discuss interrogation matters, as Dr. White tries to join in. The conversation concludes shortly, as food is ready.

In the mean time, Grizzelblak has charted a course to go back to the Rain of Death transport some time ago, and they are nearing the transport by the time the meal has finished.

Upon finishing the meal, Zilch gets rather tired. He hasn't felt this drowsy from overeating in eons. The others head back to the bridge while Zilch feels incredibly drowsy and dozes off into a nap.

Bert in the Rain of Death transport.

Bert and Kantos succeed in getting the transport powered up. Just as they were ready to move, Bert can hear Grizzelblak announce her arrival over the radio. The moth ship is about 100 clicks out.

Dr. White · Post by **Dr. White** » Thu Dec 19, 2024 11:16 am

JIC: 1d20: [1] = 1 , 1d100: [67] = 67
PER: 1d100: [90] = 90 vs. 78%

”Mmmmm! I love a good curry!” White says to Zilch as the master chef gets to his work. If he registers the smell, he pays it no mind. Fascinating. I wonder how long that brain has been cooped up in that thing. Years if not centuries by the smell of it. White will pick at his meal and eat it slowly, without Zilch’s gusto. But he will finish his plate (eventually); while the dinner is being prepped he will continue to examine the Oracle’s tech with telemechanics while he can. If there’s anything promising to be learned there White will drag it to his lab- otherwise he will sniff disdainfully and mutter ”What a waste…” Unless things in the medbay clamor for his attention again (or he’s ordered elsewhere), White will assume his station on the bridge once the ship gets close to the transport.

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Fri Dec 20, 2024 5:18 pm

JIC: 1d20: [16] = 16 , 1d100: [98] = 98
Perception: 38% (53% in darkness) / 1d100: [55] = 55 (FAIL)

Conditions: ,

Zilch tucks into the enormous brain curry feast before him. Each bite, more grotesque than the last, is his to devour! With each bite, his eyes glaze over a little more, and his mind seems to slowly slip into a blissful state. Is this what a food coma feels like?

As the world around him fades away, it is replaced by a vision of endless food, a culinary utopia where every dish is more delicious than the last.

He munches and slurps, oblivious to the crew around him. Zilch may be a fearsome creature, but like so many of us, he's also a simple beast, driven by hunger.

A strange sensation washes over him, a sense of lethargy and contentment. "I feel a little odd," he says out loud to no one in particular. "Could it be the brain matter? Surely not. I’ve eaten plenty of strange things over the centuries, humans, klied, machine people, cosmic knights, smurfs, grenades... I even ate a funny elderly bearded fellow with a red hat. He was a holly jolly treat.

Nurse Ratchet wrote: ↑Sun Dec 15, 2024 11:29 pm Upon finishing the meal, Zilch gets rather tired. He hasn't felt this drowsy from overeating in eons.

Before he can ponder the matter further, his eyelids grow heavy. He yawns. "I'm taking a nap," and he adds a warning, "If you wake me, I'll probably eat you."

Nurse Ratchet wrote: ↑Sun Dec 15, 2024 11:29 pm The others head back to the bridge while Zilch feels incredibly drowsy and dozes off into a nap.

His head lolls to the side, and he drifts off. The feast of weird psionic brain matter paves the way to the peace of slumber, and Zilch, the monstrous devourer, is at rest.

The Machine · Post by **The Machine** » Fri Dec 20, 2024 5:36 pm

Perception: 1d100: [45] = 45 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [13] = 13 ; 1d100: [61] = 61
Conditions: None

Navigation: Space 1d100: [29] = 29 /53% Success (To move the busted transport in the general right direction.)
Pilot: Spacecraft General 1d100: [59] = 59 /78% Success (To pilot the busted transport.)
Radio: Basic 1d100: [67] = 67 /83% Success (To radio the madness that is the rest of Void Reavers)
Computer Operation 1d100: [34] = 34 /73% Success (To maintain systems from engineering.)
Sensory Equipment 1d100: [58] = 58 /68% Success (To know what the electronic stuff is telling me.)

When Bert feels the engines hum to life, he sighs. "Damn I'm good! Kantos find somewhere to strap in, this is gonna be pretty unorthodox." Bert radios to his erstwhile traveling companion. Bert's gloved hands work the controls in engineering, coaxing some juice to the engines, while warily eying the sensors for fluctuations and warnings. "Yes, Yes, I know there is critical structural damage, I caused it... don't you think I would know that... dumb ship." Bert grumbles as he queries the systems for a variety of information.

If/When Bert notices Grizziblak approaching Bert will flip on the radio once more. "Ship is tentatively operational. Gonna move it to the rock for later decisions as to what to do with it. found some interesting navigational data that may be useful, but was more worried about not dying in the void of space. Made a friend, all he wants is a ride back to Geo for helping me." Bert radios.

