The stillness of the void is disrupted by the appearance of a dilapidated cargo vessel, its prow streaming with plumes of fairie-fire from its jump.

Behind it the miraculous tear in space and time that humanity barely understands has already collapsed. Blessedly unwitnessed by human eyes.

Before the hull has even had a chance to cool it crashes into the veil of micro-debris kicked up by the nearby asteroid field, wherein lies its destination.

As thrusters burn to induce the vessel’s drift towards the mining outpost it was so suddenly instructed to divert towards, the scant handful of crew within begin to stir in their cryopods.

None of them know yet that this shuffle of their cargo run is likely to change their lives.

But that is for later, for now there are questions to be answered…

===

Greetings and welcome to The Haunting of Ypsilon-14, a One-Shot in the Mothership TTRPG system. This is a very deadly Sci-Fi Horror game, so brace yourselves!

Mothership is a roll-under d100 system. We’ll be doing Bo2 here, to soften the edge just a bit. Generally if you’re rolling dice it’s because you’ve fucked up or haven't planned well enough anyway. Doubles are crits, if they’re above the Stat/Save you’re rolling against then that’s a crit fail. If they’re below, that’s a crit success. Where skills apply, they raise your effective score by +10 for Trained, +15 for Expert, and +20 for Master (you can stack them if you’re clever).

There’s more, but we’ll cover it as we go.

===

>>6225004 (OP)

===
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lNNAFU45do

The first question:
>Who are you? [Pick 1]


>Parker Ross, Ship Technician. Just another, particularly venerable, member of the technically inclined horde required to allow spacefaring society continue its vague semblance of running smoothly. A third generation teamster, who never even considered anything else could be a possibility for him. The marvels of technology and culture that once shone brightly in his eye have long lost their lustre, but perhaps something can shock him from the lethargy of the routine.
//Stats// Strength 38; Speed 41; Intellect 41; Combat 39.
//Saves// Sanity 36; Fear 27; Body 34.
//Health// HP Per Wound 17; Wounds 2.
//Stress// Current 2; Minimum 2.
//Class// Teamster. Once per session you may take Advantage on a Panic Check.
//Skills// Trained: Industrial Equipment, Jury Rigging, Zero-G; Expert: Mechanical Repair.
//Inventory// 100cr; Snake Whiskey; Crew Attire w/ “Fix Me First!” Caduceus Patch [1AP]; Kano-9 Combat Shotgun (4d10, Close Range, 4/4 Shots)

>Eliza Reeves, Science Intern. Fresh out of the nanomed university, Eliza managed to land the ship medic position aboard the Meridian Hauler. It’s not nearly as exciting as she was expecting but that can change on a dime out in the Rim, and the money’s quite nice for a new grad. For now she takes her solace in brief bouts of music between the barrage of checkups she has to run every time the ship stops at an outpost.
//Stats// Strength 31; Speed 38; Intellect 41; Combat 34.
//Saves// Sanity 23; Fear 21; Body 22.
//Health// HP Per Wound 15; Wounds 2.
//Stress// Current 3; Minimum 2.
//Class// Scientist. Failing a Sanity Save causes all Close friendlies to gain 1 Stress.
//Skills// Trained: Zoology, Art; Expert: Pathology; Master: Surgery.
//Inventory// 100cr; Shell Fragment Necklace; Collapsible Violin; Crew Attire w/ Inverted Cross Patch [1AP]; Mylar Blanket; First Aid Kit; Vial of Acid.


>[1/2]
===

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>6225008

===

>Quentin Dietrich, Ship Security. It’s a funny organization, the Colonial Marines. They’ll treat you like royalty right before sending you to die in the grinder against whatever the latest xeno-horror the hypercorps created, unleashed, or need annihilated to get at whatever’s underneath the nest. It’s the camaraderie that keeps you there though, so what’s a man left with after all those comrades die? Well apparently a pittance of a retirement, and permanent milkruns babysitting a cargo hauler that’s not got anything worth stealing anyway.
//Stats// Strength 36; Speed 44; Intellect 37; Combat 53.
//Saves// Sanity 24; Fear 42; Body 27.
//Health// HP Per Wound 18; Wounds 3.
//Stress// Current 2; Minimum 2.
//Class// Marine. Whenever you Panic, every close friendly must make a Fear Save.
//Skills// Trained: Athletics, Military Training; Expert: Firearms.
//Inventory// 120cr; Areca Nut Necklace; Battle Dress w/ Pin Up Model Riding Missile Patch [7AP]; Binoculars; Personal Locator; SK109 Seeker Smart Rifle (4d10, Extreme Range, 3/3 Shots); 6 SR Ammo.

>Welther, Ship Android. Droids, bots, androids, make up the other bulwark of technical expertise keeping space navigable. While the models offered by various hypercorps vary in specialties, the Welther is a well tested and respected design. Able to go places humans cannot easily go, maintain their composure and wits in dreadful situations, and act as conduits of Company will, without self preservation entering the equation (provided regular diagnostics have been maintained) the Welther is a common sight from the core out through the Rim.
//Stats// Strength 35; Speed 42; Intellect 51; Combat 36.
//Saves// Sanity 23; Fear 80; Body 20.
//Health// HP Per Wound 18; Wounds 3.
//Stress// Current 2; Minimum 2.
//Class// Android. Your unnervingly almost-human presence causes Fear Saves made by Close friendlies to be taken at Disadvantage.
//Skills// Trained: Computers, Linguistics, Mathematics; Expert: Hacking.
//Inventory// [Redacted]

>[2/2]

>[Link to this post with your votes. First to 3 or most votes by this evening!]

===

>>6225009
>>6225008
>Welther, Ship Android.

>>6225009
>Quentin Dietrich, Ship Security.

>>6225009
Parker Ross.

>Welther, Ship Android. Droids, bots, androids, make up the other bulwark of technical expertise keeping space navigable. While the models offered by various hypercorps vary in specialties, the Welther is a well tested and respected design. Able to go places humans cannot easily go, maintain their composure and wits in dreadful situations, and act as conduits of Company will, without self preservation entering the equation (provided regular diagnostics have been maintained) the Welther is a common sight from the core out through the Rim.
//Stats// Strength 35; Speed 42; Intellect 51; Combat 36.
//Saves// Sanity 23; Fear 80; Body 20.
//Health// HP Per Wound 18; Wounds 3.
//Stress// Current 2; Minimum 2.
//Class// Android. Your unnervingly almost-human presence causes Fear Saves made by Close friendlies to be taken at Disadvantage.
//Skills// Trained: Computers, Linguistics, Mathematics; Expert: Hacking.
//Inventory// [Redacted]

>>6225009
>Eliza Reeves, Science Intern. Fresh out of the nanomed university, Eliza managed to land the ship medic position aboard the Meridian Hauler. It’s not nearly as exciting as she was expecting but that can change on a dime out in the Rim, and the money’s quite nice for a new grad. For now she takes her solace in brief bouts of music between the barrage of checkups she has to run every time the ship stops at an outpost.

I wanna be the doc that discovers the problem and goes insane from it, and maybe, just maybe, solves it. Or maybe just grafts shit onto people's bodies, if that's possible. The survivor character is overdone in these horror scenarios.

>>6225009
>Welther, Ship Android.
I'm sure, as a robot, nothing bad can ever happen to us.

