OOC: Sweet! Questions: • where’s my best escape route / way in / way past? • what should I be on the lookout for? • which enemy is most vulnerable to me? (i.e. what can I do to get Vee out?)
With Stitch's help, you can find an access port not designed as an airlock, but a mechanical release for opening the cargo bay on mega-container 2. That's your best way in.
You know VB well. If she stayed in there, she must have found some good haul and was trying to get it out. Checking the manifest tablet, you find an area marked as classified by something called Weyland-Yutani Corporation. That's probably where she is.
And that's exactly what you should be on the lookout for - more eyes, maybe a sentry gun. The good news, well, you didn't hear any sentry guns go off earlier. Well, it was pretty loud. Maybe you missed it.
Well, then I crack open that door and run off for the section of the ship those crates are supposed to be in. I've got my shotgun out, just in case we do run across any sentry turrets...
It's best to take those things down quickly, yeah? What they do to people isn't pretty.
So you're both walking on the walls, since this ship is still listed to port and all. But luckily this ship's design is function first, lots of big boxes.
You've got your zippo out, flickering light, picking your way over crates and containers that shifting during the crash. This area has no noxious fumes, isn't that nice?
You spot a few things here.
Three eyes, hovering drones, they're near a container that is still locked into place by industrial mooring clamps, so it is basically completely sideways.
An un-moving VB, who either was hit by the "eyes" or the falling debris, is lying not far ahead, but right in the line of fire for the eyes.
Lastly, yes, there's a sentry gun, trained at the entrance of the container, which means its firing arc is mostly out of your range. Also, there's no indicator light on... so maybe it's inactive?
Stitch, you moved too quick, your medic reflexes kicking in. You saw two of those drones, but then the third ranged closer and ZIP-ZIP, you're hit with s-harm (ap) as two darts pop you in the right arm and leg.
s-harm means stun harm, recall. e effect is: if you just stagger around in a concussed daze, cool; if you do anything else you’re acting under fire.
Kiddo, you catch this, it happens right in front of you. What do you do?
Grabbing Stitch was no problem — she's pretty light, actually — and you'd be surprised just how easy it is to fire off a bunch of shots from the hip with an automatic shotgun. Aunt Ruth, if you were still here I'd kiss you. The goal, in case you were wondering, is to waste as many of those things as I can.
OOC: For reference: Auntie Ruth's Boomstick (4-harm close reload area messy) • Take definite hold of it. (Stitch's safety) • Inflict terrible harm. (so 5-harm total before armor)
You grab Stitch by the arm and pull her along to a small pile of industrial walkers that slammed during the crash, now little more than scrap. Popping up to fire at the eyes, you take out all three.
But, your boomstick is now out of ammo.
Stitch,
Kiddo drug you along, and while I'm sure you watched her heroically take out those drones, you also caught a glance at VB, she's still breathing. But there's a pool of blood near her gut.
With the cover fire from Kiddo, you gather your wits and clamber over the wreckage of those power loaders, then dash across the wall-floor to get to little VB. You swear, this girl has to be eighty pounds soaking wet, and she's average height.
As you're lifting the set of clamps that are covering her left arm, that's when you see the huge gash on your left forearm. It must have happened when you went over that wreckage. Lots of blood, not good. (1-Harm AP). But if you want to try and heal VB first, go ahead.
I toss my shotgun back over my shoulder, and draw my pistol — keeping a close eye on that turret, in case it gets any smart ideas.
I catch the pool of blood under VB, and my breathing picks up. Shit... Shit! Focus, Kiddo! Focus! "Can you fix her?" I ask, quickly looking to Stitch, who's... Who's...
... What the frak is she doing? "Well, whatever you're doing, take your time... I've got your back."
What's that like? Is this something you've always been able to do? What's the psychic maelstrom like for you?
What are you saying to VB's mind right now? She can hear you, she's got no idea who you are, of course. She thinks you're one of the gods of the Order, whatever that is. Or maybe, you're Harmony? She loved Harmony so much. Her mother Lost, too. But Harmony, she was special.
The psychic maelstrom looks like the branches of brain wiring, to me. Synapses fire like lightning. I always have to keep moving- the current forces me to keep moving forward, so sometimes it takes longer if I just miss where I meant to go. I've been able to do this as long as I can remember, but it took me a lot of time and practice to know what I was doing.
"Shh. It's ok. I'm a friend." I nudge her brain to start repairing her wound- the scars will be worse this way, but it's better than being dead. "Tell me about Harmony..." I say to distract her.
VB's apprehension melts away, she trusts your assurances. Impulses along the wires connecting the two of you flow like flashes of light.
The first is a beautiful woman, like this:
There is a childlike quality to Harmony, innocence and acceptance and... hope. From the angle of VB's eyes, VB is lying on a bed, looking up at her.
Then another flash of Harmony, she's older, maybe her thirties. VB is sitting up now, but still shorter than her by quite alot. They're talking and she's smiling. There's an ugly bruise on Harmony's arm, but she still appears strong, unbroken.
Again, another impulse, a flash of Harmony, in her forties, still taller than VB, but perhaps that's a color of her self-perception. The bruise is faded, but still yellow and still there. Age is wearing on Harmony, her eyes bright and alert, but the bags under them betray her.
Then another, Harmony the elderly woman, wrinkles crease her face, her beauty has seasoned to a loveliness, her hope still shines through, but her body is ruined.
"Harmony... she was so wonderful. She never gave up on me. She helped me learned to walk again. She taught me to forgive. To love. There will never be anyone like her in the world..." Sadness emanates, but the profound effect this woman had on her gives her strength to survive.