Bert continues to maneuver the crippled spacecraft, as he has done more than once in his relatively short pirate career. "This is the forth busted ass ship I've had to fly somewhere, am I just cursed?" Bert says to himself, sighing and shaking his head. Maybe I'll have some time to build my drone, would make some things easier. Bert thinks as he continues to monitor the situation.

Ashrak · Post by **Ashrak** » Sun Dec 22, 2024 10:15 pm

MOD wrote:"I don't really understand the whole 'food' thing."

Ashrak stops in his hovering tracks as he looks at the floating ball of energy in disbelief. "Absolutely! I could not even imagine not eating. There are so many good foods out there. My personal favorite Rithian delicacy is Daghtuj! A wonderful combination of meats of various native animals to our homeworld. I haven't had it in years." Ashrak begins a random tirade of disclosing his favorite rithian courses. Only stopping when MOD mentions the two prisoners

Dr White wrote:
MOD wrote:"They're just as much trash as The Baron, and have no value to us. We'll turn them for a bounty or use them as shields in our next fight, whichever comes first."
Ooooo, mind flaying! Can I help? Or at least watch? I’m pretty good at interrogations too, so long as we kill them afterwards.”

Ashrak almost pouts. "Did they not say they were worth a good ransom? Was that a lie as well? I may have to rend some of their form for lying to us. Leave them alive for a bounty, but in pain for a lesson." Ashrak purrs before turning to the Promethean. "Of course my pale bipedal friend! If their bounty is dead or alive, I don't see why we can't have some fun!" Ashrak coos to Dr White.

When Zilch starts cooking the slop that was the brain of the Oracle, Ashrak grins. I cannot imagine a more fitting end for a giant floating brain of evil machinations. No, no. Can't have any contenders escape. Ashrak considers cruelly. When Zilch serves up the cooked brain Ashrak practically squeals. "Oh my this is almost like Gagh, one of the more common and delicious foods of Rithian culture!" Ashrak says as he eagerly slurps up his share.

After dinner, Ashrak will accompany Dr White to examine the shell of the Oracle. "Mmm, do tell me if any of that is worth while tech, I am thinking of asking the other human bipedal.. Bert, yes, Bert. I am thinking of asking him to help fashion me some actual armor that benefits my illustrious form." Ashrak says with zero humility. I am actually quite handsome compared to most Rithe. My sister would terrify these poor saps. Ashrak considers with a grin.

"Ship is tentatively operational. Gonna move it to the rock for later decisions as to what to do with it. found some interesting navigational data that may be useful, but was more worried about not dying in the void of space. Made a friend, all he wants is a ride back to Geo for helping me."

Ashrak, like a ADHD child, looks away from the Oracle's shell at the radio call. "Oh! There he is! A friend he says! I like making... friends" Ashrak coos as he triggers his radio. "I'm so pleased you made a friend! We made a friend and also cooked up a lovely dinner, courtesy of Beautiful Blue. We saved you some!" Ashrak purrs over the radio to Bert.

Post by **MOD** » Mon Dec 23, 2024 10:38 pm

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [68] = 0
JiC 1d20: [7] = 7 / 1d100: [20] = 20

Stuff
Energy form: RAF roundel
Navigation: space (97%) 1d100<97: [96*] = 1 - Guide Grizzelblak to Reaver's Roid

MOD watches Eric the food processor create an oracle brain curry with equal parts elation and disgust. Despite lacking certain senses inherent in corporeals - taste, touch, and smell - the whole experience is palpable. It is like watching a horror movie, ey can't look away. Ey sees the steam rise, spice particles dancing in the hot air, the swirl of fat and protein create a viscous liquid that the brains start to simmer in. Oil collects in pools on top of the broth.

I can't taste it, but I feel like I can taste it. Is that a good thing? It looks... Ey is not a discerning epicurean and therefore can't determine if the food looks like it tastes good or is well cooked. And yet the whole thing is alluring to M in a non-FOMO way. ... fascinating. If I had taste buds (perish the thought), would I want to eat this?

In his own way, Ashrak answers the larger rhetorical question.

Ashrak wrote: ↑Sun Dec 22, 2024 10:15 pm"Absolutely! I could not even imagine not eating. There are so many good foods out there. My personal favorite Rithian delicacy is Daghtuj! A wonderful combination of meats of various native animals to our homeworld. I haven't had it in years."

"Fascinating," M replies. "So your favorite food is a bunch of dead animals tossed together. If I didn't know you already, I'd say you like to kill things, neh?"

Then the conversation turns to the two prisoners:

Dr. White wrote: ↑Wed Dec 04, 2024 2:35 pm"Ooooo, mind flaying! Can I help? Or at least watch? I’m pretty good at interrogations too, so long as we kill them afterwards."