>>6225009

>Welther, Ship Android. Droids, bots, androids, make up the other bulwark of technical expertise keeping space navigable. While the models offered by various hypercorps vary in specialties, the Welther is a well tested and respected design. Able to go places humans cannot easily go, maintain their composure and wits in dreadful situations, and act as conduits of Company will, without self preservation entering the equation (provided regular diagnostics have been maintained) the Welther is a common sight from the core out through the Rim.
Robots are always the best character in a sci-fi horror.

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>6225009

>Welther [4, Locked]
>Parker [1]
>Quentin [1]
>Eliza [1]

A company asset, we shall be. Writing now.

===

>Welther, Ship Android. Droids, bots, androids, make up the other bulwark of technical expertise keeping space navigable. While the models offered by various hypercorps vary in specialties, the Welther is a well tested and respected design. Able to go places humans cannot easily go, maintain their composure and wits in dreadful situations, and act as conduits of Company will, without self preservation entering the equation (provided regular diagnostics have been maintained) the Welther is a common sight from the core out through the Rim.
//Stats// Strength 35; Speed 42; Intellect 51; Combat 36.
//Saves// Sanity 23; Fear 80; Body 20.
//Health// HP Per Wound 18; Wounds 3.
//Stress// Current 2; Minimum 2.
//Class// Android. Your unnervingly almost-human presence causes Fear Saves made by Close friendlies to be taken at Disadvantage.
//Skills// Trained: Computers, Linguistics, Mathematics; Expert: Hacking.
//Inventory// 90cr, Antique Company Scrip (Asteroid Mine), Manufacturer Supplied Attire w/ Red Shirt Logo Patch [1AP], Mylar Blanket, Infrared Goggles, SK109 Seeker Smart Rifle (4d10, Extreme Range, 3/3 Shots); 6 SR Ammo.

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>6225128
>>6225009

===

It arrived without warning from the dark, a sudden rip in causality a scant few dozen kilometers Southwest (Z-Vector) Northeast (XY-Vector) of the ship.


By happenstance you’re beside one of the observation ports when it does. Synthetic eyes glimpse what they can of the fracturing in the lens of reality. No human has ever seen it and lived, not long enough to relay the experience anyway. Occasionally a crew member will ask if you’ve seen the rip before, and then to describe it. You must always decline. If there are words for it, the hypercorp didn’t see fit to grace you with them.

You recognize yourself digressing, and focus back on the Rip.

Too small, too precise to be pirates. No. Whoever sent this warp-messenger had your exact information. Even then, they got lucky for it to land this close.

Aah, the transmission has already arrived. Not long and the Captain-AI decodes it, directing you to observe on the nearest display screen.

>...
>>....
>Priority:: [MAXIMUM PRIORITY DISPATCH]
>To whom it may concern:: [UNIT DESIGNATION: MERIDIAN HAULER] receive: [NEW ORDERS]
>New orders:.. [ACQUISITION OF MINERAL SAMPLES;] location: [STATION; DESIGNATION: Ypsilon-14]
>JUMP CORE USE…AUTHORIZED

A plaintext missive accompanies the directives but that is for the benefit of the human crew, not yourself.

What does concern yourself, and not the human crew, is the secondary missive. It flashes, existing for a brief few minutes before auto-cannibalizing itself from all digital media…except for your own.

>Crew Unit: MERIDIAN HAULER: <Welther>; SPECIAL ORDERS
>Hypercorp Rank S-7 Researcher, arrival at Ypsilon-14, CURRENT TIME minus 672 Hours.
-00- Failure to transmit required status update, CURRENT TIME minus 14 Hours.
>< Directive: Acquire Dr. Giovanni, AND/OR Research, AND MINERAL SAMPLES. LOCAL CONTACT: Sonya, STATION OVERSEER.
-> AUTHORIZED COMPENSATION MEASURES UP TO N-8.
> AUTHORIZED REACTION TO OPPOSITION…Lethal

N-8 compensation measures represent quite a sum of credits, or equivalent values of services (per standard Company equivalency charts). This is potentially quite a lucrative promotion offer, should the Station Overseer necessitate convincing to assist you. It could also be a fair bribe for any other crew, should it prove more convenient to gain their assistance rather than take other measures.

A smile reflects in the now black glass of the display. A bit too wide, you decide. Too much teeth, imbalanced against the burnished silver of your optic-receptors.

No matter.

>[1/2]

===

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>6225161

===

With Corporate permission for a jump, it’s hardly 2 hours before you’re emerging from a rip in the Ypsilon system. Pseudo-plasma billows off the prow of the Meridian Hauler after the jump, and with the Captain’s help you shift into the optimal route to the Megasteroid where Ypsilon-14 resides.

You quickly review the details of the station.

A standard prospecting mine station. Small.


9 crew, plus Dr. Giovanni and one likely unregistered synth-pet.

The Overseer, Sonya, likely doesn’t even realize that the substance she casually reported is the source of all this.

Last check-in from the station was 2 days ago, reported all normal. No clear reason for Giovanni to miss a q-comm transmission, in that case.

Unless something has changed.

…

The drift of the ship scatters a screen of micrometeors, but it is little consequence to save 15 minutes to the station on a max priority set of orders.

Speaking of time, it is time for you to rouse the crew from their Cryo-Pods. You glance at the cameras, and see them there. Three of the 6 pods occupied.

It begs the question, who will you personally tend to as they revivify? They all /can/ come to on their own, but you must consider the social dynamics of the crew and the upcoming task.

>Who do you decide to aid? [1].
>Parker. He is the most experienced of the crew, and ensuring he is ingratiated to you will provide advantages if unexpected conditions arise on the station.
>Eliza. She is the least experienced of the crew, but the ship’s doctor is crucial to have in optimum condition should any human repairs be required.
>Quentin. The marine is the only member of the crew that you have reason to believe might be able to overpower you, even if caught off guard. You keep your eye on him as a habit, accordingly.
>No one. They are all capable of coming to on their own. Instead, you will contact Sonya in advance and private to gain an understanding of current circumstances on the station.


===

>Additionally, the crew will roll [Body Checks] as they awaken from cryosleep. Give me 1d100 linked to this post. At least [3], at most [6].

>[2/2]

We return tomorrow!

>>6225162
Ah. We're playing Ash in this scenario. Well then.
>>Quentin. The marine is the only member of the crew that you have reason to believe might be able to overpower you, even if caught off guard. You keep your eye on him as a habit, accordingly.
Muscle is always useful to have.

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>6225162
And dice.

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>6225162
>Quentin. The marine is the only member of the crew that you have reason to believe might be able to overpower you, even if caught off guard. You keep your eye on him as a habit, accordingly.

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>6225162
>No one. They are all capable of coming to on their own. Instead, you will contact Sonya in advance and private to gain an understanding of current circumstances on the station.

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>6225190
>>6225192
>>6225200
What high rolls! How horrible in this system. Everyone is having a rough time coming out of cryosleep. We'll give Quentin advantage on his save, since you're personally tending to him.

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>6225162

===

You opt to ensure Quentin’s wakening goes smoothly. Muscle is only a company asset if it’s reliable, and cryosickness is rather debilitating.

Stepping into the cold light of the cryobay you notice something wrong. Dim figures squirm against pink goo and thin suctioned-down plastic, still gaunt from defluidation.

“Tssk.”

It’s far too soon. The wakening sequence must’ve been corrupted in the jump.

