The Spire

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [49] = 49 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [3] = 3 ; 1d100: [34] = 34
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive),

360° scanning capability, +3 Initiative, +2 to Parry, +2 to Dodge, +5 to Roll w/, allows user to dodge all attack, even those from behind and/or surprise

H.P.: 33/33
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 249/249
Current Outfit: Clothes (Black T-Shirt, Worn Beige Cargo Pants, Raggedy Gray Sweater, Arm wraps, Combat Boots), Red Scarf, Weapon Harness, ratty overcoat.
Weapons & Armor
Armor: NE-BA-26 Special Body Armor 60/90
Integrated Force Field: 75/75
Weapons: HI-80 Combat Laser Rifle Ammo: 30/15
NE-4 Plasma Cartridge Pistol Ammo: 10/10
Slicer GR-Gun Ammo: 12/12
Phase Sword
Ripper Bayonet
A Variety of explosives.

Ghast leaves the Thraxus meeting with a foul taste in his mouth. I should eat, and grab some extra gear for the trip. Ghast thinks as he hits the teleporter and makes his way to Doodles.

"Was it just me or was he in a fouler mood than usual Doodles?" Ghast asks the colorful merchant of death as he walks through the shop. It's about this time that Ghast spies the Machine Person lurking outside. "You expecting anyone?" Ghast asks, and likely receives a negative. "Hmm..." Ghast vocalizes as he steps out of the shop and walks straight toward the Machine Person.

"You lost? Because if you're planning on robbing Doodles, it's gonna end badly." Ghast says mimicking an explosion with his hands. Ghast then promptly buts his bandaged and gloved hands into the pockets of his ratty overcoat, and stares the Machine Person down, as if by sheer force of will he can read the beings mind.

[Captain Andra Sekona]

Perception: 1d100: [38] = 38 /62%
JIC: 1d20: [16] = 16 / 1d100: [68] = 68

"So the Necrols have two potential targets - the gene splicers and the Splugorth - but Thraxus clearly thinks that the Splugorth are the more likely target. Why's that? Would there be a reason the Necrols wouldn't want to attack the gene splicers?"

"Each of them have technology the Necrols might want. Personally, I'd like to avoid having my genes spliced if I can help it. So let's go to Rynncryyl. Can't send a message out or risk being discovered. Between the two planets Thraxus mentioned, I don't think it's going to get better than a flip of a

." He brings out a cred chip from his belt pouch and

1. Face Up: Plthh
2. Face Down: Koliath

1d2: [2] = 2

. Looks like we're starting with Koliath. We try to make contact with Sir Qu’Orth, so long as its safe to do so. I'll go get the ship checked out if there are no more questions." The last part of his sentence takes a mocking tone, aimed at their benefactor.

After the briefing, the Captain heads back to the DSM to give it the pre-departure checks. "Datephus, please give me a diagnostic report." Once satisfied with the state of the ship, Captain Sekona joins Ghast for some food. When they practically bump into the machine person, the good Captain takes a step back and lets Ghast the Tracker take the lead. One hand ready to unholster his pistol, he keeps a steady stance and awaits a reason from the lurker.

[Ace Berrien, BDH]

Perception: 1d100<25: [15*] = 1
JIC: 1d20: [8] = 8 / 1d100: [26] = 26

Having finally gained a lead to Doodles' Discount Destruction Devices, Ace decided that the best course of action was to stake out the run-down gun shop and let his targets come to him. He had time to spare, after all -- scrap metal was cheap and he wasn't above crashing in his storage unit along with his gear -- so he was prepared to spend as much time in Center as it took to 'casually bump into' either Captain Sekona or his Yhabbayar sidekick.

The algorithms help those who help themselves, he thinks to himself as he settles in to (what he thought at the time would be) an inconspicuous spot for keeping his optics set on the entrance to the shop. Eventually he does spot Sekona walking out with what appears to be a very raggedy human who has seen better days. Many, MANY better days. That 'ganic looks downright homeless. Surely he's not with Sekona. But they're walking out together, so maybe the homeless look is an act of some sort?

And it's all too obvious that they see him as well.

"You lost? Because if you're planning on robbing Doodles, it's gonna end badly." Ghast says mimicking an explosion with his hands. Ghast then promptly buts his bandaged and gloved hands into the pockets of his ratty overcoat, and stares the Machine Person down, as if by sheer force of will he can read the beings mind.

When they practically bump into the machine person, the good Captain takes a step back and lets Ghast the Tracker take the lead. One hand ready to unholster his pistol, he keeps a steady stance and awaits a reason from the lurker.

In spite of himself, Ace raises an eyebrow and chuckles softly. And here I thought making contact would be much harder than this. But like they say, never look at a gift's price tag... He stands up straight, takes his hands out of his jacket's pockets, gives Ghast/Sekona two thumbs up, and flashes his best metallic smile.

Charm/Impress: 1d100<45: [33*] = 1
Invoke Trust/Intimidate: 1d100<65: [19*] = 1

"Neither one at the moment, pal," He shakes his head. "One, this is right where I needed to be... and two, robbing storefronts don't look good on a hero's resume." He lets out another chuckle and turns his attention to Sekona. "I have to say, Captain, for a crew that puts in so little effort into keeping a low profile you're impressively difficult to track down. It's taken me weeks just to filter through enough rumors and bribes to wind up outside this hole-in-the-wall of a weapons shop."

His smile lessens a bit. "Some of the rumors say you're heroes, others say you're anything but. Either way, you're busy folks so I'll make it quick. I'm looking for someone. A Lithon--sorry, a Machine Person like me. About this tall, silver skin, goes by the name of Daedalus. His last known whereabouts are linked to that Arcane Shuttle you call home. I was hoping you or a member of your crew would have data on his current whereabouts, or at the very least your ship's computer logs would have something I could go on. I've been searching for two standard years and you're the best lead I have." He shrugs. "And by 'the best lead I have,' I really mean the ONLY lead I have. So... can you help me? Please?"

He pauses a moment before rolling his eyes. "Oh, but where are my manners protocols?" He offers each of them a handshake with a grin. "The name's Barrien. Ace Barrien. I probably should have said this up front, but Daedalus is my uncle."

[Elvin]

JIC: 1d20: [20] = 20 , 1d100: [26] = 26
Perception: 28% / 1d100: [86] = 86 (FAIL)

Conditions: Cloaking

Elvin, a look of mischief in his chirpy little eyes, saunters into Doodle's Store of Destruction looking for something that might protect him from nasty laser blasts. Alas he is likely to come out empty-handed, but then notices Captain Sekona and the scruffy-looking Ghast, chatting with a machine man. Oh robots are fun! I wish all valuables were guarded by robots, what a wonderful galaxy it would be then for an enterprising faerie!

His stealth abilities, natural to faeries of his kind, may well render him invisible to the machine being. As the metal man babbles on, oblivious to Elvin's presence, the faerie grins.