Kiddo,
You feel this odd energy, and you hear the words VB is saying above, she's speaking aloud, the echoes in her own head shared with Stitch. Or perhaps, the other way around.
Then finally, Stitch is pulling back. VB is waking up. The eyes are down, the sentry guns still silent.
The mention of Harmony's name has me a little on edge... In a weird sort of way, you could say Harmony and I grew up together. I lower my pistol a bit, and catch myself listening to VB as she talks about Har. She was always so nice to me — so encouraging. I still remember the day my Dad explained what really happened to her... I was so mad! How could anyone use someone so pure as Harmony, the way they did? It was so unfair... I wanted so bad to believe the world was like her.
But the world's unfair, I guess... Folks take advantage of people like Harmony. They use them until there's nothing left, and then they find something new to drain. I'm not going to be like Harmony... I miss her — and I bet if she was with us, she'd have helped fix this mess we're in — but I'm not her... People like her starve to death.
I look over to Stitch when she asks if we can leave. "No. Let's go." I hold out my hand, to shake. "I'm Kiddo, by the way. Thanks for saving VB..."
Alright, the three of you make your way outside without further incident.
You find the Doughs moved off to the side and Svenja and Rinso chatting, well... amiably? Well, they aren't hurting each other. Caesar is sitting on the ground, picking through some stuff that must have been pulled from inside. Somebody else went in there after you two took off to get VB.
Svenja asks, "Are we done, Stitch? We should get moving, Rinso here says shelter is a few clicks. It's already getting hot. We probably need to take some vitamins, right?
Oh and by the way, Kiddo, Hump, Brillo and the mutt are slowly making their way here, you see them coming into the valley.
"I need to look at my arm." I say, holding it up. There's blood seeping through the bandage, but not soaking it.
I go through the pack, looking for disinfectant and a suture kit, hoping I will also find something to numb my skin if I have to stitch it up. I pull out a blister pack of vitamins each for Svenja, Caesar and me, stuffing mine in a pocket- not gonna need the pills if my arm gets infected.
I jump down from the ship, our food in hand, and absent-mindedly walk up to Rinso and the rest of the group. I'm still thinking about Harmony, and how close we came to botching this job entirely... When Rinso asks if I'm alright, I kind of snap.
"No, I'm not alright! Shit Rinny! This ship's a damn coffin! We couldn't send someone to tear this shit down without proper protection, and we sure as shit shouldn't be going back in there! This whole damn thing's one gigantic write off!" I look over to the Dough-heads, and narrow my eyes. A lot of use those frakkers turned out to be... "Grab my pack, will you? I had to blow a clip of shells on those frakking eyes, just to get to Vee."
In the mean time, I'm going around the group, and handing them their share of the food. The sooner we get away from this flying coffin, the better.
Dunkins tears into her food, but KK and Timbits are watching you warily, Kiddo. Timbits asks, "If it's a write-off, Kiddo, mind if we take a look? Minus the ropes, of course."
Rinso barks, "Stay the frak down, Dough-boy!" He doesn't bring th erifle up to aim, but you know, he's a pretty good shot.
Kiddo, your dog scampers up to you. What does it look like? Is it affectionate?
"Yeah, I think I'm ok." I say to Caesar, "But I could use a hand, if you're up for it." I gently unwrap the bandage and begin assessing the wound. I grit my teeth as I squirt disinfectant into the wound liberally. Once that's done, I spread a bit of numbing gel on and get to work, stitching up the wound. I have Caesar hold my elbow up.
"Depends," I call back, "how do you like having a working brain?" I pause a minute, and feign concentration, "actually? Nevermind — you should be fine. Go nuts." Frak, I got everything I wanted out of that thing anyway.
I turn to Rinso, "Let 'em go, Rinny. The damn thing's more trouble than it's worth." Then I pat him on the shoulder, and start walking back towards Hump and Brillo. That's when Junker comes up and puts his front paws on my shoulders... He's a trouble maker, that one — nothing like Blue, that's for sure — but then he's a lot more like me... He's got a nose for trouble, and doesn't care if it's the right time to open his mouth. He likes to pee on things though... Things though, thankfully, not people.
As for being affectionate? You bet! To the right people, that is... You can usually tell whether Junker likes you or not the minute he lays eyes on you — playful and kissy? He likes you. Growling, and inserting himself between you and me? Well... Just don't piss him off.
Timbits shrugs, "Alright then. Glad we could do business, Kiddo." He starts pulling his family in to organize how they're going to tackle this ship.
Junker is up on you, Kiddo, licking, tail wagging, happy to see you. "Well hell, they got dogs." Svenja says with a hint of softness for the first time since she woke up. She's looking over at Junker, a hint of a smile on her face, distracted.
Caesar sidles up near to you, Stitch, saying low, "These folks have been here for a few generations. They've got a weird dialect, most of their stuff is scrounged from trash heaps. Ships have been crashing here for a few years now, like out of the blue. Can I help with that bandage?"
Kiddo, where are you and your team holed up right now?
I give Junker a good ear scratching and step back to get him off me. I get down to his eye level, and in a playful voice say, "Go get Hump, Junk — go get Hump!" I pat his back, to send him off.
Once he's on his way, I stand up and stretch a bit, then turn to Rinso. "Let's not stay long in Redcliff, yeah? I wanna get back to Boomtown as soon as possible." I smirk, and bounce my pack on my back, "got some stuff worth a couple jingle, I think!"
I feel bad making Rinso carry my shit... He's a good guy, but I can take care of myself, yeah? "I'm good, thanks though sweetie!" I hop up on my tippy-toes and give him a peck on the cheek. As for letting the Dough-heads go in the ship? Frak 'em. It's their funeral.