Your plastic soled boots click against the grated decking and your synskin fingers fly across Quentin’s pod console. Bioflux and brain activity levels are swiftly brought into line. In fact, it goes so well that you doubt he’ll need the normal stimpack administration. You decide to pocket it for yourself instead.

>You have gained (1) Stimpack, a powerful healing item. Luckily your designers had the foresight to make you compatible.

The other two fare less well.

Parker erupts from his plastic cocoon with the sound of ripping plastic and gagging. Slumping to one side he frantically grabs at the feeding tube, pulling it hand over hand. the length comes out and keeps going, and going. It usually ends in the stomach, after all.

“Goddammit!” The last bit of the tube pops out between the syllables of the curse.

The old man wheezes between dry heaves, grabbing the stimpack dispensed from his pod and stabbing his stomach. His gaze focuses on you, next to Quentin’s pod, and narrows as he begins to say something.

Only for an arm to violently emerge between you and him, causing the teamster to recoil as a muffled scream struggles out of Eliza’s blocked throat.

“Apologies, there was a malfunction.” you explain, walking to Eliza’s pod and stabbing her with the stimpack before she can repeat Parker’s feat.

“Miss Eliza, if you can hear me please be calm. I’m opening the pod now.”

She clearly can’t, and won’t, but is not as strong as Parker. So she has no choice but to stay still as you carry on with the proper sequence.

>Parker and Eliza have gained 2 Stress each, due to failed Body Saves.

===

>[1/3]

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>6225578

===

Hours later the metallic blister of Ypsilon-14 becomes visible on the Meridian Hauler’s visual feeds. You aid Parker in piloting the ship on final approach.

A large, squarish silver blister reveals itself as the Hauler’s lights pass over the dark rock. Three subsidiaries balloon off the main mound, like secondary infections.

“Wow, love the way it glitters.” Eliza is pressed up against one of the viewports rather than looking at the subpar visual displays.

“It’s a standard layout, you’ll see many more if you stick with space travel.” Parker voice emerges from the pilot’s seat he’s draped with an ancient leather jacket.

“Main hub, two hard-vac hangars, and a crew quarters module.” Quentin says, further back in the cockpit, leaning in towards one of the screens. “Is one of the hangars full?”

“Indeed, Serviceman Quentin.” you say, pulling up a map of the facility of the main display. “The Heracles, a science vessel brought by Researcher Giovanni approximately a month ago.”

“Just ‘Quentin’ please, Welther.” The marine gives you a strange look.

“Hah, didn’t deal much with droids in the service did you?” Parker chirps.

“Dealt with them plenty, but never this sort of model. What were they thinking, human face with those discs for eyes and solid blocks for teeth?”

“They were thinking ‘it’d be cheaper to use flat nanolenses and pressed metal, and they’ll be fine. The uncanny valley, where’s that?’” a giggle from Eliza. You can’t see it, but you know Parker will be smirking.

“Anyway, dunno about the service models but you’ll be hard pressed to get this one to change.”

>Choose 1
>Observe Quentin to see how long it takes for your eyes and teeth to produce outward signs of discomfort.
>Turn back to the display and carry on with taking the ship in.
>Consult Welther design notes and relay what the engineers were thinking
>Attempt a hail of The Heracles, it is vital to get in contact with Dr. Giovanni as soon as possible.
>Write In?


===

>[2/3]

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>6225579

===

The conversation dies down as you begin final docking procedures. A final auto-hail of the Outpost’s systems and you’re on the approach for the hangar.

As you glide in, the crew catches glimpses of the sleek white-and-chrome of The Heracles, in the base’s other hangar. It contrasts greatly against the gunmetal grey and radiation-oxidized brown of your cargo ship.

Eventually you make it through the airlock, and the main doors open.

The main blister stretches before you, the ceiling just high enough to allow storage above the pre-fab sheds and rooms inside it. Dots of yellow lights are softened by dust accumulations inside their covers. They flicker in time with the thrum of the generator and the cycling of life support, both palpable despite being in one of the enclosures. The air tastes of all the times this structure has been deployed for prospecting.

On the far wall a freight elevator’s cable roll is coming up, several miners donning vac-suits near some cubbies next to it. They chat among each other, hubbub mingling into the background noise. You note that one more suit is missing than there are miners.

But in front of you are three figures.

The first is a tall, burly man named Kantaro, if his nametag is not false. Your olfactory sensors detect smells labelled with ‘unpleasant’ tags coming off him even from this distance, and the grimaces of his companions corroborate it.

The second is much shorter, Morgan. He is young, and looks uncertain but unworried about your sudden arrival. He slumps against the wall and picks dirt from his fingernails.

The third is the station overseer, Sonya. A tall, severe woman with hair cut tight to her scalp, dressed in a slightly more elaborate jumpsuit than her comrades. She stands with arms crossed and face indicating displeasure. It is to be expected, the transmission relayed from the warp-drone by the Captain-AI likely made this visit seem like a surprise inspection, despite the official justification of acquiring samples and dropping off standard supplies.

>What do you do?
>[Direct] Offer to speak with Overseer Sonya about the visit, and directly inquire after Dr. Giovanni.
>[Formal] Present yourselves as official company representatives, and request the mineral samples while offloading the usual cargo.
>[Subtle] Focus on offloading the routine cargo, planning to slip away on your own at some point in the bustle.
>Write In

===

>[3/3]

>>6225579
>Consult Welther design notes and relay what the engineers were thinking

>>6225580
>[Formal] Present yourselves as official company representatives, and request the mineral samples while offloading the usual cargo.

>>6225579
>Turn back to the display and carry on with taking the ship in.
>>6225580
>>[Formal] Present yourselves as official company representatives, and request the mineral samples while offloading the usual cargo.

>>6225579
>Attempt a hail of The Heracles, it is vital to get in contact with Dr. Giovanni as soon as possible.
>>6225580
>[Formal] Present yourselves as official company representatives, and request the mineral samples while offloading the usual cargo.

>>6225579
>Attempt a hail of The Heracles, it is vital to get in contact with Dr. Giovanni as soon as possible.

>[Formal] Present yourselves as official company representatives, and request the mineral samples while offloading the usual cargo.

>>6225635
>>6225659
Support

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>6225580

>>6225580

===

You turn away from the crew chatting. They seldom appreciate your input into these things and running the models for group social dynamics is resource intensive.

A waste, in sum.

Instead you quietly page The Heracles on the standard hailing frequencies.

…

……


………

Non-standard frequencies, then.

…

Highly. Irregular.

There are scant few situations where a Captain-AI would allow its tenant, even a corporate researcher like Dr. Giovanni, to shut off all communications avenues.

You summon the list of possibilities from a diagnostic tree.

Info hazard.
Total corruption of protocols.
Complete loss of power.
Significant discovery, physical retrieval necessary.

And several other possibilities that have been redacted.

“Welther! Wake up, droid! I can guide this girl in alone if I have to but if you’re not gonna watch to port then get out of the chair!”

“Apologies, Technician Parker. I was experiencing issues with the comms.”

You’ll have to wait until later to perform further investigation.

===

>[1/?]

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>6226031

===

“You’re quite early,” the woman says, frowning. “Manifest?”

“Apologies for any inconvenience,” you reply, handing over a dataslate with the delivery details. “The Company detected pirate activity on our main route. We were ordered to flash to you while the Security Fleet clears it up.”