He pauses a moment before rolling his eyes. "Oh, but where are my manners protocols?" He offers each of them a handshake with a grin. "The name's Barrien. Ace Barrien. I probably should have said this up front, but Daedalus is my uncle."

Seems eager! He really wants to join up? Daedalus ...

"Daedalus?" He asks in a voice Ace is unlikely to hear. The name rolls about in his memory a moment, but he doesn't recall having heard it before. "Anyone know that name?"

Naturally, Elvin's eyes dart towards Ace's utility belt. Two pistols, each unique, sleek and deadly, are nicely secured in holsters. Elvin's lips curl into a knowing smile. Alas he already has a surplus of weaponry, thanks to his little escapade in the armory. And the shopping. No need to flinch those. I'm now fabulously wealthy. Well... maybe later.

His gaze settles on Ace's backpack, a tantalizing enigma. He couldn't see inside, but his curiosity is piqued. My new shiny x-ray vision ring might reveal its secrets... but Elvin decides against using it for now. I can always explore the backpack later, when Ace is distracted or asleep. Does he sleep? Or recharge? Whatever.

[Metri]

-----------------------------------
Perception: d%: [3] = 3 | 67%
JIC: 1d20: [9] = 9 | d%: [70] = 70 %
-----------------------------------

Character Sheet

• Radiate their Nature. Psychics: 100ft. Non-psychics: 12 ft.
• Sense Supernatural Evil and Magical Energy (3rd eye). 900ft (no-magic). 1900ft (if magic used).
  • Base (detect & ID creature): d%: [17] = 17 | 86%.
  • Track by psychic scent: d%: [95] = 95 | 95%.
• Sense Supernatural Evil (mystic). 450ft. 1d100: [18] = 18 | 97%.
• Sense Life. 300ft.

PPE: 171/171
ISP: 242/275
Psionic Crystal Armor MDC: 35/35 (Psi-FF(4/4): 70/70)
MDC: 73/73
MTB1_PPE: 180/180
MTB2_PPE: 180/180
MTB3_PPE: 180/180
SoE_PPE: 80/80
WoS_PPE: 40/40
Saving Throw Bonuses
+1 to all Saving Throws (via rune weapon Skorl)
Coma/Death: +4%
Magic (varies): +1
Lethal Poison (14+): +1
Non-Lethal Poison (16+): +1
Insanity (12+): +1
Psionics (10+): +1 (+2 Crystal Armor FF)
+7 vs Possession
+2 vs Despair
+2 vs Horror Factor
+2 vs Illusions
+1 vs Poison and Disease

Conditions

To Metri, he shrugs ”That’s the problem with alternate futures. The more progress we make, the less useful the warnings from my alternate self. I can tell you that the message your predecessors brought me said nothing about the Necrol fleet or a trip into the heart of the Anvil Galaxy. The situation on Alexandria was mentioned, however- part of a master stroke that decapitated UWW leadership at a crucial moment. You at least appear to have stopped it from hitting other core worlds. This time.”

"Win some, lose some. Got it." Metri says non-commitally. He doesn't claim to know much about intergalactic events even when his personality is overwhelmed by an ancient warrior powering a rune weapon. Now that Skorl is in charge, there seems to be even less he can contribute to the conversation. But it does seem like they have avoided the darkest timeline.

Not much of a planner either, once the meeting is adjourned, Skorl wanders off in search for a meal. After filling his belly, he decides to hit the gym again and work up a sweat.

Best stay in tip-top shape for the oncoming battles.

[Exe]

Perception: 1d100: [26] = 26 /42%
JiC: 1d20: [3] = 3 / 1d100: [15] = 15

Conditions: Sense Rifts [110 miles] | Sense Dimensional Vortex | Res to Cold/Fire (1/2) | Bio-Regen 1d6*5/min | Sixth Sense [Inactive] |

MDC: 142/142
PPE: 291/291
ISP: 60/60
Personal FF, Deactivated: 110/110

|

Skills:

Post:

Exe listens to Thraxus as he speaks and only nods, contemplating what is being told to them with a particular thought lingering in the demi-god's mind. This time... Exe ponders. Was the future we just averted the first or the last, what if we simply can't remember the other attempts? Those relics play too loosely with the laws of space and time. Exe considers, gripping his more wrinkled hand into a strong first. At least I am not decrepit and can still fight. My old ways of pacifism might no longer serve me considering the threat we face, but I will not let fear compromise who I am. If I am to be a peacekeeper, I must strive to fight for peace when necessary. Exe considers internally, then refocusing his mind on Thraxus' words.

When Doodles sends out the text, Exe lifts up his arm and checks his personal computer to read the information on the Kingdom of Rynncryll. Exe reads up on the text while Thraxus continues speaking and, if possible, records Thraxus' words using his personal computer to review later. Exe nods at the last comment. "We haven't exactly been welcome the past few stops, so that's a fair point." Exe comments on not revealing themselves.

When they are dismissed to return to the ship, Exe returns to his new room to check on his minions and finds them right where he left them, nodding in apparent approval. "It seems patience is a virtue of Spirits."
Exe comments to which Kalinda opens her eyes and shakes her head, leaving Matthew room to comment. "Actually, Kalinda has been quite restless and makes it hard to meditate. Her and Corus have become fast friends." Matthew comments and Exe nods, looking to Kalinda. "We have new information and are making ready to leave. I am going to head back out to the Center market to see about aquiring some last minute helpful items. You may join me, but you must swear not to react to minor injustices you see on this world. It is not our mission." Exe states and Kalinda nods, standing. "Understood, anything to stretch my legs." Kalinda confirms then will follow Exe out of the room, leaving Matthew and Corus on the ship. If Exe runs into Elvin on the way out, Exe will pause. "Elvin, I'm going back out into the market and you've proven quite a smooth talker with those in the market. Would you be keen on accompanying me and maybe helping me find them? Just a couple things." Exe says and if Elvin accepts, will explain what he wants.

Exe leaves Doodle's shop in search of some final preparations with Kalinda close in tow. It is unclear if he notices the Machine Person, or if he cares at the moment. If he does see the Machine Person, he will offer a polite bow of his head and continue on. If he sees Ghast/Andra speaking to the Machine Person, he will stop and also listen in without interrupting the conversation.

[Elvin]

((Rolls carried))

If Exe runs into Elvin on the way out, Exe will pause. "Elvin, I'm going back out into the market and you've proven quite a smooth talker with those in the market. Would you be keen on accompanying me and maybe helping me find them? Just a couple things." Exe says and if Elvin accepts, will explain what he wants.

Exe leaves Doodle's shop in search of some final preparations with Kalinda close in tow. It is unclear if he notices the Machine Person, or if he cares at the moment. If he does see the Machine Person, he will offer a polite bow of his head and continue on. If he sees Ghast/Andra speaking to the Machine Person, he will stop and also listen in without interrupting the conversation.

