Mei, you make your way quietly down toward the dock, waiting to time your attack after you hear Ksenia's first shot. When it comes, the round passes far wide of any of the guards, burying itself in the wreckage of the hydrofoil some fifty yards along. The sudden distraction does distract the soldiers guarding the boats, and you move in quickly to take advantage. You make every effort to stay out of K's direct line of fire, but as it happens, no further shots come.
The first guard you reach swings around just before you come up on his back, his long rifle awkward at this close range. Snake-fast, you grab the rifle from his hands and club him in the temple with the butt. Even as he crumples, you line up a shot on a second guard and pull the trigger, sending her flying back into the water. The remaining two are alerted now, both facing you with their own rifles from about 10 yards distance.
What do you do?
Ksenia, you are concentrating intently, one with your sniper rifle and your target. Just as you exhale and start to squeeze the trigger to take your first shot, you hear the smallest sound of effort from behind you, then feel a sharp, slamming pain in the back of your head. Then you don't feel anything for a while.
There is a new d12 Complication on this scene: Ksenia is Captured.
I swallow, blink, and focus. I must keep my psi shunted down, but I'm still thinking of Gaumata. I'll lay down a little suppressive fire — maybe i'll get lucky — and run to cover, making the last few steps with a roll. Where's Ksenia's shots? I throw a glance her way, maybe the rifle jammed? I've got my back to a storage crate or something, the wood of the dock rough under my feet. I breathe, check the weapon, count to two, and pop up to one side to fire at the left-hand guard.
Mei, you don't have a perfect line of sight, but you don't see Ksenia or the barrel of her sniper rifle. In that momentary glance, you realize that you don't feel her through the Cora link, either. Working through the distraction, you secure cover and prepare to pop up and fire at the guard.
You hear one of the guards, a man, say, "Was she just wearing her underwear? What the hell?"
Another roll here, Mei.
2d8 for the basic Challenge (less guards, more confusion) 1d12 "Where is Ksenia?" (this was a 2-woman op, and you've got no backup now)
Bravery - d6 - Needs must. You've got it, Mei. Security - d8 - Line up your shot and take it. The Right Stuff - d8 - Just like on the firing range. Exhale and squeeze. Zoo - d8 - Guys like these hurt Zoo.
Mei, two soldiers, two shots. They're done. Ksenia is nowhere to be found, and the exchange of fire is sure to have attracted attention from the other soldiers on the island, the ones not restrained in the main house.
Don't think about it now, Mei. They chose this, not you. I close my eyes, lean briefly against a coconut tree. Ksenia, Mei. She needs you. My eyes snap open, searching.
I fix a radio in my ear, listen. How many are they? What can I pick up?
Cover, Mei, get cover. My feet touch the ground quickly, quietly. The boathouse roof? I want to put eyes on Ksenia's sniper nest before I follow. It would be terrible to rush into an ambush.
Mei, you get to the roof of the small boathouse that stores Ayala's small pleasure-craft. The ones guests use to avail themselves of the opportunity to observe the sealife congregating along the artificial reefs and do some fishing a bit further out from the island's shore.
Ksenia's nest is clean. Nothing there, no K, no equipment, no enemies.
The radio you grabbed comes to your life in you ear, an unfamiliar voice. Major? What is your status? All teams report!
I keep one ear on the radio. I'll cautiously open a psi-link to Pierre. // this is mei / onesie out of the picture right now / four more guards down / ksenia mia / how is zoo / sitrep please //
If I had some decent tools, these radios could be tracked. Dinah could do it in her sleep. I'm hesitant to touch her mind right now. Still can't feel K, which makes me worry for her.
Be nice to have a shirt. Or pants. Or boots. Or a spaceship. I fuss with the weapon, checking it.
Mei, just as you feel Pierre respond to the link you've established, you hear the sound of gunfire from the direction of the main house. busy here / twelve outside
A quick back-and-forth on the horizon to check the path. I need to get to the house. I'm looking for motion and listening for sound. My mouth is slightly parted so I can breathe quieter. When the time is right and the way is clear, I check and drop off the roof to a crouch. Time to run. Keep low, Mei.