Redcliff's a small settlement on the eastern ridge of the Salt Flats, near — you guessed it — a cliff that turns blood red when the sun sets. It used to be a raider hangout, but the leader there — a big guy named Glock — went soft for this Valley chick when we all ran after the war. She had the place right respectable before Hump could even talk. Now it's just a bunch of old timers and their families making knives and shit.
I turn to Stitch and her crew, "We're passing through a nearby place called Redcliff, then moving straight on to our place back in Boomtown. You folks are welcome to tag along if you want..."
Caesar looks to you about going to Redcliff. Svenja says, "Stitch, you're coming, right?"
VB, and those two guys come up with the dog. The older guy wearing dark goggles have a misshapen head, almost like Down's syndrome, but his mouth is too wide, too. He ambles up awkwardly, like he has a weird gait more than a recent injury or anything like that. He inclines his head, "You're Stitch the healer? I'm Brillo of the Book." He extends a hand to you.
Brillo smiles wide and blinks a few times, looks like a kid on Christmas morning. He blinks his eyes, which behind the powerful lenses of his goggles, look comically large You hear Rinso sigh, "Gods, Kiddo. The new girl asked Brillo to speechify..."
Hump (the kid) snickers, and VB takes off ahead at a light jog, almost a trot. Svenja brings up the rear, keeping an eye on Caesar, who is lagging behind in the growing, dry heat.
It's obvious to you, Stitch, that Brillo intends on lecturing to you alllll about the history of the True Order, which is of course, the only real history of Junk World. It seems the Order was established over sixty years ago after "The Settlers" came to this planet. As he details the Order, including the litany of the oracles, which include (and end) with the names of Lost and Harmony, he shares their method of tracking time, which is by seasonal events called Junkfalls. Until eight Junkfalls, which it seems is about two years, since Junkfalls happen around every third lunar cycle, when Junk stopped dropping. Now, every once in a while, ships, often automated ships, like yours, crash instead.
"Measuring time is much more difficult now," Brillo lectures, "I have resumed measuring the lunar cycle, which can be tricky since there is a greater and lesser moon, which wax and wane differently."
"Brillo is a whizz with sky-sight, Stitch," Humphrey, the kid, says with a grin. He seems to find Brillo's speechifying much more interesting than Rinso does.
Brillo needles you a few times about where you're from, Stitch, "Could you share some of your past? Before, ah, you ended up here?" That's what he wishes you would do, tell him about the stars.
I was only going to Redcliff because lime hired us on to take her there — but now that I had to waste a full clip of shells on a couple of those frakking eyes? Well, I guess I'm going to see Remington. He's one of the best munitions makers in all of Salt Flats, when he's not busy getting high with his son Wesson...
It's obvious you're wondering why I don't wanna spend much time in Redcliff, and I suppose since I'm just sharing everything today I might as well tell you that too...
There's a girl there — Bose — who may, possibly, kind of, think that I might have to ... marry her son...
... Sort of...
Look! I'm not proud of it! I was his first, and even though he's really sweet and all, he's so boring! And a really horrible screw! And he doesn't even really like me all that much, on the count of the fact that I kind of laughed at him after the fact...
Ok, maybe I don't wanna see him either — but it's mostly his mom, because she's a crazy frakking bitch, who threatened to send her sisters after me if I didn't start cooking dinner for her lazy ass son!
Frak that, amirite?
... Anyway, I'll just keep it simple! In and out! Where's my frakking spare shotgun mag?
But Kiddo, wasn't "in and out" the very thing that got you in this mess with Bose in the first place?
Before long, you come upon Redcliff. The settlement is a couple large shacks surrounded by smaller tents, all constructed with bright blue tarps and twine. Stitch, it reminds you of some kind of Native American village, no real permanent structures, everything nestles under the cliff's overhang.
As you come closer, you notice there are no kids running around. Redcliff only has a handful of them really. Their parents keep under close watch, because "you never know". You hear a woman humming a tune, an old tune that reminds you of the somber hymn "The Old Rugged Cross".
You make your way around the outskirts of the twenty so odd tents. People saw you coming, and they know you, right? Or did lime pave the way for you? Is she still here?
Remington's shack is set apart. I mean, the man has munitions, so nobody stays near him. Which suits him and Wesson just fine.
Let's say you two, plus Rinso head inside Remington's. The place is pretty damn clean, considering. There's a space in the center with a small fire pit, a cast iron pot and a spit. A couple mismatched and half broken couches along the wall, a set of coolers and even a dresser.
Remington and Wesson are both stoned off their asses, sitting at stools by their work table, which has several presses and other munitions-making devices.
"Hey there.... Kiddo." Wesson drawls. The pair of them are greasy-haired guys in wife-beaters and slacks, tattooed and a bit sweat-stained. The older one, he's eyeing you with interest, Stitch.
Oh, ha ha! It's all one big frakking joke to you, isn't it? I should just sic Junker on her fat ass and be done with it.
Walking into Remington & Wesson's shack is like walking into a wall of highly concentrated smoke on good days, and a smog-filled rain forest on the bad ones. Today isn't that bad.
I wave and walk up to them. "Hey boys, how's business?"
Remington eyes you and Rinso and gives a lazy smile, "It's... lookin up now, heh." He smacks his lips like he's trying to rouse himself, "What you need?" He looks over at you, Stitch, "Who're you?"
The slightly older guy, who's eyes are slits right now, says, "I'm Remy," he nods to the slightly younger guy, "That's my son Wesson." He pauses to take a drag off a hand-rolled joint, the pungent smell of the smoke wafts in the air.