Elvin's eyes light up at Exe's proposal. A shopping spree? With a demigod's credits to spend? The challenge, the thrill of the hunt – is it an opportunity I can refuse? I don't think so!

"A shopping spree? Count me in!" he exclaims, his voice filled with a childlike enthusiasm. "I am a sultan of sales, a maestro of mercantilism. Your credits will be put to good use, I assure you."

He cracks his knuckles, a playful gesture that belies his predatory instincts. Any market, with wondrous array of goods and services, is his playground. He is ready to haggle, to negotiate, to squeeze every last credit's worth out of every transaction. Failing that, one can always steal items of interest!

With a newfound purpose, Elvin follows Exe, his mind already racing with possibilities. While he's at it he peppers Exe with questions about what sorts of items he seeks.

While he's at it, Elvin takes an opportunistic pick pockets rolls on some unsuspecting schmuck he brushes past during his shopping spree.

Pick Pockets 89%: 1d100: [32] = 32 (SUCCESS)

Contingency: If Elvin has a moment before striking, he enhances his pick pocketing skills with Enhance Reflexes for an additional +15% to all Physical skills.

Any item lifted he hides away in a dimensional pocket for later examination away from prying eyes.

[Draggor]

Perception: 1d100: [25] = 25 | 30%
JIC: 1d20: 1d20: [1] = 1 | 1d100: [31] = 31

Post
"Sir Qu'Orth..." Draggor softly repeats, while those other lives present much stronger reactions. A good fight! Not OUR fight. We've been mistaken for both Splugorth and Kreeghor. We've been owned before, he is worth finding. We're really giving ourselves to galactic politics? We understand a warrior with a cause. Hmm, a new friend? That last thought by the pilot causes all the others to scream in unison YOU ARE DANGEROUS!, and shaking the control.

The creature's ever increasing distracted state almost prevents them from hearing Captain Sekona's command: we're headed to Koliath, and we best wrap up our affairs before departure. This of course nudges forward the next set of internal arguments over the shopping list and its priorities.

We can't just rely on our abilities, especially if trying to blend in.
There are ways to protect our mind.
Knives! Blades! Plasma swords! Make it up close and personal!
No, we need more versatile rifles!
Going to need a lot of faerie wine to survive this...
We should be using MORE of our abilities!
We haven't tried opening it since the Relic.
Yes, yes! I never got to know!

The urge to forgo shopping in exchange for the memory, and power, that eluded The Lost One all their life, while strong, succumbs to the wills of those other, much louder voices, especially that of The Merc. Anyone observing Draggor leave the ship might guess they were uncomfortable at best, or suffering from an unknown condition at worst, all while muttering to themselves about potential purchases, often in different accents. The creature doesn't register Ghast, Captain Sekona, and the machine person's presence, let alone existence.

LET'S GO SHOPPING!

Returning from shopping...
Whatever Draggor's haul, the creature's mercurial mood shows through. You wanted this. You had Metri and Kaedras to get us in order. You could resume The Lost One's practice. At some point they will run into fellow crew, and of note, a machine person. "You're new!" The words project out of Draggor in an awkward forward, but ultimately curious tone.

[Dark Lord]

The meeting with Thraxus wraps up, and you all discuss your next move on your way back to the ship. Joan and Metri verbalize a few thoughts beforehand, but most of the rest of you are concentrating on your own tasks. Mostly of the shopping variety, although Andra makes a bit of a show of narrowing down the list of target planets to two, and flipping a credit chip to decide which of the two to hit first. It lands, bottoms up, and so you and the crew will be heading to Koliath next.

After some musings and a bit of an internal multilogue Draggor heads back into the city proper. Exe does similarly after a brief meeting with his minions (new and old). With everyone concentrating on your purchases, Ghast and Andra are the only ones who spot the newcomer lurking outside Doodles’. Rather than attempt a stealthy approach, though, Ace decides some direct communication is in order, so in response to Ghast’s initial (and none-too-friendly) greeting and Andra’s strong but silent backup the machine person introduces himself and gets right to the point after a few remarks about the crew’s character.

The strange alien asks after another Machine Person by the name of Daedalus, who allegedly was a member of the crew at one point. Those of you who’ve interfaced with Datephus directly (i.e., telepathically) will realize that this is the same machine person whose death went into the creation of your unique, techno-wizard AI. Those of you who have just read the ship’s logs conventionally might remember the name if you pass a perception check (add +30% if you possess any psionic abilities, auto-succeed if you use the total recall psi-power). One way or another, someone should remember the name, even if you never met this Daedalus directly. The question is, what do you do with this information?

Elvin tries to interact with Ace himself, only to realize that his anti-machine power apparently works on Machine People as well. After some mildly frustrating (and intriguing) attempts to communicate, Elvin excitedly decides to accompany Exe on his shopping trip instead. Finally, once Andra gets to the ship he asks Datephus for a diagnostic report, to which the AI replies after a few minutes ”BRIEF SURVEY COMPLETE. ALL SYSTEMS OPERATING WITHIN NORMAL PARAMETERS. QUERY: FULL SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTIC WILL TAKE APPROXIMATELY 1.84 STANDARD HOURS. BRIDGE CONTROLS WILL BE OFFLINE DURING THIS TIME. PROCEED?”

What are you doing?

[Joan Echo]

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [14*] = 1
JiC 1d20: [20] = 20 / 1d100: [20] = 20

Armor
Splugorth Talisman of Armor of Ithan (inactive)
Teal tank-top with black floral print
Black skirt with gold fringe
Strappy sandals
HPC bracelet with bejeweled band

Effects and skills
Cook (70%) 1d100<70: [98] = 0 - Snacks?

After shopping, Joan returns back to Doodles and sees her new teammates talking to a machine urqos. She had hardly noticed him when she left the shop. He was just one of many grim faces crowding the damaged streets of Center. She's only one goddess; it's not like she's omnipotent or something. But there he is still, and this time talking to Urqos Andra and Urqos Ghast. Is he a part of the team. I don't recognize him. Could he be a new recruit? There is high turnover with the Adventurers.

She walks up to the three and says, "My good and dear urqos. Why are you chatting with this stranger out here? Come inside!" She looks over at Ace, "You too. All strangers are welcome wherever I go, so come join us. We'd love to hear about your business and any stories that you have."

If she sees Elvin flying around she will snap her fingers, "Fae! We need drinks! If you're going to help with hospitality you need to make sure our guests have beverages!"

If Elvin isn't around, she fetches a pitch of water, grabs whatever fruit juices Icky left in the fridge and puts them into carafes as well. She grabs an assortment of produce and mashes them into a lumpy and sad colored dip that she serves with a box of crackers. With her luck/skill rolls, it is they are the stalest things in the galley.