Mei, you run along the dock toward the house, pausing at the end to hide behind the small utility shed where the dock meets the beach. No one has seen you. Peeking around the corner, you see two soldiers running in your direction and ten exchanging fire with the occupants of the house. The transparent double doors are still intact, apparently made of a substance other than glass. Pierre is at one window, Leona at another, and you see someone moving quickly, farther back in the room. You have about ten seconds before the two incoming hostiles reach your position.
I don't need to draw attention of all dozen just yet. I holster my sidearm and get cover. When they pass, I will look for an opportunity to take both out quietly. If that means knocking their skulls together followed several palm strikes, so be it.
Plenty of binders to do this.
They are all depending on you, Mei. I feel the weight of everyone's expectations. If Sung could see me now!
Mei, you are not in the strongest of positions. You're barely dressed, unshod, going up against two well-trained and disciplined fighters, both larger than you. Also, you apparently want to do this quietly. I'm going to ask for you to roll, of course. If you beat my roll by 3 or more, you will attract no attention.
Difficulty: 1d10 (the stakes are high and your resources are low) (Rolled: 1d10. Rolls: 9. Total: 9) Two Trained and Disciplined Soldiers: 1d8 (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 1. Total: 1) Barefoot and Barely Dressed: 1d8 (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 6. Total: 6) Ksenia is Captured: 1d8 (worried and uncertain) (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 8. Total: 8)
Bravery - d6 - One Mei against twelve guards? Sure. Security - d8 - This isn't a clean white dojo. But the techniques remain. Natural Athlete - d8 - I'm au naturale. Almost totally unencumbered. Pure form. Lithe and fast - d8 - [OOC: spending 1 PP] Out of nowhere, I can move faster than they can react. Lightning while they are trees. Challenging Ksenia - 3d10 - She's the damsel. I can rescue her.
In eleven and a half seconds, I have sprung from my crouch, driving my entire mass through both fists into the second one's right kidney, where the armor must bend for flexibility.
In eleven and three-quarters seconds, he is down on his knees, eyes open in pain, the half-hitch of breath before he hitches his breath to shout and warn.
In twelve seconds, I'm behind him in a choke-hold, applying strong pressure to his carotid, covering his mouth and leaving his nose free. His flailing arms find no target.
"Shh," I breathe in his ear.
In fourteen seconds, he is about to pass out.
In fifteen seconds, I lower him gently to the ground, eyes locked on the man in front.
In fifteen and a half seconds, his wrists are zip-stripped. The quiet plastic buzz is lost in the other soldier's running.
In sixteen seconds, I am in a sprint, muscular legs flashing, bare arms pumping, to catch him.
In seventeen seconds, I have let myself make enough noise that he half-turns at the odd footfall.
In seventeen and a half seconds, I see the confusion on his face as he watches a half-naked woman running to him.
In eighteen seconds, I have landed a kick to his knee, a palm strike to his body, and an uppercut to his jaw, the twist of his body easily throwing him off balance.
In eighteen and a half seconds, I am crouched over him like a lover, knocking him out with the butt of my sidearm.
In nineteen seconds, his wrists are zip-stripped also.
In twenty seconds, the fight is over.
I am victorious, adrenaline and oxygen moving through my veins. A breeze from the sea cools my sweat and ruffles my hair, raising goosebumps on my flesh. It will take a handful of minutes to better secure these two on the dock, binding them together awkwardly back-to-back and upside down. I strip them of radios and every weapon I can find. I toss anything too burdensome in the water, mentally apologizing to the Agiran Environmental Commission.
I also tie their shoelaces together. Maybe there's at least a spare t-shirt or sandals in the utility shed. I'll check, then get closer to the house.