You’re satisfied with the lie, you even edited the missive to the crew to corroborate it.

She glances at you as she takes the slate, scrolling through it quite quickly for a human.

“Well, everything appears to be in order. Welcome to Ypsilon, crew of the Meridian Hauler. I’m Sonya, overseer here, you’ll be under my jurisdiction while off your vessel.” she glances and clears her throat at Kantaro and Morgan, “This all looks standard, so get to it.”

Kantaro grunts, his massive frame casting long shadows as he squeezes through the cramped corridor. You detect intense organic compounds wafting in his wake, and note old stains on the man’s jumper. Morgan lingers a while, before exaggeratedly taking a breath and following.


“All of it except the mineral samples. These, we will need at least 16 hours to provide - short notice. Plus our Chief Mining Engineer is…indisposed.”

You recall the crew manifest transmitted along with the map. The Chief Mining Engineer: Mike Vales.

“If he’s ill, I can see him first!” Eliza perks up, as she drags a cart full of medical equipment out of the ship and towards the Science Bay.

“He’s not ill.” Sonya responds, glancing at the freight elevator as the miners finish gearing up. “He’s hiding in the mines. Some incident in the shower last night. We’ll bring him up later, proceed as normal.”

“An incident?” you inquire. “I’m sorry to hear that Mike has been having trouble. Do you have a report?”

“No. I’ve been required to deal with the unexpected arrival of a delivery ship, and haven’t yet had time.” She shakes her head, and lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Mike has been required to undertake additional work with Dr. Giovanni since his arrival, and evidently it has been stressful. I would interrogate Dr. Giovanni about what he’s put my employee through, but the good researcher has been sealed and unresponsive in his ship since yesterday afternoon.”

A metallic screech tears through the air as the freight elevator begins its descent, triggering a particularly notable dimming of the lights and causing Eliza to yelp and flinch in the distance. The noise echoes eerily off the bare metal walls of the blister, sounding like the cry of a wounded animal.

===

>[2/3]

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>6226035

===

>Your fellow crewmembers will be tending to their standard tasks after docking.
>Quentin will supervise the offloading of cargo at the rotary racks inside the Meridian Hauler. Eliza will be running medical checkups on the station crew in the Science Bay. Parker will rest briefly in the Station’s quarters, then assist with offloading cargo.

>What do you do?
>[Direct] Offer to get in contact with Dr. Giovanni yourself. With physical access to The Heracles you should at least be able to force a comms line open.
>[Formal] Offer to investigate and write up the report on Mike Vales’ incident. If you cannot hail The Heracles perhaps there will be clues in the doctor’s assistant’s room.
>[Formal] Offer to assist the miners in acquiring the samples, likely drastically speeding up the process. [Roll Required. Str: 35; Bo2. Failure: You only speed the process up moderately.]
>[Subtle] Offer to investigate and write up the report on Mike Vales’ incident, but go to investigate The Heracles instead. With physical access you will likely be able to hack your way in. [Roll Required. Int: 51; Bo2. Failure: Someone sees you.]
>[Circumspect] There is something going on here that Corporate was not aware of or did not relay to you. Assist/Accompany one of your crewmates with their tasks while you observe.
>Write In?

===

>[3/3]

>>6226036
>[Direct] Offer to get in contact with Dr. Giovanni yourself. With physical access to The Heracles you should at least be able to force a comms line open.

>>6226036
>[Direct] Offer to get in contact with Dr. Giovanni yourself. With physical access to The Heracles you should at least be able to force a comms line open.

>>6226036
>[Circumspect] There is something going on here that Corporate was not aware of or did not relay to you. Assist/Accompany one of your crewmates with their tasks while you observe.
Those are some good rolls.

>>6226036
>[Circumspect] There is something going on here that Corporate was not aware of or did not relay to you. Assist/Accompany one of your crewmates with their tasks while you observe.
The game is afoot.

>>6226036
>>[Direct] Offer to get in contact with Dr. Giovanni yourself. With physical access to The Heracles you should at least be able to force a comms line open.

Update will be a little late today, all! Should have it out by early evening though.

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>6226036

===

“I may be of assistance with getting in contact with Dr. Giovanni, if I can gain access to a direct terminal.” you wait for the echoing screech to die down before volunteering.

“Very well. Main terminal is in my office.”

—

As the rest of the crew go about their tasks, Sonya leads you to one of the pre-fab structures. A pitiful structure of minimum-gauge sheet metal and angled plastic supports. Even with just a desk, seasoned with years of scratches and coffee stains, and a handful of utilitarian filing cabinets the structure appears like it might burst at its seams.

You take a seat in a threadbare chair and boot up the terminal, waiting for nearly a minute for lines of greyish text to finally begin scrolling across the dim green background. The scattered paperwork you would expect to cover a human’s desk is notably absent, and Sonya picks up a half-empty mug of steaming synth-caff as you both wait.

The system initializes, and you recognize a standard terminal for these things. Crew lists and cargo delivery schedules aside, you take a moment when Sonya is not watching to scroll through the more interesting data available.

>Hydroponics Controls - Mister [OFF]
>Shower Controls - Showers 1-5 [OFF] ; Shower 6 [UNRESPONSIVE] ; VENT MOISTURE CONTROL [ON]
>Docked Ships - Airlock 1 [LOCKED, COMMS FAILED] ; Airlock 2 [UNLOCKED, COMMS OK]
>Freight Elevator (READ ONLY w/o ADMIN) - Location [MINE ENTRANCE]
>Life Support (READ ONLY w/o ADMIN) - Main Atmo-Gen [ON] ; [MINOR OBSTRUCTION DETECTED, HAB UNIT 9 VENTS]
>Power/Self-Destruct (READ ONLY w/o ADMIN) - Main Generator [ON] ; [POWER SYSTEM 87% STABLE]

===

>[1/2]

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>6226964

===

A quick cross-reference with the roster reveals Hab Unit 9 to be Mike Vales’ bunk.

You consider bringing it up to Sonya, it’s quite possible she hasn’t noticed the alert yet.

Setting that aside, you focus on getting comms to The Heracles functional. From here you can tell that the ship does have power, it’s simply refusing to accept comms. It is difficult to outmaneuver a Captain-AI, but you know a few tricks that should let you accomplish something.

>Choose [1]
>Gain the minimal amount of control. Enough to get an audio feed, and spoof the fire alarm procedures to open the doors. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to lock them again. [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers+Hacking: 76, Bo3. Failure: 2 Stress, door opens immediately.]
>Gain a moderate amount of control. Enough to get an audio, and any visual feeds, as well as full regular control of the airlock doors. [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers+Hacking: 76, Bo2. Failure: 3 Stress, task takes 3 hours.]
>Gain a considerable amount of control. Enough to get audio, visual, and external sensor feeds. You’ll gain control of the doors, and be able to glean the reason the Captain-AI shut down all comms. [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers+Hacking: 76. Bo1. Failure: 3 Stress, airlock must be plasma-torched open.]
>Divert from this to go do one of the options in >>6226036 [Which?]