Once she has a moment to sit down, she leans forward and smiles at Ace. "Hello traveler, I am Joan Echo the Goddess of Hospitality. Why have you come looking for my friends?"

[Elvin]

JIC: 1d20: [18] = 18 , 1d100: [75] = 75
Perception: 28% / 1d100: [41] = 41 (FAIL)

Conditions: Cloaking

If she sees Elvin flying around she will snap her fingers, "Fae! We need drinks! If you're going to help with hospitality you need to make sure our guests have beverages!"

As Joan snaps her fingers, demanding drinks, Elvin raises an eyebrow. Might as well play along I suppose.

"Drinks? Excellent choice! I'll see what stocks this crew have on hand." He glances about. A bar would be useful about now.

Oh who needs a bar, I'm a thief. A very good thief. I already have a few bottles of something up my sleeves.

He looks at the captain. "Remember that lorvetberry spritz we had at the casino?" he asks, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "While you were at the buffet, one of the waiters there insisted I take a few bottles." Actually I stole the lot, but you all don't need to know that now do you?

He reaches into a dimensional pocket in his multi-coloured jacket, and produces a bottles filled with the vibrant liquid. "You never know when a little luxury can come in handy," he said, pouring a glass for each person.

He stops at Ace, a questioning look on his face. "Would the mechanical gentleman prefer, perhaps, motor oil or gear grease instead?"

She grabs an assortment of produce and mashes them into a lumpy and sad colored dip that she serves with a box of crackers. With her luck/skill rolls, it is they are the stalest things in the galley.

Once she has a moment to sit down, she leans forward and smiles at Ace. "Hello traveler, I am Joan Echo the Goddess of Hospitality. Why have you come looking for my friends?"

Elvin looks at what is likely a sub-optimal offering from Joan and wrinkles his nose in obvious disapproval.

"That looks, erm, disgusting.. don't you think?" Elvin shrugs, "I might not know the first thing about cookery, but I have a few tricks up my sleeves."

He reaches into his pockets and produces a selection of excellent cookies and fruit tarts lifted from the casino's buffet. To top it off he decorates the table with an edible bouquet of flowers.

Housekeeping (professional) 74%: 1d100: [74] = 74 <- Set the table like a true professional waiter can

"There, that's much better!" he chortles, feeling rather smug. Not bad at all!

[Metri]

-----------------------------------
Perception: d%: [26] = 26 | 67%
JIC: 1d20: [6] = 6 | d%: [51] = 51 %
-----------------------------------

Character Sheet

• Radiate their Nature. Psychics: 100ft. Non-psychics: 12 ft.
• Sense Supernatural Evil and Magical Energy (3rd eye). 900ft (no-magic). 1900ft (if magic used).
  • Base (detect & ID creature): d%: [36] = 36 | 86%.
  • Track by psychic scent: d%: [12] = 12 | 95%.
• Sense Supernatural Evil (mystic). 450ft. 1d100: [52] = 52 | 97%.
• Sense Life. 300ft.

PPE: 171/171
ISP: 242/275
Psionic Crystal Armor MDC: 35/35 (Psi-FF(4/4): 70/70)
MDC: 73/73
MTB1_PPE: 180/180
MTB2_PPE: 180/180
MTB3_PPE: 180/180
SoE_PPE: 80/80
WoS_PPE: 40/40
Saving Throw Bonuses
+1 to all Saving Throws (via rune weapon Skorl)
Coma/Death: +4%
Magic (varies): +1
Lethal Poison (14+): +1
Non-Lethal Poison (16+): +1
Insanity (12+): +1
Psionics (10+): +1 (+2 Crystal Armor FF)
+7 vs Possession
+2 vs Despair
+2 vs Horror Factor
+2 vs Illusions
+1 vs Poison and Disease

Conditions

Fairly oblivious to the coming and goings of the rest of the crew, Metri/Skorl works up a good sweat, showers off and heads to the mess for some grub before he conveniently bumps into Joan and Elvin attempting to host a machine man.

Best not eat those crackers... Think they spent some quality time on the floor... Picked up some ship-dander... Skorl thinks as he reminisces about his own attempt to eat that particular package of comestibles not too long ago. And he had rejected the notion after needing to pick some manner of lint out of his teeth.

"Er, Welcome?" the Yhabbayar inquires in greeting to Ace, "Sk... Er, Metri." He greets haltingly with an awkward bow highly atypical of the diminutive mystic.

Should introductions continue, he will share perfunctorily before mumbling, "Pardon me..." and squeezing his way past for the REAL reason he is there. And gather up some food for himself before he skirts off again.

[Exe]

Perception: 1d100: [42] = 42 /42% (+30% for to read the ship's logs)
JiC: 1d20: [17] = 17 / 1d100: [95] = 95

Conditions: Sense Rifts [110 miles] | Sense Dimensional Vortex | Res to Cold/Fire (1/2) | Bio-Regen 1d6*5/min | Sixth Sense [Inactive] |

MDC: 142/142
PPE: 291/291
ISP: 60/60
Personal FF, Deactivated: 110/110

|

Skills:


Post:

Exe returns to the DSM (with Elvin?) with a new cloak and forceshield which he passes off to Kalinda. "Something to help, Matthew has one as well. I expect this threat of the Necrols to be a true challenge." Exe warns his Seraph Spirit who nods, the shield generator finding a place on her belt. When he finds the Machine Man on the DSM and the name of the former Machine Man, Daedalus, Exe decides to take a gander at the ships logs to see if he can find any reference of it. Not that I've met that one but maybe there will be something in the ship. Exe considers but his curiosity gets the best of him.

To Ace, Exe offers a polite bow. "I am Oren Exe, Exe for short. I've never met this Daedalus. but might be able to check the ship logs." Exe introduces himself then has a brief moment where he gets lost in his head. Am I still Exe, should I take on a new name with my new stature? The teenager I used to be is lost and despite Elvin's promises, I do not see him coming back. My impulsive nature in part lead to this, and now I must master my own mind. Is a new name overkill, or signifying a new chapter in my life. Exe considers, his face growing solemn as he considers the potential impact. Exe will also look at the food Joan has prepared, but the smell is quite off putting.

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [97] = 97 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [3] = 3 ; 1d100: [99] = 99
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive),

360° scanning capability, +3 Initiative, +2 to Parry, +2 to Dodge, +5 to Roll w/, allows user to dodge all attack, even those from behind and/or surprise

H.P.: 33/33
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 249/249
Current Outfit: Clothes (Black T-Shirt, Worn Beige Cargo Pants, Raggedy Gray Sweater, Arm wraps, Combat Boots), Red Scarf, Weapon Harness, ratty overcoat.
Weapons & Armor
Armor: NE-BA-26 Special Body Armor 60/90
Integrated Force Field: 75/75
Weapons: HI-80 Combat Laser Rifle Ammo: 30/15
NE-4 Plasma Cartridge Pistol Ammo: 10/10
Slicer GR-Gun Ammo: 12/12
Phase Sword
Ripper Bayonet
A Variety of explosives.