Mei, you take a second to savor the victory, breathing fast and, frankly, a bit turned on by your own badass self. You take a step toward the shed and feel a shooting pain in your right foot. Apparently at some point in your mad dash for the second hostile, you did something to damage it.
d6 Complication: Sprained Foot
You enter the shed. It's surprisingly neat, rows of maintenance tools and what-have-you all in their places. There's also a bank of numbered lockers, and in one of the five unlocked ones, you find a set of dirty workpants-and-shirt that are almost not too big for you. Shoes? Not so much. Nothing even close.
I'll slip into the pants and use a small bungee as a belt. The shirt smells of grass and alien mud, the earthy smells bringing me into the here and now. I slump on the bench, bare feet wide, head hung, rubbing the texture of the cloth in my fingers.
I take a breath and pull it over my head, over the flak jacket. The bulk should be a little better concealed. I tuck all my hair up under a cap ("I ♥ AGIRA)" and head back out. The sidearm is a dangerously comforting weight.
I fiddle with the radio to see if I can pick up chatter. I'm not Ksenia. There's no way I can shoot down ten guards without flinching. I peek out the door and head to the house.
Signals discipline is impeccable, Mei, and you recognize the check-in signals as straight-out Space Corps standard. You're covered now, which gives you some comfort, even if the shirt and trousers are too big. Nothing for your feet, though, and one of them is hurting pretty badly as you pad around the shed. Just before you leave to try and sneak around to the back of the house, the radio comes to life once more.
Eight, Ten, report. Report. Sitrep on the docks. Repeat, Eight, Ten. Report.
Also, in that part of your mind that is always aware of her, you feel Ksenia's presence flicker to life, dimly.
I psi-send waves of love to Ksenia. I'm having a hard time tracking her, though. I rub my ankle, rolling the ball and flexing. Twinges of pain when I move just so. The injury reminds me of my shoulder one ages ago on the Jane. Ksenia will owe me a good rubdown, and that thought relaxes my features into a wan smile.
Why are they using Space Corps discipline? Washed-out mercenaries? Or something more black ops? This troubles me and makes me frown. And where is Nine?
Set it aside, Mei. Your friends need you! I want to sneak out and head for the house, using any cover that makes sense.
Mei, it certainly isn't going to be easy, sneaking around to the back of the house. The soldiers you see are at the front of the house, and you'll have to be very stealthy or very clever to get around them from your position on the docks.
Difficulty: d10 (the ground is very open, you're bound to be pretty exposed) (Rolled: 1d10. Rolls: 3. Total: 3) Soldiers: d10 (there's lots of them, and they're good) (Rolled: 1d10. Rolls: 2. Total: 2) Sprained Foot: d6 (Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 3. Total: 3) Ksenia is Captured: d8 (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 8. Total: 8)
I'm not going to add a die for being barefoot, because you'll mostly be moving across sand, so it's not that big a deal.
Duty - d10 - They think taking hostages is the Space Corps way? I'll show them what a person of character does. Security - d8 - I'm stealthy and clever. Natural Athlete - d8 - I'm also quick and graceful. Zoo - d8 - Woman down. She needs help.
Snake without a Head - d6 - Use their confusion, Mei.
Mei, as you consider your approach, you realize that you've been unconsciously dismissing the water as an angle of attack. You prepare, and slip into the water, swimming silently below the surface and emerging around a little point of land, out of sight of the men and women at the front of the house. From there, it's a matter of minutes to make your way to the back of the house. Strangely, there is only one man back here, keeping lookout, and he presents no challenge once you sneak within feet of him. You leave him on the ground, restrained and gagged.
As soon as you open the back door, you realize the reason that only one man was outside. You hear several low voices further in, in the direction of the interior door that leads to the Great Room. To your immediate left is the kitchen, and a bit up on the right is the staff dining room. From this angle, you can just see the shoulder of a uniformed man, and one of the staff restrained in a chair.
The overland part of the trip did stress your already stressed ankle. I'll buy that 1 with a PP to up the complication for your foot to a d8.
The joy of the water is fantastic but short-lived. I take a careful few minutes to wring as much of the water out of my clothes and hair before I advance. My ankle will remind me of this tomorrow, I can tell. I might need two massages.