"Aint seen you with Kiddo's crew before. You from up north, the Pods? Dressed like an old colonist. Yer drek matches an everythin." Wesson chuckles.
I nod, "both, if you've got them, and I've been barking up that tree since she got here. I figured bringing her here to see your wares might wet her pallet."
Wesson completely misunderstands what "wet her pallet" means, as Stitch suddenly becomes the most interesting person in the room to him. He stands up from his stool to walk the joint over to you, Stitch, his slack face tightening with a stronger smile. "It's good stuff, Stitch. C'mon." He's reaching it to you now.
What do you do?
Remy's still sitting back, "I'll re-up yer shotty, throw in a couple clips fer yer nines fer a barter. I know ya been out at the crash this mornin, right? What you got?"
Stitch's comment makes me feel a little guilty, I turn away from the group a second to dig through my pack... Dad used to say stuff like that. He was so sad when he found out Ma' gave me a gun, there was only the one other time I'd seen him that upset — but Rinso knows all about that, and that was a long frakking time ago.
"Here," I pull out the weapon I snatched from the crew quarters of the junkship, and hold it up for them to see — but not touch! "I don't think I've ever seen a gun like this. It looks newer than anything I've ever seen in a junkship... I could let you have it... Tear it apart... You'd be the only gunsmith in the flats with it."
Before I let him take it though, I ask, "Who told you I was out at the crash?"
Remy shrugs, "Damn thing woke me up this mornin. Then you come walkin up askin fer ammo. I put two an two together. Why, you got some trouble?" He kicks up from his stool to stand, walks over to look at the gun, "Damn. That's a good trade, Kiddo. Even up?"
Stitch,
Wesson moves up close, like right in your personal bubble, "C'mon, sweetie, just a hit. It's smooth, loosen ya up... ya know?"
Then Rinso reaches his hand right past you, shoves Wesson's chest, knocking him half a meter back, "Back. Off. Wesson. She said no, asshole."
Wesson's upset, fists clenched, "What the frak, Rinso? I'm bein frakkin cordial! Drek!" He looks like he might be super pissed, but really, it's just words. He's obviously scared of Rinso.
Remy chuckles, "Pipe down, Junior. Lookit this gun, yeah?" He ambles over, gives a low whistle of appreciation. Remy asks again, even though you haven't had a chance to answer, "Even up?"
I look Rinso in the eyes and nod my thanks. A fragment of a memory surfaces in my brain- I've felt this before- but it recedes quickly, before I can connect it to anything.
My stomach rumbles, as if on cue, and I chuckle. "Yeah. A long while."
Sweet. There are only two good things Redcliff is good for: ammunition, and Kebap. An older guy named Henckels makes the best damn meat this side of Boomtown, and I can't help but treat myself every time I come here...
He runs a stall out of the back of his house near, the caves. There's a bunch of stools and a bar to eat at. Man, I can smell it from here — even through the smoke. "C'mon guys, let's get something to eat!"
Great! You saunter over to Henckles, which isn't far away here in Redcliff. Let's say the place isn't very busy right now. There is a guy and a girl here, both in their thirties, the woman is thin with red hair, the guy has curly black hair and has a bit of swagger to him. They're sitting at the stools in front of the stall, eating and talking, and you catch them holding hands where Henckle can't see.
There are a few picnic tables under a huge blue tarp that are unused, so the lot of you are eating on kebap and drinking some brew (or water). VB is sitting beside you, Kiddo. I assume Stitch, you're across the table from her? Svenja and Rinso are at another table, over by Junker, Hump, Brillo and Caesar are all chatting at the table nearest the sun.
The meat is spicy, a tad gamey, but not bad. Not bad at all. VB isn't eating, she's propped her robotic leg up and is checking on it right now, fidgeting with something, but listening in.
Holy frak this is good... I can't help but take a bite as soon as we sit, and moan loudly as the spice starts tingling on my tongue. My shoulders fall limp as I take my time chewing and swallowing. I wish I could convince Henckels to move to Boomtown... Making the trek out here every time I get a craving for decent meat is just annoying.
"So," I ask Stitch quietly before taking another bite, "What's the deal with you guys?"
I sit across the table from Kiddo and tear into my food. I have to slow myself down- I want to enjoy it, but I'm famished.
I swallow and answer quietly, "Got frozen- the iso-cube program. Some of us were sentenced or drafted into the program, but I volunteered. Not sure when it is now, but back then it was 2180. We were only supposed to be on ice long enough to get to the alternate colony. I think that time came and went long ago..."
There's that Icebox thing again... I nod along when appropriate, enjoying my meal as she talks. "Brillo told me once that the priests back in the Valley had a good guess as to how long the settlers were lost in the stars, but we lost all that when the temple fell during the war..." I take a drink of my brew, and lean in closer.
"What was life like," I pause, and lower my voice to a whisper, "y'know, back on the old world? I've heard all these stories about it, but nobody here really knows for sure, yeah?"
Around you, Caesar and Brillo are arguing about biochemical properties of some kind of alloy. Hump is engaged, but quietly listening. Svenja is showing Rinso some features on his pulse rifle that he "wasn't using right", but Rinso has his own ideas about proper use of a pulse rifle.
VB has a small cloth and a little metal spike that she's using to pick grit out of the servos on her leg. She's got her back against you, Kiddo. Listening while idly "grooming" herself like a cat.
Stitch, Junker is eyeing your kabop while Kiddo is talking. He seems to think you're distracted enough for him to, ahem, let you share some food with him.
I toss the last bite to the dog, smiling at the exchange between Rinso and Svenja.
"Different that this." I answer, looking around. "I had a job. Lived in an apartment in the city."