"Neither one at the moment, pal, One, this is right where I needed to be... and two, robbing storefronts don't look good on a hero's resume."

"I have to say, Captain, for a crew that puts in so little effort into keeping a low profile you're impressively difficult to track down. It's taken me weeks just to filter through enough rumors and bribes to wind up outside this hole-in-the-wall of a weapons shop."

"The name's Barrien. Ace Barrien. I probably should have said this up front, but Daedalus is my uncle."

Ghast nods and smirks. Funny guy, but he's definitly here for the captain. Ghast thinks before pausing. Nope no idea who that is. Ghast thinks with a shrug. "I'm gonna hit a buffet, I'll be back." Ghast says as he makes his way from the conversation between Ace and Andra. Surprisingly true to his word Ghast hits the biggest buffet in Space town and gorges himself like no human could. Once sufficiently full, Ghast waddles his way back to the ship and finds a comfy chair in the lounge to nap off a food coma.

[Ace Berrien, BDH]

Perception: 1d100<25: [78] = 0
JIC: 1d20: [19] = 19 / 1d100: [85] = 85

"My good and dear urqos. Why are you chatting with this stranger out here? Come inside!" She looks over at Ace, "You too. All strangers are welcome wherever I go, so come join us. We'd love to hear about your business and any stories that you have."

If she sees Elvin flying around she will snap her fingers, "Fae! We need drinks! If you're going to help with hospitality you need to make sure our guests have beverages!"

Ace raises an eyebrow. Seems nice, but sounds like she's got some circuit paths degraded if she's talking to imaginary assistants... he muses. Still, it's an open gate and I shouldn't waste the opportunity. He gives Joan a grin as he moves up alongside her. "With pleasure, ma'am."

((OOC: Going on the presumption Ace can't see or hear Elvin until specifically told otherwise.))

"I am Oren Exe, Exe for short. I've never met this Daedalus. but might be able to check the ship logs."

"That'd definitely trigger my appreciation protocols," Ace nods. "The name's Barrien, Ace Barrien. As I was telling them," he guestures to Ghast and Andra, "your ship is the only lead I have so I'm hoping that if none of you have memory traces of him at least your ship's computer will."

"Er, Welcome?" the Yhabbayar inquires in greeting to Ace, "Sk... Er, Metri." He greets haltingly with an awkward bow highly atypical of the diminutive mystic.

Ace gives Metri a nod. "Master Metri, your reputation precedes you. It's a pleasure." Not exactly what I was expecting... but given how all over the motherboard the rumors were, I'm not exactly sure what I should have been expecting in the first place.

Assuming the group returns to the ship, his optics go wide. Precursors preserve us, he thinks to himself. If they're flying around in THAT crate, they're braver than I thought. He spares a side glance to the crew. On the other servo... given how motley the crew looks, maybe it's just their way of making themselves seem more ragamuffin than they really are.

"If ever a junker needed a level 1 diagnostic and a plasma conduit alignment..." he mutters under his breath.

Once she has a moment to sit down, she leans forward and smiles at Ace. "Hello traveler, I am Joan Echo the Goddess of Hospitality. Why have you come looking for my friends?"

Goddess? Oh yeah, definitely a few subroutines short of a code block... "Well Joan, it's definitely a pleasure -- it's not every standard day you meet a goddess..." Ace's grin only gets wider, and hopefully not awkwardly. "The name's Ace Barrien. The occupation is 'Big Damn Hero' -- or at least, that's the endgame goal. I've been trying to trace down my uncle Daedalus for the past few years as he's the biggest hero I've ever known and I'm hoping to learn the hero's coding from him. The vapor trails end with your ship."

If offered some refreshments, he'll politely refuse. "They look lovely, Your Worship, but we Lithonians can't ingest 'ganic foodstuffs." He pulls out a small piece of scrap metal from his jacket. "We go for 'the hard stuff' -- literally," he chuckles as he pops the piece in his mouth.

[Draggor]

Perception: 1d100: [38] = 38 | 30%
JIC: 1d20: 1d20: [4] = 4 | 1d100: [12] = 12

Post
The current pilot fidgets with the computer form of their newly acquired Daisho 10, an itch The Lost One felt. "Wonder where the last one of these went..." Open the room and you might find it. Why do you avoid it? We have a lot of history in there. Might overwhelm. I might... ...give one of us a chance? Amidst the fidgeting, a wandering path leads Draggor back to the galley where much of the crew now greets Ace.

"I am Oren Exe, Exe for short. I've never met this Daedalus. but might be able to check the ship logs."

"The name's Ace Barrien. The occupation is 'Big Damn Hero' -- or at least, that's the endgame goal. I've been trying to trace down my uncle Daedalus for the past few years as he's the biggest hero I've ever known and I'm hoping to learn the hero's coding from him. The vapor trails end with your ship."

I heard that name... You did, didn't you? Draggor thinks to themselves, eventually recalling a dialogue with Datephus. To anyone else in the room, the creature's neon blue eyes glow brighter, resulting in a response to Ace and Exe. "The ship knows Daedalus. What was it... Datephus's records derived from lived experiences of Daedalus and Astrophenes. Never did ask what was meant by that, had... other concerns." While still current, the pilot finds this a far more interesting topic, and goes for the direct request, "Datephus, what happened to Daedalus and Astrophenes?"

"We are Draggor," the creature says, while a bone wrapped hand gestures towards themself. "Hero business on this ship? Rewards, but also consequences." Sampling the food preparations from Joan falls in the unintended consequences category, and presents another inner conflict. Never met Icky, yet... I miss him. This is still better than gruel. On par with military rations.

[Dark Lord]

Spurred on by the goddess of hospitality, the crew welcomes Ace. Joan immediately takes the machine person into the ship and tries to make him as welcome as she can (without actually knowing what he eats). Playing along, Elvin is only too happy to serve as bartender (and server). While Ghast makes himself scarce and raids the biggest buffet he can find, Metri (or is it Skorl) indulges himself in whatever Joan fixes up. While Ace vocally appreciates the welcome (and Andra seconds it with a murmur), Exe and Draggor take the lead in actually looking into the machine person’s request. Exe suggests the logs, and after a quick check Draggor recalls some references to Daedalus on the part of Datephus. A more detailed query yields something resembling a traumatic memory, and when Datephus responds you can’t help but wonder if there’s a trace of sadness in its voice.

”COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES AND COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS WERE FORMER CREW. KILLED IN ACTION. COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS HAD MERGED WITH THE DIME STORE MAGIC WHEN IT WAS STRUCK BY MISSILES. POWER SURGE OVERLOADED CRITICAL SYSTEMS. COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS BEGAN TO LOSE NANOMACHINE COHESIVENESS. REQUESTED DELIVERY TO MYSTIC REACTOR.