Ashrak wrote: ↑Sun Dec 22, 2024 10:15 pm"Did they not say they were worth a good ransom? Was that a lie as well? I may have to rend some of their form for lying to us. Leave them alive for a bounty, but in pain for a lesson."

MOD contemplates this for a moment, and isn't repulsed by the suggestion. Maybe it's because they're a bunch of slavers, or the fact that they're The Baron's kin, or that they're just as insufferable as The Baron. Let's see what kind of price we can get for them alive first." M says. "If it's not much more than dead, I'll let you two have fun."

While the corporeals dig into their meal, M floats back to the bridge and monitors as Grizzelblak heads back to the shuttle.

The Machine wrote: ↑Fri Dec 20, 2024 5:36 pm"hip is tentatively operational. Gonna move it to the rock for later decisions as to what to do with it. found some interesting navigational data that may be useful, but was more worried about not dying in the void of space. Made a friend, all he wants is a ride back to Geo for helping me."

"Rodger dodger, Bert," MOD adds, when ey puts emself between Ash and the radio. "Glad to hear you are alive. Let's head back the rock first to regroup, then we can discuss shuttling people back to Geo."

To Grizz: "We have a nifty asteroid we're using as a home base. You can dock there, rest and recharge before we head off on our next misadventure, sound good?"

If so, MOD punches in the coordinates for the Reaver's Roid, and they fly back alongside Bert in the Rain of Death shuttle.

Post by **Nurse Ratchet** » Thu Dec 26, 2024 11:29 pm

Rain of Death Transport:

Bert and Kantos are strapped into Engineering, as the controls in the cockpit have been adapted and optimized for machine people's morphing capabilities. The ship stirs to life slowly, but as the course is laid in, the ship accelerates steadily to mach 10. The journey looks to be around 4 hours or so.

A serene quiet descends again upon the ship. Beyond the background noise of machinery, nothing stirs. Kantos finds a comfortable spot to sit and notes to Bert that he will suspend much of his external function for more expedient repair.

Bert now finds he has ample opportunity to both gather parts and conceptualize the design for his drone helper. (OOC: Go ahead and use this space here)

Parts list recovered:

Two small repair drones

One repair drone that has been sufficiently battered by energy blasts. The only thing recoverable are a few appendages and the power unit.

6 energy pistols that are kreeghor in design (EPR-5s) with short eclips
1 EPR-8 with a long eclip
Three CAF jumpsuitsDr
Two spacer suits
Two hard spacer suits
Around 20k in TW capable quality gems, including multiple green emeralds that can serve as the basis for PPE batteries (RUE P.129 or so)
(Bert can solve the problem of buying 20ks worth of gems from the TW section, only requirement is he gets some green emeralds)

On board Grizzelblak:

Just as the figurative 'dinner' festivities collude, Grizzelblak can be heard over the canteen loudspeaker:

"Paging Dr. White, you have a patient that is waking up. It's the large Seljuk. He seems to be stirring..."

As MOD speaks about exchanging the hostages for money, Ashrak suddenly recalls a black market facility for posting and reading up on 'lost & found persons in space'. It will take some gingerly negotiations, as he has not begun to establish roots in the local system yet. Still, he should be able to log onto the ship's comms computers and make some arrangements.

Meanwhile, Zilch is back in his room. He is fast asleep. Dreaming fitfully of feasts galore, followed by hallucinations of what seems to be Grizzelblak in her psionic form, observing him quietly from afar. He doesn't know what is going on, but he can feel his mind and body simultaneously anticipating and resisting some kind of change. He is not sure what is going on. (Please roll to save vs non lethal poison, then 3 d100s)

As MOD speaks to Grizzelblak, she replies:

"Captain MOD, I've been to the asteriod already and I know the way. We can be back in two hours, or sooner if you need me to step on it."

As Grizzelblak readies to magically transport herself back to the outer rims of the system, MOD suddenly recalls that the Hartigal combine might be interested in the exchange of CAF personnel. A good heads up call would only be the courteous thing to do.

WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS!

Zilch · Post by **Zilch** » Fri Dec 27, 2024 5:39 pm

JIC: 1d20: [5] = 5 , 1d100: [95] = 95
Perception: 38% (53% in darkness) / 1d100: [20] = 20 (SUCCESS)

Conditions: ,

Zilch has a rather strange dream. Is it a memory, or a byproduct of overspiced psionic brain curry?

Nonetheless, our monster's vision is both vivid, and in rhyme. He repeats the verses out loud for all to hear, if indeed any crew members are foolhardy enough to poke about Zilch while he slumbers.

Saving throws vs non-lethal poison:
1d20+6: [3]+6 = 9

Mysterious rolls:
1d100: [18] = 18
1d100: [89] = 89
1d100: [56] = 56