I want to say more, but how do you describe normal when it's so obviously foreign? I should be upset about waking up here- now- but I feel nothing for my former life. It's just a thing that no longer exists.
I shake my head and laugh when she hands Junker the last bit of meat, "You just made his month... He loves that stuff." Then I pause, obviously considering what she said, "What's an apartment? ... And a city?"
Man, things must have been so different!"What are you guys gunna do now?"
Stitch, Junker gobbles up the bite, sits down near you and does this sort of humming growl. It seems like a friendly act? Then he puts his front paws on the bench and starts licking your fingers, nudging his head in the way if you resist.
VB pipes up with, "There's 'partments at Podday. Called The Pen. Brillo says it was a spaceship to take folks around to see the stars."
Rinso is raising his voice, "No, those sights aren't off, they're lined up perfect! You just aim different!."
Svenja snipes back, "No, Rinso, I aim right. You're lining up all sideways, like you're in a movie or somethin."
Hump asks suddenly, "What's a movie?"
Brillo holds up a hand, "It's like a book, but the pictures move around, and you can hear it, too. We had some movies in the temple. They're quite thrilling."
Hump laughs, "That's drek, Book." He looks to Caesar, who nods, as if it's obvious truth.
I playfully resist for a moment, but let the dog lick my fingers. "My apartment was where I lived- like my own space. There was a bunch of them in a tall building- so tall they blocked out the sun at ground level. That was the city- a bunch of buildings where people worked and lived. A whole mess of people in a small amount of space- millions of 'em."
"A million?" my jaw drops incredulously, and I can barely hide the excitement in my eyes. "Holy crap that's a lot of folks! What the frak did you feed them all? Coconuts?"
I could ask Stitch questions like this all day, really...
"Coconuts?!?" I laugh, smiling at Kiddo. "No. Outside of the cities were farms where people would grow crops and raise animals. Huge ones. Same as you do now, I suspect- just at a larger scale."
Come to think of it, I'm not sure I'd ever even eaten a coconut...
I nod when Vee asks how much a million is. "It's like, all the hair on 10 people's heads or something... Right, Brillo?"
I slump down disappointed when she admits folks don't eat coconuts back on the old world... Damn it Uncle Lee, I knew you were full of shit! "We don't have a whole lot of farmable land here in salt flats... Hell, even back in the Valley it was mostly that crap they grew under Podday, and," I shudder, "bug paste." I take another drink of my brew, and smile wide, "I had eggs once, though! Real eggs! Those are amazing! I bet you had a million chickens too, didn't you?"
Kiddo, you catch sight of Bose and Altel (the boring frakker), they're coming to get some food. They're chatting about some kind of boring sewing thing and havent seen you yet. Not yet
I sink down even further, "Bose, and her son Altel. They're crazy, and they think I'm even crazier for not wanting to marry captain fantastic over there..." I wait for them to have their back to me; then I quickly, but quietly, grab my pack and bolt.
With the pair of them, plus a couple of Bose's sisters, heading straight for the food, you duck under the table and crawl out the opposite way. By the time they have their food and turn back to the tables, your crew has picked up and followed you out.
Comments
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 4. Total: 9)
• where’s my best escape route / way in / way past?
• what should I be on the lookout for?
• which enemy is most vulnerable to me? (i.e. what can I do to get Vee out?)
With Stitch's help, you can find an access port not designed as an airlock, but a mechanical release for opening the cargo bay on mega-container 2. That's your best way in.
You know VB well. If she stayed in there, she must have found some good haul and was trying to get it out. Checking the manifest tablet, you find an area marked as classified by something called Weyland-Yutani Corporation. That's probably where she is.
And that's exactly what you should be on the lookout for - more eyes, maybe a sentry gun. The good news, well, you didn't hear any sentry guns go off earlier. Well, it was pretty loud. Maybe you missed it.
It's best to take those things down quickly, yeah? What they do to people isn't pretty.
You've got your zippo out, flickering light, picking your way over crates and containers that shifting during the crash. This area has no noxious fumes, isn't that nice?
You spot a few things here.
Three eyes, hovering drones, they're near a container that is still locked into place by industrial mooring clamps, so it is basically completely sideways.
An un-moving VB, who either was hit by the "eyes" or the falling debris, is lying not far ahead, but right in the line of fire for the eyes.
Lastly, yes, there's a sentry gun, trained at the entrance of the container, which means its firing arc is mostly out of your range. Also, there's no indicator light on... so maybe it's inactive?
What do you do?
(Rolled: 2d6-1. Rolls: 2, 4. Total: 5)
s-harm means stun harm, recall. e effect is: if you just stagger
around in a concussed daze, cool; if you do anything else you’re
acting under fire.
Kiddo, you catch this, it happens right in front of you. What do you do?
Don't forget +1 for reading the sitch ahead of time.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 6, 1. Total: 8)
OOC:
For reference: Auntie Ruth's Boomstick (4-harm close reload area messy)
• Take definite hold of it. (Stitch's safety)
• Inflict terrible harm. (so 5-harm total before armor)
You grab Stitch by the arm and pull her along to a small pile of industrial walkers that slammed during the crash, now little more than scrap. Popping up to fire at the eyes, you take out all three.
But, your boomstick is now out of ammo.
Stitch,
Kiddo drug you along, and while I'm sure you watched her heroically take out those drones, you also caught a glance at VB, she's still breathing. But there's a pool of blood near her gut.
What do you do?
(Rolled: 2d6-1. Rolls: 2, 4. Total: 5)
With the cover fire from Kiddo, you gather your wits and clamber over the wreckage of those power loaders, then dash across the wall-floor to get to little VB. You swear, this girl has to be eighty pounds soaking wet, and she's average height.