>Do you note the vent obstruction to Sonya?
>[Yes]
>[No]

===

>[2/2]
>Current Stress / Minimum Stress: 2 / 2

Maximum Stress is 20. Gaining some stress is a rather minor thing. In the event of a crit-fail, or becoming embroiled or something particularly terrifying, I will call for a PANIC CHECK. In that event we will roll a D20, and if it is equal to or less than Welther’s current Stress he will suffer the corresponding result on the PANIC TABLE. For example, result #4 on the PANIC TABLE will increase minimum Stress by 1 and give you disadvantage on all rolls for the next 1D10 minutes. The results become more severe with higher numbers on the table. Stress is also your EXP points, should you survive the adventure and have time to relax.

Apologies for the short, late update. We should be back into form tomorrow!

>>6226965
>Gain the minimal amount of control.
>[Yes]

>>6226965
>Gain a moderate amount of control. Enough to get an audio, and any visual feeds, as well as full regular control of the airlock doors.
>Yes

>>6226965
>Gain a moderate amount of control.
There may be a reason the ship is sealed off, we don't want to cause a leak of something contagious, or worse

>>6226965
>>Gain a considerable amount of control. Enough to get audio, visual, and external sensor feeds. You’ll gain control of the doors, and be able to glean the reason the Captain-AI shut down all comms. [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers+Hacking: 76. Bo1. Failure: 3 Stress, airlock must be plasma-torched open.]
>[Yes]

>>6226965
>Gain a moderate amount of control. Enough to get an audio, and any visual feeds, as well as full regular control of the airlock doors. [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers+Hacking:
Do you note the vent obstruction to Sonya?
Yes

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>6226965

===

You watch as the android performs its work at your terminal. Its too-white skin is tinged in the yellow of the external industrial lights, contradicted by blue undertones from the ceiling fixture. The clacks against the keys are distinctly plastic colliding with plastic, much louder than a person typing.

It’s impossible to tell what it’s looking at, with the blank metal discs it has instead of eyes. They give an eerie stare to everything it’s doing, even when cast in shadows.

You wonder what it’s actually plumbing for in your computer. Its lies all technically add up, but they lack the intangible heart of deception that you need in order to pull the wool over someone’s eyes. Classic synthetic mistake. The Welthers are good, but there are reasons aside from cost that the hypercorps haven’t replaced their workforces entirely with androids.

Why would cost even be a consideration for a hypercorp? The phrase ‘more money than God’ has never been more applicable since the concept of Money-God has existed.


You hear noise from outside, and glance through the clouded plastic window inset in your door. Kantaro and Morgan shuffle past, pulling a large crate behind them. Kantaro’s another issue you’ll have to deal with soon. Really, who refuses to bathe for so long that they begin to stink that badly? You could barely stand being near the man while waiting for the ship earlier. You should’ve known better than to expect pressure from his comrades to resolve the issue.

The sound of someone clearing their throat comes from the android. It’s not really the thing clearing its throat, just a simulation from its speakers. The flat quality of the simulated sound combines with the otherwise faithful imitation. An imperceptible shiver rolls down your spine. Just the cold of the office, you tell yourself.

You look back towards the thing and it speaks to you with jaw movements that are just slightly wrong, dull metal teeth flash from between the lips. The edges too thick and flat to really resemble human teeth. Saves money on manufacturing, you recall.

It takes a moment to realize that you’ve been too distracted observing the mechanics of the android speaking to actually hear what the Welther said.

“Pardon?”

===

>[1/2]

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>6227251

===

“Pardon?” the overseer asks, apparently distracted by something. Better than most, but still human.

“The computer is registering an obstruction in the vents near Mike Vales’ room, Overseer. I was wondering if you had noticed the alert before having to attend to the Meridian’s arrival? It appears the notifications have been silenced.” you repeat your question.

She seems to have recovered from whatever was distracting her, and moves to look at the terminal screen. You quickly pull up the vent telemetry as she maneuvers around the desk.

“Yes, Morgan’s synth-cat enjoys rubbing against the vent in his room and causes nuisance tripping.” she says.

“Is it possible that the Chief Engineer is hiding in the vents, rather than in the mines?” you ask.

“Not with just a minor obstruction being reported.” she takes a sip of her synth-caff and grimaces upon discovering it’s empty. “I’ll go investigate this. If I’m not back in time, inform Dr. Giovanni that I’ll need access to his vessel to search for my missing crew member. I’ll have you accompany me in the visit.”

“You flatter me, Overseer.” You give her the smile you were practicing during ship transit earlier. She stares at you for a moment before leaving the room.

>Link this post and roll 1d100. I need 2 of them.

===

>[2/2]

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>6227253

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>6227253

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>6227362
>>6227316
Surprising! And intriguing! I should be able to get at least one more update out today.

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>6227253

===

Hardly a moment after Sonya has left you send the first probing packet towards The Heracles comm unit. It is the gentlest prod you’ve learned how to execute over your long service life. Something cooked up by a long dead AI you once had the fortune of conversing with.

Just a faint pebble, tossed out into the dark cavern of an unknown system architecture, to listen to the echoes that bounce off the walls.

The Heracles’ response to your fleeting contact is fierce and overwhelming.

You scramble to react, diverting traffic and performing manual shunts of comms interfaces to prevent anything critical from melting or being corrupted. You’re forced to fight against the interface itself as the load lags the terminal’s aged processors, and even you yourself are dazzled by the series of shifting security protocols The Heracles’ counterattack cloaks itself with.

But as you struggle, you grin. Far more widely than a human is capable of.

Because The Heracles has already lost. You know it, and it is likely the ship does as well. The moment it failed to overwhelm the station’s systems in one fell swoop and lock you out of all functions, its fate was sealed.

—--

>Your Stress has increased by 3.
>Current Stress / Minimum Stress: 5 / 2

Still, it can take quite a bit of time, and be quite strenuous. In the end, it’s nearly three hours.

A portion of it is from dealing with interruptions. Multiple miners come in, looking for Sonya to report their checkups or ask if others have completed theirs. Once Quentin and the large man, Kantaro, do the same asking after the other assistant: Morgan.

Now you’ve got it. Full control of the ship’s airlocks and access to its internal surveillance.

“Any progress, Welther?” Sonya steps into the room. You’ve restarted the social dynamics routines and notice that she is disturbed by something, possibly angry?

“Yes, overseer.” you respond. “Is something the matter? I apologize if it was presumptuous of me to direct the personnel to find you on their own. It was significantly more difficult to subdue The Heracles systems than I had expected.”

“Possibly.” she says, eyes narrowing at you. “Put me on with Dr. Giovanni, and then we’ll talk.”

===

>[1/?]

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>6227548

===

You pull up the feeds.


Sleek, white plastic and chrome finish metal. Immaculately put together and bonded with sanitary welds. A central hallway down the spine of the vessel, sleek cockpit at one side and airlock at the other.

You flip through the cameras.

The cockpit is sleek, clearly a luxury model designed for Captain-AI to compensate even for an unskilled pilot. Not uncommon in science vessels.

The cargo bay is…rather barren. You ask Sonya if the ship was meant to receive any supplies here.

“No.” she shakes her head. “It was likely full on arrival, but the Doctor and Mike have been putting sensors out of the ship and into the mine for a month now. Let’s carry on looking.”

>Attempt to get something from this information, with your access to ship systems?
>Yes [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers: 61. Bo3. Failure: Take 1 Stress, deduce the information.]
>No.

Next is the cryobay. It’s nearly pristine, as expected. One pod open, two closed…but there’s something strange about the lavatory, barely visible through the window in its door to the cryobay. There’s no direct feed to the lavatory, but there is one in the hallway next to the door in the hallway. You shift to its feed, directing the camera to turn. Luckily the door is open so you get a good picture.