I WAS THE RESULT. NANOMACHINES DISSOLVED, REINTEGRATED WITH COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES UNDER ANOMALOUS CIRCUMSTANCES.”

If the strange, magic AI (has anyone ever heard of such a thing) is to be believed, it seems that Ace’s long search is at an end. What are you doing?

[Captain Andra Sekona]

Perception: 1d100: [44] = 44 /62%
JIC: 1d20: [6] = 6 / 1d100: [84] = 84

He stands up straight, takes his hands out of his jacket's pockets, gives Ghast/Sekona two thumbs up, and flashes his best metallic smile.

Charm/Impress: 1d100<45: [33*] = 1
Invoke Trust/Intimidate: 1d100<65: [19*] = 1

The Captain keeps his hand where it is but gives Ace his attention for the time being.

"Neither one at the moment, pal," He shakes his head. "One, this is right where I needed to be... and two, robbing storefronts don't look good on a hero's resume." He lets out another chuckle and turns his attention to Sekona. "I have to say, Captain, for a crew that puts in so little effort into keeping a low profile you're impressively difficult to track down. It's taken me weeks just to filter through enough rumors and bribes to wind up outside this hole-in-the-wall of a weapons shop."

"I don't like unwanted attention. Wanted attention is a different story. Is there a point here?"

His smile lessens a bit. "Some of the rumors say you're heroes, others say you're anything but. Either way, you're busy folks so I'll make it quick. I'm looking for someone. A Lithon--sorry, a Machine Person like me. About this tall, silver skin, goes by the name of Daedalus. His last known whereabouts are linked to that Arcane Shuttle you call home. I was hoping you or a member of your crew would have data on his current whereabouts, or at the very least your ship's computer logs would have something I could go on. I've been searching for two standard years and you're the best lead I have." He shrugs. "And by 'the best lead I have,' I really mean the ONLY lead I have. So... can you help me? Please?"

Captain Sekona's right eyebrow raises as he hears a name he wasn't expecting to hear. But he doesn't want to give the game away yet. Bounty Hunter? Assassin? Edible Arrangements? Best to play my cards close to my chest. "Interesting. You know plenty about me but I know nothing about you."

He pauses a moment before rolling his eyes. "Oh, but where are my manners protocols?" He offers each of them a handshake with a grin. "The name's Barrien. Ace Barrien. I probably should have said this up front, but Daedalus is my uncle."

She walks up to the three and says, "My good and dear urqos. Why are you chatting with this stranger out here? Come inside!" She looks over at Ace, "You too. All strangers are welcome wherever I go, so come join us. We'd love to hear about your business and any stories that you have."

The Captain's eyes bug out a bit before he regains his composure. "Oh... Oh... Well, frak. Ace, I'm Captain Sekona as you already know. Follow me." Offering a handshake, Andra leads Ace onto the Dime Store Magic, mind spinning about how to break the news to him. No one wants to hear that their Uncle died and was turned into a magical engine slash shipboard intelligence, right? But a cold trail would probably kill this guy's spirit and that's something we don't do on my ship. Frakitall.

”BRIEF SURVEY COMPLETE. ALL SYSTEMS OPERATING WITHIN NORMAL PARAMETERS. QUERY: FULL SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTIC WILL TAKE APPROXIMATELY 1.84 STANDARD HOURS. BRIDGE CONTROLS WILL BE OFFLINE DURING THIS TIME. PROCEED?”

"Brief survey is sufficient, uh... computer. Thank you." Frak frak frak frak frak...

He looks at the captain. "Remember that lorvetberry spritz we had at the casino?" he asks, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "While you were at the buffet, one of the waiters there insisted I take a few bottles."

He reaches into a dimensional pocket in his multi-coloured jacket, and produces a bottles filled with the vibrant liquid. "You never know when a little luxury can come in handy," he said, pouring a glass for each person.

Panic begins to set over the normally unflappable man's face. His. Dead. Uncle. Is. My. Computer. Wait, what did Elvin say? "Ummm... yeah, that's good. Good...job." Andra grabs a glass as its offered and downs it in one gulp. He then grabs one of the bottles from Elvin and takes a swig every time he feels uncomfortable.

"I've never met this Daedalus. but might be able to check the ship logs."

"No that's quite alright, no need for..."

"The ship knows Daedalus.

Oh god no,

...

"Datephus, what happened to Daedalus and Astrophenes?"

”COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES AND COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS WERE FORMER CREW. KILLED IN ACTION. COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS HAD MERGED WITH THE DIME STORE MAGIC WHEN IT WAS STRUCK BY MISSILES. POWER SURGE OVERLOADED CRITICAL SYSTEMS. COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS BEGAN TO LOSE NANOMACHINE COHESIVENESS. REQUESTED DELIVERY TO MYSTIC REACTOR.

I WAS THE RESULT. NANOMACHINES DISSOLVED, REINTEGRATED WITH COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES UNDER ANOMALOUS CIRCUMSTANCES.”

"Uh... Welcome to the Dime Store Magic." The Captain downs the rest of the bottle and tosses it to the ground with a loud clatter. "Hope you survive the experience."

[Exe]

Perception: 1d100: [28] = 28 /42%
JiC: 1d20: [14] = 14 / 1d100: [100] = 100

Conditions: Sense Rifts [110 miles] | Sense Dimensional Vortex | Res to Cold/Fire (1/2) | Bio-Regen 1d6*5/min | Sixth Sense [Inactive] |

MDC: 142/142
PPE: 291/291
ISP: 60/60
Personal FF, Deactivated: 110/110

|

Skills:


Post:

Exe is rightly surprised and empathetic to the traumatic recollection provided by Datephus. That actually explains some things about the ship's A.I. Exe considers quietly to himself as Andra tries to make light of the situation.

"Uh... Welcome to the Dime Store Magic." ... "Hope you survive the experience."

Exe nods at the official, if somewhat melancholy welcome to the ship. "Yes, welcome. I wasn't expecting that answer from Datephus." Exe says to Ace. Maybe this is why the Captain tried to stop Draggor and I from looking into the logs and asking Datephus. I suppose it will show us how this Machine Man handles the unexpected and unwelcomed answers. Many seek answers, few want the truth. Exe considers to himself as he looks towards Ace

Exe takes a moment and then turns to Andra. "We should leave soon if we aim to investigate the Necrol presence before their goals reach fruition." Exe suggests. I have some things of my own to consider. Should I leave behind my past self and embrace what I was forced to become? It feels like I was robbed my childhood but in this galactic stage, perhaps my childhood was an experience I can call on, but not rely on. Exe considers to himself.