As you're lifting the set of clamps that are covering her left arm, that's when you see the huge gash on your left forearm. It must have happened when you went over that wreckage. Lots of blood, not good. (1-Harm AP). But if you want to try and heal VB first, go ahead.
I gently place my hands on VB and open my brain to hers.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 4, 4. Total: 9)
I catch the pool of blood under VB, and my breathing picks up. Shit... Shit! Focus, Kiddo! Focus! "Can you fix her?" I ask, quickly looking to Stitch, who's... Who's...
... What the frak is she doing? "Well, whatever you're doing, take your time... I've got your back."
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 1. Total: 9)
What's that like? Is this something you've always been able to do? What's the psychic maelstrom like for you?
What are you saying to VB's mind right now? She can hear you, she's got no idea who you are, of course. She thinks you're one of the gods of the Order, whatever that is. Or maybe, you're Harmony? She loved Harmony so much. Her mother Lost, too. But Harmony, she was special.
"Shh. It's ok. I'm a friend." I nudge her brain to start repairing her wound- the scars will be worse this way, but it's better than being dead. "Tell me about Harmony..." I say to distract her.
VB's apprehension melts away, she trusts your assurances. Impulses along the wires connecting the two of you flow like flashes of light.
The first is a beautiful woman, like this:
There is a childlike quality to Harmony, innocence and acceptance and... hope. From the angle of VB's eyes, VB is lying on a bed, looking up at her.
Then another flash of Harmony, she's older, maybe her thirties. VB is sitting up now, but still shorter than her by quite alot. They're talking and she's smiling. There's an ugly bruise on Harmony's arm, but she still appears strong, unbroken.
Again, another impulse, a flash of Harmony, in her forties, still taller than VB, but perhaps that's a color of her self-perception. The bruise is faded, but still yellow and still there. Age is wearing on Harmony, her eyes bright and alert, but the bags under them betray her.
Then another, Harmony the elderly woman, wrinkles crease her face, her beauty has seasoned to a loveliness, her hope still shines through, but her body is ruined.
"Harmony... she was so wonderful. She never gave up on me. She helped me learned to walk again. She taught me to forgive. To love. There will never be anyone like her in the world..." Sadness emanates, but the profound effect this woman had on her gives her strength to survive.
Kiddo,
You feel this odd energy, and you hear the words VB is saying above, she's speaking aloud, the echoes in her own head shared with Stitch. Or perhaps, the other way around.
Then finally, Stitch is pulling back. VB is waking up. The eyes are down, the sentry guns still silent.
What do you do?
"You need to grab anything else or can we get the hell off this ship?" I ask Kiddo.
But the world's unfair, I guess... Folks take advantage of people like Harmony. They use them until there's nothing left, and then they find something new to drain. I'm not going to be like Harmony... I miss her — and I bet if she was with us, she'd have helped fix this mess we're in — but I'm not her... People like her starve to death.
I look over to Stitch when she asks if we can leave. "No. Let's go." I hold out my hand, to shake. "I'm Kiddo, by the way. Thanks for saving VB..."
You find the Doughs moved off to the side and Svenja and Rinso chatting, well... amiably? Well, they aren't hurting each other. Caesar is sitting on the ground, picking through some stuff that must have been pulled from inside. Somebody else went in there after you two took off to get VB.
Svenja asks, "Are we done, Stitch? We should get moving, Rinso here says shelter is a few clicks. It's already getting hot. We probably need to take some vitamins, right?
Oh and by the way, Kiddo, Hump, Brillo and the mutt are slowly making their way here, you see them coming into the valley.
I go through the pack, looking for disinfectant and a suture kit, hoping I will also find something to numb my skin if I have to stitch it up. I pull out a blister pack of vitamins each for Svenja, Caesar and me, stuffing mine in a pocket- not gonna need the pills if my arm gets infected.
Svenja is playing it cool, though. You're the doc, you'll fix it.
Kiddo, Rinso gives you a questioning look, "Everything alright?"
"No, I'm not alright! Shit Rinny! This ship's a damn coffin! We couldn't send someone to tear this shit down without proper protection, and we sure as shit shouldn't be going back in there! This whole damn thing's one gigantic write off!" I look over to the Dough-heads, and narrow my eyes. A lot of use those frakkers turned out to be... "Grab my pack, will you? I had to blow a clip of shells on those frakking eyes, just to get to Vee."
In the mean time, I'm going around the group, and handing them their share of the food. The sooner we get away from this flying coffin, the better.
Rinso barks, "Stay the frak down, Dough-boy!" He doesn't bring th erifle up to aim, but you know, he's a pretty good shot.
Kiddo, your dog scampers up to you. What does it look like? Is it affectionate?
I turn to Rinso, "Let 'em go, Rinny. The damn thing's more trouble than it's worth." Then I pat him on the shoulder, and start walking back towards Hump and Brillo. That's when Junker comes up and puts his front paws on my shoulders... He's a trouble maker, that one — nothing like Blue, that's for sure — but then he's a lot more like me... He's got a nose for trouble, and doesn't care if it's the right time to open his mouth. He likes to pee on things though... Things though, thankfully, not people.
As for being affectionate? You bet! To the right people, that is... You can usually tell whether Junker likes you or not the minute he lays eyes on you — playful and kissy? He likes you. Growling, and inserting himself between you and me? Well... Just don't piss him off.
Junker is up on you, Kiddo, licking, tail wagging, happy to see you. "Well hell, they got dogs." Svenja says with a hint of softness for the first time since she woke up. She's looking over at Junker, a hint of a smile on her face, distracted.