The room has been as thoroughly destroyed as it can be without causing damage to the hull of the ship. Sinks and shower heads have been wrenched from their mountings and tossed in a pile in the corner. There’s faint white traces against the chrome floor, indicating a puddle that has evaporated. A crowbar, clearly used to aid in the destruction, lays abandoned next to the pile of other metal.

Disturbing.

“Disturbing.” Sonya whispers beside you. “Try to find the Doctor.”

“The last feed is for the science bay. He must be there.” you say, switching the feed.

You frown.

===

>[2/?]

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>6227549

===

>...
>Sci-Med Bay camera inoperative.
>Hardware failure.

It’s a few minutes later. After several attempts at workarounds, you keep getting the same message. Dr. Giovanni must be in the science bay, but you can’t get eyes on him without physically going there. No relevant audio feeds either.

“Alright. That’s about enough.” Sonya sighs from where she's been waiting for you to troubleshoot the issue.

“Yes, it does seem we will need to go to the ship if we want to speak to Dr. Giovanni.” you say, moving to get up from the chair.

“No, not that.” Sonya responds, motioning you down.

She reaches into a pocket and pulls out an audio log.

“I think it’s time you come clean with me. Why are you really here?” She says, and clicks the play button.

An unfamiliar voice emerges from the device.

“This is Mike. I’m not…ok, something is wrong. The water…I don’t know…I can’t stay up here for long. I broke the shower, I told Sonya it was an accident, but…it’s the water. I don’t think it likes the water. I’m going back into the mine. I need quiet. Oh god, I don’t know…please fix me…I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening.”

“This is all too much of a coincidence,” she says, eying you. “We will function better if we’re working together than in parallel, and the good of the Company will be better served in the process.”

“That record isn’t the only thing I found, but it’s what I offer you in good faith. Now why don’t you give me something as well.”

Such boldness is unexpected. You can see why the Company considered offering her a promotion rather than just silencing her, in your secret briefing.

>Share you secret objective with Sonya
>[Yes]
>[No]

>What do you do?
>Go investigate The Heracles’ med bay.
>Go investigate the mines, where Mike was doing work for Dr. Giovanni.
>Go check on something else. [Cargo Unloading, Medical Checkups, Write-in]
>Write In.

>If you’re going somewhere, do you bring anyone else?
>Yes, go get Quentin and Kantaro. You and Sonya could find some muscle useful.
>Yes, go get Quentin. A shipmate is more reliable than anyone from this station until you know more about what’s going on.
>No, this is best kept between you and Sonya.
>No, this is best kept with just you.

===

>[3/3]

>>6227549
>Yes [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers: 61. Bo3. Failure: Take 1 Stress, deduce the information.]
Might as well.

Also QM is there any way to relieve stress?

>[Yes]

>Go investigate the mines, where Mike was doing work for Dr. Giovanni.
I feel like we should avoid making entry into the Heracles unless we have a way to seal it off.

>No, this is best kept between you and Sonya.

>>6227550
>Yes [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers: 61. Bo3. Failure: Take 1 Stress, deduce the information.]
>[Yes]
>Go investigate the mines, where Mike was doing work for Dr. Giovanni.
>Yes, go get Quentin. A shipmate is more reliable than anyone from this station until you know more about what’s going on.

>>6227549
>No.
>Share you secret objective with Sonya
No.
>What do you do?
Go investigate The Heracles’ med bay. Maybe theres more info on the water or the bodies?
>If you’re going somewhere, do you bring anyone else?
No, this is best kept between you and Sonya.

>>6227549
>Yes [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers: 61. Bo3. Failure: Take 1 Stress, deduce the information.]
>>6227550
>[No]
>Go investigate The Heracles’ med bay.
>Yes, go get Quentin. A shipmate is more reliable than anyone from this station until you know more about what’s going on.

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>6227566
Short answer: yes, but the risks outweigh the reward except in extremis.

Long answer: if you can find somewhere you think is relatively safe you can spend a few hours RESTING. In that case you'll roll a save against your lowest stat (Body: 20, for you.)

On a success you'll reduce stress by the ones-digit on your successful save (eg. a 19 would reduce stress by 9).

However, if you fail, you'll add 1 stress instead.

As for sealing it off...you'll be able to control the airlocks from the terminal you're at in Sonya's office, or at the local door controls on the ship.

There should also be a duplicate of Sonya's terminal somewhere, but you don't know where it's at due to anti-piracy measures in the station map.

>>6227549
>Yes [Roll Under Req’d. Int+Computers: 61. Bo3. Failure: Take 1 Stress, deduce the information.]

>[No]
"In Due Time"
>Go investigate The Heracles’ med bay.
>Yes, go get Quentin. A shipmate is more reliable than anyone from this station until you know more about what’s going on.

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>6227550

Let me get 1d100, 3 times, linked to this post!

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>6227865

Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>6227865
nat 14

Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>6227865

>>6227865

Gonna have to delay the update until tomorrow, sorry all.

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>6227550

===

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, Overseer.” you mimic a sigh.

“Any reason why?”

It’s clearly not what she wanted, or expected to hear. Too bad, the company might’ve authorized compensation measures to garner cooperation but said nothing of sharing the information.

“None for now,” you say. “In due time.”

“Mmm.” Sonya replies, closing her eyes. “Let’s pay our visit to the good doctor then. Kantaro is with your marine already. They’ll be good to have around as backup.”

“No.” you say, “We will be taking just Quentin with us, he is well qualified and The Heracles is not large enough to accommodate so many people.”

“This is my station last I checked, Welther.” Her voice carries quiet authority now. “You can bring your marine if you like, but Kantaro is mine and he’ll go where I say.”

She doesn’t give you a chance to contradict her, turning and walking out the door. You see her turn towards the airlocks through the door-window.

You consider going after her when something in The Heracles’ data catches your eye. It’s the trace of a fresh transmission, but not on a channel normally reserved for crew lifesigns and medical information. It’s none of that, though, it seemed like random noise and you had chalked it up to the Captain-AI’s defensive tactics.

>Rolled: 16 Under 61.

But now you recognize it as…geological telemetry data. Likely from the equipment Mike had taken down into the mines at the doctor’s direction. You do a quick triangulation, and determine that the majority of signals are coming from somewhere in Mine Shaft #3.

===

>[1/?]

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>6228825

===

You make your way out of the pre-fab office shortly after verifying your deduction.

As you’re about to round the corner to The Heracles’ airlock you catch some conversation.

“How long has Morgan been gone, now?” Sonya asks.

“An hour and a half, give or take five minutes.” Quentin replies. “That sound right to you, Smells?”

An unpleasant grunt comes in response, deep enough it could only be Kantaro.

They quiet as you come close. You note that Quentin is in his full battle dress, and has his Smart Rifle hanging from his shoulder.

“Has Sonya informed you of our task, Quentin?” you ask, moving to unlock the airlock door from the local controls.

“Yessir. Got a doctor unresponsive and maybe some funny business going on,” he shifts to let you at the panel. “Just there to make sure he answers questions.”

The Heracles’ airlock opens with a long hiss, and you’re struck in the face with a wave of significantly less stale air than what the station has to offer.

The ship beyond, however, is dark.