[Joan Echo]

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [42] = 0
JiC 1d20: [1] = 1 / 1d100: [99] = 99

The Goddess of Hospitality welcomes all newcomers on board the Dime Store Magic. She is the most gracious of hostesses, if not always the most competent of chefs.

"That looks, erm, disgusting.. don't you think? I might not know the first thing about cookery, but I have a few tricks up my sleeves."

"Truth be told, I haven't spent much time in the kitchen in the past three or four centuries," Joan confesses. I still make a hell of a sauce, tho. "I usually leave the cooking to my house urqos. Pro-tip: keep a top tier chef as worshipper at all times." She shrugs. "Besides, there is so much more to hosting than cooking food."

She practically squeals when Elvin 'conjures' up some much better snacks from the casino. She rushes over to help him set up the table for everyone else. While Joan is more than willing to boss people around, she does her part as well. "You're right, Fae! That is much better."

"Well Joan, it's definitely a pleasure... The vapor trails end with your ship."

"The ship knows Daedalus. What was it... Datephus's records derived from lived experiences of Daedalus and Astrophenes. Never did ask what was meant by that, had... other concerns. Datephus, what happened to Daedalus and Astrophenes?"

"COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES AND COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS WERE FORMER CREW. KILLED IN ACTION... REINTEGRATED WITH COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES UNDER ANOMALOUS CIRCUMSTANCES."

Joan listens as a lot of lore for the Galactic Adventurers is unloaded on the crew. She had gleaned some details about the team from her psychic link with her brother. And she learned more when she first met them. But all of this is brand new, and she suspects that Juan didn't know any of this either. Urqos live complicated lives, don't they? That's why I try not to dwell on it too much. After a century most of them will be dead anyway.

"Uh... Welcome to the Dime Store Magic. Hope you survive the experience."

"I couldn't have said it better myself!" Joan says raising a glass of wine. "Urqos Ace, please eat something."

"They look lovely, Your Worship, but we Lithonians can't ingest 'ganic foodstuffs. We go for 'the hard stuff' -- literally"

Joan smiles politely as she watches Ace eat a piece of metal. "That's very interesting. I don't think I've met a lithonian before," she says. "Are your kind organic then?"

[Metri]

-----------------------------------
Perception: d%: [73] = 73 | 67%
JIC: 1d20: [12] = 12 | d%: [22] = 22 %
-----------------------------------

Character Sheet

• Radiate their Nature. Psychics: 100ft. Non-psychics: 12 ft.
• Sense Supernatural Evil and Magical Energy (3rd eye). 900ft (no-magic). 1900ft (if magic used).
  • Base (detect & ID creature): d%: [90] = 90 | 86%.
  • Track by psychic scent: d%: [75] = 75 | 95%.
• Sense Supernatural Evil (mystic). 450ft. 1d100: [22] = 22 | 97%.
• Sense Life. 300ft.

PPE: 171/171
ISP: 242/275
Psionic Crystal Armor MDC: 35/35 (Psi-FF(4/4): 70/70)
MDC: 73/73
MTB1_PPE: 180/180
MTB2_PPE: 180/180
MTB3_PPE: 180/180
SoE_PPE: 80/80
WoS_PPE: 40/40
Saving Throw Bonuses
+1 to all Saving Throws (via rune weapon Skorl)
Coma/Death: +4%
Magic (varies): +1
Lethal Poison (14+): +1
Non-Lethal Poison (16+): +1
Insanity (12+): +1
Psionics (10+): +1 (+2 Crystal Armor FF)
+7 vs Possession
+2 vs Despair
+2 vs Horror Factor
+2 vs Illusions
+1 vs Poison and Disease

Conditions

Ace gives Metri a nod. "Master Metri, your reputation precedes you. It's a pleasure."

"Hmm. Yes. Mighty Warrior am I." Metri/Skorl grunts in response, thumping his chest thrice with a tridactyl fist. Hardly the behavior of a sage. But rather a warrior puffing out his chest in search of affirmation from others. "And the ladies... oh yes." Metri waggles his brow as though there were some hidden message unspoken between himself and the machine person about his prowess bedding women.

Exe takes a moment and then turns to Andra. "We should leave soon if we aim to investigate the Necrol presence before their goals reach fruition." Exe suggests.

"I also agree. Let us find some heads to smash!" Metri confirms with more enthusiasm than Exe's reserve, but likely appeals to the adventurism in Captain Andra.

I'm doing a fantastic job of being this green fellow. Nobody is noticing the difference! Skorl congratulates himself. Killing it! No notes!

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [14] = 14 /55%
Just in Case: 1d20: [20] = 20 ; 1d100: [16] = 16
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive),

360° scanning capability, +3 Initiative, +2 to Parry, +2 to Dodge, +5 to Roll w/, allows user to dodge all attack, even those from behind and/or surprise

H.P.: 33/33
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 249/249
Current Outfit: Clothes (Black T-Shirt, Worn Beige Cargo Pants, Raggedy Gray Sweater, Arm wraps, Combat Boots), Red Scarf, Weapon Harness, ratty overcoat.
Weapons & Armor
Armor: NE-BA-26 Special Body Armor 60/90
Integrated Force Field: 75/75
Weapons: HI-80 Combat Laser Rifle Ammo: 30/15
NE-4 Plasma Cartridge Pistol Ammo: 10/10
Slicer GR-Gun Ammo: 12/12
Phase Sword
Ripper Bayonet
A Variety of explosives.

Ghast saunters back into the Dime Store Magic... or waddles in more accurately. While Ghast appears outwardly human, his particular quirk of genetic deviation changes his dietary requirements, giving him two options, kill people or creatures and absorb their inner strength, or eat ten times the amount of food that a normal human his size would. Luckily for the world at large, Ghast is really trying to be a good man in that regard. Almost oblivious to the drama that just occurred, Ghast plops down on one of the couches and watches the group interact. I think I could take any one of them individually... the sprite may be a pain in the ass though. Ghast thinks casually as he considers what to do while the ship is in transit. I doubt a trip to the galactic core is going to be a short trip. I suppose I could spend some time brushing up on Necrol, and the general area we're heading to. Ghast considers, casually belching in the process.

[Ace Berrien, BDH]

Perception: 1d100<25: [65] = 0
JIC: 1d20: [15] = 15 / 1d100: [31] = 31

Joan smiles politely as she watches Ace eat a piece of metal. "That's very interesting. I don't think I've met a lithonian before," she says. "Are your kind organic then?"

Ace shakes his head. "Not exactly. We're a race of living machines, derived from robots or androids in kind of the same sense that Wolfen evolved from canines and humans evolved from primates. It's a long story, and parts of it are hard for me to wrap my processors around, but that's the micro-version."

"Ummm... yeah, that's good. Good...job." Andra grabs a glass as its offered and downs it in one gulp. He then grabs one of the bottles from Elvin and takes a swig every time he feels uncomfortable.