Caesar sidles up near to you, Stitch, saying low, "These folks have been here for a few generations. They've got a weird dialect, most of their stuff is scrounged from trash heaps. Ships have been crashing here for a few years now, like out of the blue. Can I help with that bandage?"
Kiddo, where are you and your team holed up right now?
Once he's on his way, I stand up and stretch a bit, then turn to Rinso. "Let's not stay long in Redcliff, yeah? I wanna get back to Boomtown as soon as possible." I smirk, and bounce my pack on my back, "got some stuff worth a couple jingle, I think!"
Rinso looks down at you, Kiddo, says low for just you to hear, "I can carry it."
Unless you stop them, the Dough-heads are going in there.
And it's just you two plus Kiddo, Svenja and Caesar here, with VB, Brillo (a guy about your age, Stitch) and Hump (a twelve or thirteen year old boy).
So you're headed to Redcliff first? What's that place like?
Redcliff's a small settlement on the eastern ridge of the Salt Flats, near — you guessed it — a cliff that turns blood red when the sun sets. It used to be a raider hangout, but the leader there — a big guy named Glock — went soft for this Valley chick when we all ran after the war. She had the place right respectable before Hump could even talk. Now it's just a bunch of old timers and their families making knives and shit.
I turn to Stitch and her crew, "We're passing through a nearby place called Redcliff, then moving straight on to our place back in Boomtown. You folks are welcome to tag along if you want..."
Caesar looks to you about going to Redcliff. Svenja says, "Stitch, you're coming, right?"
VB, and those two guys come up with the dog. The older guy wearing dark goggles have a misshapen head, almost like Down's syndrome, but his mouth is too wide, too. He ambles up awkwardly, like he has a weird gait more than a recent injury or anything like that. He inclines his head, "You're Stitch the healer? I'm Brillo of the Book." He extends a hand to you.
I shake Brillo's hand. "Yep. Nice to meet you."
OOC: Reading Brillo incoming
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 13)
OOC: Spending hold
Hump (the kid) snickers, and VB takes off ahead at a light jog, almost a trot. Svenja brings up the rear, keeping an eye on Caesar, who is lagging behind in the growing, dry heat.
It's obvious to you, Stitch, that Brillo intends on lecturing to you alllll about the history of the True Order, which is of course, the only real history of Junk World. It seems the Order was established over sixty years ago after "The Settlers" came to this planet. As he details the Order, including the litany of the oracles, which include (and end) with the names of Lost and Harmony, he shares their method of tracking time, which is by seasonal events called Junkfalls. Until eight Junkfalls, which it seems is about two years, since Junkfalls happen around every third lunar cycle, when Junk stopped dropping. Now, every once in a while, ships, often automated ships, like yours, crash instead.
"Measuring time is much more difficult now," Brillo lectures, "I have resumed measuring the lunar cycle, which can be tricky since there is a greater and lesser moon, which wax and wane differently."
"Brillo is a whizz with sky-sight, Stitch," Humphrey, the kid, says with a grin. He seems to find Brillo's speechifying much more interesting than Rinso does.
Brillo needles you a few times about where you're from, Stitch, "Could you share some of your past? Before, ah, you ended up here?" That's what he wishes you would do, tell him about the stars.
Who is here in Redcliff that you're hoping to see? And who would you rather avoid?
It's obvious you're wondering why I don't wanna spend much time in Redcliff, and I suppose since I'm just sharing everything today I might as well tell you that too...
There's a girl there — Bose — who may, possibly, kind of, think that I might have to ... marry her son...
... Sort of...
Look! I'm not proud of it! I was his first, and even though he's really sweet and all, he's so boring! And a really horrible screw! And he doesn't even really like me all that much, on the count of the fact that I kind of laughed at him after the fact...
Ok, maybe I don't wanna see him either — but it's mostly his mom, because she's a crazy frakking bitch, who threatened to send her sisters after me if I didn't start cooking dinner for her lazy ass son!
Frak that, amirite?
... Anyway, I'll just keep it simple! In and out! Where's my frakking spare shotgun mag?
Before long, you come upon Redcliff. The settlement is a couple large shacks surrounded by smaller tents, all constructed with bright blue tarps and twine. Stitch, it reminds you of some kind of Native American village, no real permanent structures, everything nestles under the cliff's overhang.
As you come closer, you notice there are no kids running around. Redcliff only has a handful of them really. Their parents keep under close watch, because "you never know". You hear a woman humming a tune, an old tune that reminds you of the somber hymn "The Old Rugged Cross".
You make your way around the outskirts of the twenty so odd tents. People saw you coming, and they know you, right? Or did lime pave the way for you? Is she still here?
Remington's shack is set apart. I mean, the man has munitions, so nobody stays near him. Which suits him and Wesson just fine.
Let's say you two, plus Rinso head inside Remington's. The place is pretty damn clean, considering. There's a space in the center with a small fire pit, a cast iron pot and a spit. A couple mismatched and half broken couches along the wall, a set of coolers and even a dresser.
Remington and Wesson are both stoned off their asses, sitting at stools by their work table, which has several presses and other munitions-making devices.
"Hey there.... Kiddo." Wesson drawls. The pair of them are greasy-haired guys in wife-beaters and slacks, tattooed and a bit sweat-stained. The older one, he's eyeing you with interest, Stitch.
What do you do?
Walking into Remington & Wesson's shack is like walking into a wall of highly concentrated smoke on good days, and a smog-filled rain forest on the bad ones. Today isn't that bad.
I wave and walk up to them. "Hey boys, how's business?"
Wesson
"Aint seen you with Kiddo's crew before. You from up north, the Pods? Dressed like an old colonist. Yer drek matches an everythin." Wesson chuckles.