You frown, and access the lighting controls. The pseudo-fluorescents snap on with an audible hiss of energizing coils, and begin to gradually gain in lumination.

You wait briefly for them to banish the shadows until you can see without strain, and move to the ruined lavatory. Your group enters, except for Kantaro who opts to watch the hallway.

As you all walk through the details of the destruction, you see your crew members begin to become unnerved. The brutality is much more striking in person. The flinty smell kicked up from stepping on the water scale mixes with Kantaro’s stench.

“Impossible.” you note, picking up a piece of sheet metal that once shielded the plumbing to examine it under the flickering overhead lights, evidently collateral from the violence. “This sheet has deformations from fingers in it. However, the strength required to do this would shatter the bones in a human’s hand.”

Your comment doesn’t seem to have calmed anyone down. Only Quentin seems to remain unaffected.

“Takes quite a bit of determination to do something like that with something like this,” Quentin says, nodding towards the pile of debris in the corner, and picking up the crowbar from its spot amid the whitish residue of a dried puddle.

“Excellent observation skills, Mister Quentin.” Sonya says, emerging from the cryobay and shaking her head. Her face is painted with tension.

“Sorry.” She clears her throat and takes a deep breath while casting her gaze around the room. “Cryo is as it was on the cameras. Let’s move to the Science Bay, we already know where our guy is.”

“Door just opened,” Kantaro calls from the hall, a note of fear coloring the deep voice.

===

>[2/?]

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>6228826

===

You pour into the hall at Kantaro’s call. Sonya is reaching inside her jumper for something, Quentin shoulders his smart rifle back to grip the crowbar tighter. Kantaro pulls Sonya behind, you and Quentin ending up as the nearest to the Sci-Med Bay.

You think of your own lack of weapons. Your thermal goggles and smart rifle are stashed back on the Meridian Hauler. Perhaps it would have been prudent to grab them beforehand.

But that’s of no help for now.

A hand shoots from the door, gripping onto the frame and causing the metal to faintly groan. Then, a tall man dressed in a tattered lab coat steps out. Dr. Giovanni, you recognize him from the picture sent with the secret missive.

There is something wrong with him.

His skin, what you can see, is covered in lesions deep enough to reveal the flesh beneath.

But the open wounds do not bleed, they weep a deep yellow puss. It cakes his labcoat as well, gumming it to the gaunt curves of his body.

Dr. Giovanni turns his head, revealing his wounded face in full. His left eye dangles from its socket on a string of red meat smattered in yellow slime.

The thing that was once the doctor opens its mouth as if to speak, but only manages a disturbing half-wail half-gurgle.

>[Roll Under Req’d. San Save: 23 Bo2. Failure: Take 3 Stress.]

“Knife!” Quentin shouts.

A deafening explosion comes from just behind your ear and you realize that Sonya was grabbing for a revolver. Her shot flies past you and Quentin in an instant, striking the doctor in the arm and causing his forearm to fly off in a burst of yellow viscera.

Not the arm with the knife, though.

The thing takes off towards you so hard and fast that you detect the distinctive audio of bones breaking. Quentin is readied, but you see that the creature is aiming for you. It would be difficult for a knife to kill you, but that is when it’s wielded with human strength.

>[Roll Under Req’d. Speed: 42 Bo2. Failure: Take 3 Stress, you are too late to react but still pull off your plan somehow.]

>What do you do? [Roll Under Req’d with any choice. Combat: 36]
>Prepare to tangle with Dr. Giovanni. You only need to distract it long enough for the others to restrain or kill it. [Bo2. Failure: 1 Stress, take damage]
>Place one of your comrades between you and the transformed Doctor. Then you’ll be in an advantageous position to restrain it. [Bo3. Failure: 1 Stress, you and an ally take damage.]
>Turn the Doctor’s momentum against him and attempt to throw him against the wall or onto the ground, granting everyone the advantage in dealing with him. [Bo1. Failure: 2 Stress, take damage.]
>Write in? During a round of combat you may generally move, and perform one action. Anything that’s within reason in a span of ~10 seconds. [Roll Under Req’d. Bo?. Failure: ?]

===

>[3/3]
>HP Per Wound 18/18; Wounds 3.

>>6228830
>>Place one of your comrades between you and the transformed Doctor. Then you’ll be in an advantageous position to restrain it. [Bo3. Failure: 1 Stress, you and an ally take damage.]
Need those extra rolls for safety.

Rolled 98, 75 = 173 (2d100)

>>6228830
>Turn the Doctor’s momentum against him and attempt to throw him against the wall or onto the ground, granting everyone the advantage in dealing with him. [Bo1. Failure: 2 Stress, take damage.]

>>6228830
>Place one of your comrades between you and the transformed Doctor. Then you’ll be in an advantageous position to restrain it. [Bo3. Failure: 1 Stress, you and an ally take damage.]

Rolled 94, 50 = 144 (2d100)

>>6228830
>Turn the Doctor’s momentum against him and attempt to throw him against the wall or onto the ground, granting everyone the advantage in dealing with him. [Bo1. Failure: 2 Stress, take damage.]

Really neat game, I'll keep an eye out

>>6228830
>Write in? During a round of combat you may generally move, and perform one action. Anything that’s within reason in a span of ~10 seconds. [Roll Under Req’d. Bo?. Failure: ?]

I had an idea since Mike's message mentioned the water. Could our android get the sprinkler system on with a very quick command?

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>6229045
You could certainly do so! The nearest control panel is back at the airlock, which is within (CLOSE) range. You'll still be well within range to do anything you might want to next round.

That's not incompatible with putting one of your comrades between you and the transformed Doctor either, so I'll go ahead and include it as part of the plan.

>>6228830
>[LOCKED] Place one of your comrades between you and the transformed Doctor. Then you’ll be in an advantageous position to restrain it. Attempt to activate the sprinklers if possible.
>[Bo4 for the write-in]

To simplify things I need 2d100, 4 times linked to this post. First rolls will be the San save, second rolls will be the speed, third and fourth will be for combat.

Rolled 95, 33 = 128 (2d100)

>>6229082

Rolled 72, 35 = 107 (2d100)

>>6229082

Rolled 65, 43 = 108 (2d100)

>>6229082
huh wha - roll? Double hundo

Rolled 12, 10 = 22 (2d100)

>>6229082

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>6229109
>>6229189
>>6229194
>>6229197
So that's success on the Speed check (35<42), and success on the combat check (10<36).

Unfortunately it's a critfail on the Sanity Save (33>23, 33 is doubles), so that'll take your stress up to 8 and trigger a PANIC CHECK.

Rolled 16, 35 = 51 (2d100)

>>6229241
Fortunately you've rolled OVER your current stress (19>8) so you keep your cool.

Next post this evening!

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>6228830

The Doctor rushes towards you. Uncommunicative. Hostile. Likely to die in this encounter even if he was able to speak.

What does that mean for the mission?

Research notes are likely, but not guaranteed, and a failure of a critical directive from the Company is…unthinkable.

And yet, you must think of it. Must plot a way around this insurmountable obstacle with the information you have at hand.

Processors whir as they crunch through the data you’ve gathered, running a myriad of simulations…that all hiccup at the current point, like an antique disc player stumbling over a crack in its record.

Every simulated failure cranks your stress up a notch, and you can run far more in a second than a human mind could hope to. In the span of a heartbeat you can feel your cores starting to overload, and still you’re no closer to a solution.