"I've never met this Daedalus. but might be able to check the ship logs."

"No that's quite alright, no need for..."

"The ship knows Daedalus. Datephus, what happened to Daedalus and Astrophenes?"

”COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES AND COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS WERE FORMER CREW. KILLED IN ACTION. COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS HAD MERGED WITH THE DIME STORE MAGIC WHEN IT WAS STRUCK BY MISSILES. POWER SURGE OVERLOADED CRITICAL SYSTEMS. COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS BEGAN TO LOSE NANOMACHINE COHESIVENESS. REQUESTED DELIVERY TO MYSTIC REACTOR.

I WAS THE RESULT. NANOMACHINES DISSOLVED, REINTEGRATED WITH COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES UNDER ANOMALOUS CIRCUMSTANCES.”

At first, Ace isn't sure what he's hearing. He turns to Andra with an awkward grin. "This... you're glitchin' me, right? This is some sort of a joke subroutine, right?" Slowly however it starts dawning on him that there's nothing joking about the situation. This does NOT compute. Retired, secret missions, even permanently offlined, I would have expected and could have handled. But to be essentially a ghost in the shell? Machinists only know how that's even possible in the first place.

He finally clears his throat and looks up towards where he thinks Datephus' voice is coming from (presumably a wall/ceiling mount speaker). "Uhm... Uncle Daed? Are you really in there? Do you even remember me? I'm your nephew Krys -- Perdix's son. You used to tell us all about your adventures when you'd come visit."

"Uh... Welcome to the Dime Store Magic. Hope you survive the experience."

"Yes, welcome. I wasn't expecting that answer from Datephus. We should leave soon if we aim to investigate the Necrol presence before their goals reach fruition."

The sound of Andra's bottle shattering snaps Ace back into the moment. "You weren't the only one, pal..." he pulls up his HPC and starts hastily keying in commands, not even waiting for Datephus to reply. "But thanks, all of you. Anyway, sounds like you're on a tight schedule and headed for dangerous space where you're going to need all the help you can get. I'm messaging for my gear to be delivered as soon as possible -- mainly just personal items, aside from my power armor -- so let me know which cabin's mine and once I get everything stowed I can get started on making sure this crate's spaceworthy before we need to leave..."

He pauses a moment, letting out a barely perceptible sigh and hoping that he sounds more confident/focused than he really feels. "...and I figure there will be plenty of time for 'familial discussions' along the way." Please remember me, Uncle Daed. PLEASE remember me. Precursors help me if I've come all this way just to find out that my uncle's been reduced to a soulless component of a ship's A.I. algorithm that doesn't remember his family; all my efforts will have been for nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Squadoo.

[Draggor]

Perception: 1d100: [47] = 47 | 30%
JIC: 1d20: 1d20: [12] = 12 | 1d100: [29] = 29

Post

”COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES AND COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS WERE FORMER CREW. KILLED IN ACTION. COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS HAD MERGED WITH THE DIME STORE MAGIC WHEN IT WAS STRUCK BY MISSILES. POWER SURGE OVERLOADED CRITICAL SYSTEMS. COMPONENT DESIGNATE: DAEDALUS BEGAN TO LOSE NANOMACHINE COHESIVENESS. REQUESTED DELIVERY TO MYSTIC REACTOR.

I WAS THE RESULT. NANOMACHINES DISSOLVED, REINTEGRATED WITH COMPONENT DESIGNATE: ASTOPHENES UNDER ANOMALOUS CIRCUMSTANCES.”

"Huh.. so that's what they meant by the ship might eat you..." Similar to Ace, Draggor is also looking up at the ceiling, despite the fact that the whole ship is Datephus, and with all the scanners, "eyes" are everywhere. We'd probably give it awful indigestion. We have a greater mission, do NOT get us eaten!

"...and I figure there will be plenty of time for 'familial discussions' along the way."

The creature scans over the newest crewmate. Be nice to him. I'm not nice? You always had trouble caring. Another new person. How many before? How many will be after? They're all the same! Mind our reputation. Maybe you could learn something from him. There's that headache again, and only action keeps it at bay. "We talk with Datephus all the time. Could say they were our first friend here. We'll show you to your room." Carapace covered temple rubbing accompanies the stroll through the ship to what was Talon's quarters. "This is now yours," Draggor says to Ace, while an outstretched arm flourishes across the horizon of the room. Awkwardly and suddenly, the creature asks, "How long does your kind live? If not cut short anyway..." Why did I ask that? I would have asked. Got to work on our social skills... THAT'S your conclusion?!

They leave Ace to get familiar with their new quarters, while the alien among aliens enters their own next door. There, they feel the compulsion to walk up to a blank wall, and hold a hand out. "I know we need this..." they say out loud, hand glowing with crackling red energy while a small disc of it appears on the wall. Yes! Useful things in there, things we can check up on! Our trophiesssss! Our losses. Tactical advantage, can use it in a pinch. Please! I waited so long... Alas, the hand closes into a fist, causing the energy to dissipate.

"Not yet, feels old. Need a distraction." The creature heads to the training area, and begins a series of drills that satisfies many of The Merc's urges, while also performing many a maneuver The Lost One did in the various combat games. Wall jumping, flips, energy blasts sent out sideways and at odd angles, with much growling and snarling as auditory accompaniment.

[Dark Lord]

After a warm welcome spearheaded by Andra and the team’s goddess of hospitality (and not at all lessened by a somewhat bloated Ghast waddling his way back up from the buffet), the team sits Ace down and asks Datephus about the machine person’s missing Uncle. The mystic AI’s revelation produces no small amount of shock amongst the team, all of whom have likely gotten accustomed to the presence of the unique techno-wizard AI. A few of you recall comments regarding the ship eating its crew that suddenly make much more sense, but no-one is more shocked than Ace to see his search come to such an anticlimactic end.

"Uhm... Uncle Daed? Are you really in there? Do you even remember me? I'm your nephew Krys -- Perdix's son. You used to tell us all about your adventures when you'd come visit."

Datephus pauses for nearly a minute- an eternity in both machine person and computer terms. Eventually, it stutters out a response. ”ERR. ERROR. FILES NOT FOUND. I… WE… ARE SORRY, LITTLE ONE.” The ship almost sounds sad.

Nonetheless, Ace decides that in the absence of any other overarching cause he will travel with this unusual group and see if he can’t learn more about the AI carrying on his uncle’s legacy. Or at least learn more about why Daedalus died. In light of Andra’s, Exe’s, and Joan’s warm welcomes he decides to get his gear transferred to the ship posthaste. Exe and Metri both express their desire to launch and be on their way as soon as possible. Draggor realizes that they are headed for uncharted territory and decides to make themselves at home in the training room. Once Ace gets settled in, you blast off and take your leave of Center once again.

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