"You guys got any shotgun shells? I had to take care of a few folks earlier today."
OOC: Read a sitch incoming.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 2, 1. Total: 5)
Remy answers you, Kiddo, "Yeah, we got some good drek for yer shotty. Buck or slugs? Does yer pal need somethin' better 'n that damn stunner?"
What do you do?
Remy's still sitting back, "I'll re-up yer shotty, throw in a couple clips fer yer nines fer a barter. I know ya been out at the crash this mornin, right? What you got?"
"I'm good." I say to Remy and Kiddo, holding up my stun gun. "I try and fix people, not make 'em worse."
"Here," I pull out the weapon I snatched from the crew quarters of the junkship, and hold it up for them to see — but not touch! "I don't think I've ever seen a gun like this. It looks newer than anything I've ever seen in a junkship... I could let you have it... Tear it apart... You'd be the only gunsmith in the flats with it."
Before I let him take it though, I ask, "Who told you I was out at the crash?"
Remy shrugs, "Damn thing woke me up this mornin. Then you come walkin up askin fer ammo. I put two an two together. Why, you got some trouble?" He kicks up from his stool to stand, walks over to look at the gun, "Damn. That's a good trade, Kiddo. Even up?"
Stitch,
Wesson moves up close, like right in your personal bubble, "C'mon, sweetie, just a hit. It's smooth, loosen ya up... ya know?"
Then Rinso reaches his hand right past you, shoves Wesson's chest, knocking him half a meter back, "Back. Off. Wesson. She said no, asshole."
Wesson's upset, fists clenched, "What the frak, Rinso? I'm bein frakkin cordial! Drek!" He looks like he might be super pissed, but really, it's just words. He's obviously scared of Rinso.
Remy chuckles, "Pipe down, Junior. Lookit this gun, yeah?" He ambles over, gives a low whistle of appreciation. Remy asks again, even though you haven't had a chance to answer, "Even up?"
I grab the ammo, and stuff it into my pack. "Hey Stitch, you wanna get something to eat? Maybe something to drink? It's been a while, yeah?"
My stomach rumbles, as if on cue, and I chuckle. "Yeah. A long while."
He runs a stall out of the back of his house near, the caves. There's a bunch of stools and a bar to eat at. Man, I can smell it from here — even through the smoke. "C'mon guys, let's get something to eat!"
There are a few picnic tables under a huge blue tarp that are unused, so the lot of you are eating on kebap and drinking some brew (or water). VB is sitting beside you, Kiddo. I assume Stitch, you're across the table from her? Svenja and Rinso are at another table, over by Junker, Hump, Brillo and Caesar are all chatting at the table nearest the sun.
The meat is spicy, a tad gamey, but not bad. Not bad at all. VB isn't eating, she's propped her robotic leg up and is checking on it right now, fidgeting with something, but listening in.
"So," I ask Stitch quietly before taking another bite, "What's the deal with you guys?"
I swallow and answer quietly, "Got frozen- the iso-cube program. Some of us were sentenced or drafted into the program, but I volunteered. Not sure when it is now, but back then it was 2180. We were only supposed to be on ice long enough to get to the alternate colony. I think that time came and went long ago..."
"What was life like," I pause, and lower my voice to a whisper, "y'know, back on the old world? I've heard all these stories about it, but nobody here really knows for sure, yeah?"
VB has a small cloth and a little metal spike that she's using to pick grit out of the servos on her leg. She's got her back against you, Kiddo. Listening while idly "grooming" herself like a cat.
Stitch, Junker is eyeing your kabop while Kiddo is talking. He seems to think you're distracted enough for him to, ahem, let you share some food with him.
"Different that this." I answer, looking around. "I had a job. Lived in an apartment in the city."
I want to say more, but how do you describe normal when it's so obviously foreign? I should be upset about waking up here- now- but I feel nothing for my former life. It's just a thing that no longer exists.
Man, things must have been so different! "What are you guys gunna do now?"
VB pipes up with, "There's 'partments at Podday. Called The Pen. Brillo says it was a spaceship to take folks around to see the stars."
Rinso is raising his voice, "No, those sights aren't off, they're lined up perfect! You just aim different!."
Svenja snipes back, "No, Rinso, I aim right. You're lining up all sideways, like you're in a movie or somethin."
Hump asks suddenly, "What's a movie?"
Brillo holds up a hand, "It's like a book, but the pictures move around, and you can hear it, too. We had some movies in the temple. They're quite thrilling."
Hump laughs, "That's drek, Book." He looks to Caesar, who nods, as if it's obvious truth.
I could ask Stitch questions like this all day, really...
Come to think of it, I'm not sure I'd ever even eaten a coconut...
I slump down disappointed when she admits folks don't eat coconuts back on the old world... Damn it Uncle Lee, I knew you were full of shit! "We don't have a whole lot of farmable land here in salt flats... Hell, even back in the Valley it was mostly that crap they grew under Podday, and," I shudder, "bug paste." I take another drink of my brew, and smile wide, "I had eggs once, though! Real eggs! Those are amazing! I bet you had a million chickens too, didn't you?"
What do you do?
It sounds like you're Acting Under Fire to get away from them without incident. Let's see some dice!
Stitch,
This isn't your deal, so you can easily stay put without trouble. But, if you want to help, feel free to let me know how and roll it!
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 1, 6. Total: 10)
With the pair of them, plus a couple of Bose's sisters, heading straight for the food, you duck under the table and crawl out the opposite way. By the time they have their food and turn back to the tables, your crew has picked up and followed you out.
Scott free.
--END SCENE--