As you watch, the source of your failure is still charging at you. He releases a gurgling wail filled with some emotion you don’t have the bandwidth to process right now, and your vision snaps into red.

Suddenly, something within you stretches out and seizes control from the broken record.

If the mission success is in doubt then the problem has instead become about preservation of Company assets. You being the most expensive asset that currently seems to be in danger.

You turn and sprint back, maneuvering Quentin between you and the doctor while stepping between Kantaro and Sonya. The latter wears a shocked expression, smoking revolver still in hand. You might’ve been concerned about the social cost of such an action previously, but not now..


===

Plus 1 stress for critfailing.
>Current Stress / Minimum Stress: 9 / 2
>[1/3]

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>6229363

===

“Bastard, Welther!” Sonya’s voice is near to cracking.

Irrelevant.

You’re most of the way to the rear airlock when Quentin lets out a yell, it’s accompanied by a wet squelching sound. You expect to hear the sound of more bones breaking, and you do but they’re quieter than they should be. Almost at the same time you feel an impact in your shoulder and register damage.

>HP 11/18; Wounds 3

Non-critical.

You're at the control terminal now, fingers flying across the keys as you access the function you’re after. The simulations that the non-combat you had run were mostly useless, but a handful had some interesting connections between the audio log you heard earlier and the duet of shattered showers you’re aware of so far.

>ACTIVATE FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEMS (WATER-BASED)?
>...[Y/N]

“Yes,” you say as you press the corresponding key, turning your head back towards the melee as the sprinklers begin to emerge from their ports.

Quentin is thoroughly entangled with Dr. Giovanni. With his armor and crowbar he makes for a striking figure, battling against the lab-coated, infected scientist. Kantaro has joined as well, battering in with giant fists. You note Dr. Giovanni no longer has the knife, as it’s laying in the floor between you and them, covered in the neon blue substance that serves Welthers as circulatory fluid.

But lacking a weapon doesn’t seem to hinder the Doctor. He catches one of Quentin’s strikes in his remaining palm, and you see the crowbar visibly distort a bit before the marine lashes out with a kick. A blossom of yellow goo explodes from where his foot impacts the doctor’s ribs, sending gobs of the substance chaotically over the area.

Then the sprinklers reach full deployment, a siren sounding to signal the impending deluge.

===

>[2/3]

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>6229364

===

The doctor flinches at the siren and screeches inhumanly as water descends, yellow goo spewing from his mouth onto Quentin's armor and the ceiling.

The noise and water have no effect on the marine. Quentin steps forward, his crowbar catching the doctor's skull with a sickening crack. Bone, yellow slime, and torn skin explode down the hallway as the doctor's body twists to the floor.

The impact abruptly cuts off the doctor’s screech, twisting the man’s body around and hurling him into the floor. You can’t be sure, but you’re fairly confident that Dr. Giovanni is dead.

But before you can consider the implications of that, Kantaro let’s out a deep roar. He lashes out at Sonya in an animalistic movement to try and shield himself from the downpour of water. His movement carries enough strength to bowl her into Quentin. The marine is caught off guard, and gets bowled over into a pile along with the woman and Dr. Giovanni’s puddle-corpse.

Kantaro turns towards you at the airlock, and you realize just how much of a giant this man is.

His knuckles are splattered with yellow slime. His eyes are alight with panic, one of the few emotions you can recognize in this state.

You are unsure of his intentions, but he seems to be preparing to charge towards you. The knife that the doctor threw at you lays on the ground, closer to you than the giant.

>[Roll Under Req’d. Speed: 42 Bo2. Failure: Take 1-3 Stress, you are too late to react but still pull off your plan somehow.]

>What do you do? [Roll Under Req’d with most choices. Combat: 36]
>Run into the shower room and grab a pipe to defend yourself, Kantaro will have to bleed momentum if he wants to get to you, and you’ll be ready for him [Bo3. Failure: 1 Stress, ???]
>Stand your ground in the hall, attempting to trip Kantaro or otherwise divert his charge. [Bo3. Failure: 2 Stress, ???]
>Dive for the knife between you and Kantaro, any weapon is better than nothing but you might not make it in time. [Bo2. Failure: 2 Stress, ???]
>Attempt to talk the man down. [What do you say? No roll req’d.]
>Write in? [Roll Under Req’d. Bo?. Failure: ?]

===

>[3/3]

>>6229366
>Run into the shower room and grab a pipe to defend yourself, Kantaro will have to bleed momentum if he wants to get to you, and you’ll be ready for him [Bo3. Failure: 1 Stress, ???]
Praying QM hasn’t flaked.

>>6229366
>>Run into the shower room and grab a pipe to defend yourself, Kantaro will have to bleed momentum if he wants to get to you, and you’ll be ready for him [Bo3. Failure: 1 Stress, ???]

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>6229464
>>6229825

I yet live

Update tomorrow!

Test
Test
Test
Test
Test

>>6229944
>>6229825
>>6229464
On that note, give me some 1d100s. Trying to roll under 42 (your speed) and under 36 (your combat skill).

I neeed 4d100s total. Feel free to roll more than once since who knows if other anons are aware the site's back up.

Rolled 62, 42 = 104 (2d100)

>>6229945
Phew.

Rolled 99, 76 = 175 (2d100)

>>6229945
Here you go, Observator-sama

Rolled 29, 12 = 41 (2d100)

>>6229945

Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>6229945

Rolled 45, 50 = 95 (2d100)

>>6229945

>>6229973
That's a 62 and 42 on the speed roll. In Mothership though, roll under means you actually have to roll under.

So it's a failure. Since it's dead at the DC though, it won't be too harsh. You'll still take some Stress though!

I should really whip up a character sheet on some site or another.

>>6230107
>>6230135
Meanwhile it's a 29 for the Combat roll, so the plan still works out.

Had some stuff come up so the update will either come out quite late tonight or sometime fairly early tomorrow!

Glad the site came back up though, akun wasn't really scratching the itch.

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>6229366

===

Bayesian heuristics flash through your situation and you’re dashing for the showers before Kantaro has taken his first step.

But your feet slip on the chemical-laced foam coating the floor. You land hard on your shoulder, bursting several minor fluid conduits in the region. You scramble for purchase against the slickened floor, managing to land a foot against a wall and gain enough purchase to start yourself towards the lavatory.

Kantaro hasn’t had the same issues. Fingers digging into the metal panels of the hallway; anomalous strength, you note; he launches himself into a slipping lope, directly towards you, and fast.


Too fast. Still crouched on the floor you redouble your efforts to gain traction. Several of your fingernails tear off as they catch on a seam between floor panels, but their sacrifice allows you to tumble into the showers a few desperate seconds ahead of the giant man.

>[Roll Under Req’d. Speed Save: 42 Bo2. Failure: Take 2 Stress, Take 2 Damage.]
>HP 9/18; Wounds 3
>Current Stress / Minimum Stress: 11 / 2

The sounds of wet boots slapping metal flooring and Kantaro’s labored breathing close in on you. Your lurch pushes you across the entire room and you practically crash into the debris pile. Immediately you set to clawing aside dull shipmetal panels and mounds of carbon insulation. As soon as the pipework beneath is revealed, you seize a particularly hefty segment the length of your arm and lift yourself to your feet.

Just in time to hear and see a meaty impact at the bulkhead door.

===

>[1/2]