Inside, I crouch down low, my back to the wall. I pull out the sidearm and check it carefully. The scent of roast pork still lingers in the air, mixing unpleasantly with the cordite, a reminder of how fast the world can change.
I swallow, close my eyes tight for a second to take a deep breath. The weapon is ready. My finger is alongside the barrel. I listen.
Mei, you're guessing that the team here was six. The one out back, one in with the staff, and four further in, planning to take the back door into the Great Room and provide some support for the fire team outside. The hallway is wide, so you won't have the advantage of taking them on one at a time if they realize you're here.
You feel a fuzzy but intense sense of pain from Ksenia, but you still can't make any sort of meaningful connection.
I look at the sidearm, ugly thing that it is. But it's a tool, Mei. They should hesitate. Hostages are their angle, their leverage on the Polity board and the Agira council. But one or two less... troublesome loose ends might be cleaner.
I creep down the little hallway, slowly, slowly, eyes on that shoulder. I concentrate to make myself as small as possible. In a moment, I'll spring around the corner and train my weapon on the soldier. My breathing is rapid. My pulse is up. This isn't a pleasant excitement.
Almost there... almost there... If there's just one...
Ksenia probably studies a whole little black book of badass one-liners. All I've got is "Don't move, asshole!" Finger on the trigger. You mean business, Mei. Think of your friends. Forget the whole Polity for a second. Spheres will still turn without Agira. Think of the Jane and her crew.
...pounce!
"Freeze! Quiet!" I hiss, weapon pointed at the merc.
Mei, there's just one, and she looks to be about your age as her eyes widen, facing your weapon. She moves her empty hands out to the side, palms facing you. Her rifle is on its sling across her back and her sidearm is holstered but not secured.
The staff's eyes are wide as well. Ten of them in this room, all bound, but not uncomfortably tightly.
"Hands behind your head. Now turn around, slowly! I'll cut the binders on the nearest staff member and hand him the tool. Nod for him to free the others.
Then I'll approach the merc. "Don't try anything funny. Is the paycheck worth it?" I'm going to bind her wrists behind her head first, then walk her to a chair. Whichever staff member is next closest gets to help me bind her to a chair and disarm her. One of the fine embroidered linen napkins will be large enough to fashion a gag.
The radio, get the radio.
What staff are with me? Who have I interacted with in the last couple days? Who's holding up and who's close to the edge?
Mei, it goes as you said. The soldier is bound, the staff isn't. Most of the staff retains the professionally calm demeanor you've come to expect in the last few days, but one young lady is crying quietly, being comforted by an older woman. They must work in the kitchen, you haven't seen either of them.
Among the rest, you've interacted most with Captain Sinnott, who isn't staff, strictly speaking, but does mostly stick to his own little apartment in the staff quarters. A young man named Jason has been your guide to the natural beauty of Ainhoa Island—he's fit and athletic, and seems to be keeping a cool head. Among the rest, most are in pretty decent shape, but you don't really have a sense of how they will react when the bacon hits the pan.
"Sinnott, Jason, I'm going to see to the others. You lot stay here, keep an ear on the radio. An all-clear from me is haricot vert. Anything else from me means something's not right, exercise caution.." Really, Mei? That doesn't conform to the Space Corps standards of operational security code words. "Is anyone comfortable with slugthrowers?" The rifle, sidearm are on the table. Anything else notable in her pockets?
Mei, Sinnott indicates that he's comfortable with the guns, and one of the women nods as well. You haven't really interacted with her previously, but she tells you her name is Marisol. The staff seems fairly calm as you leave the room and continue creeping further into the house. As you near the four soldiers, you can hear that they are quietly coordinating with someone at the front of the building. The sound of gunfire, sporadic and sharp, comes to your ears.
You feel a sudden, sharp burst of pain from Ksenia, followed a few seconds later by another. Her pain becomes a constant, low-level hum in the back of your mind, but still you seem unable to form a meaningful link with your lover.
Her pain eats at me. But it's a fire that drives. I know those four are going for my friends and the other guests.
Ksenia's feelings spark an idea that I don't want to rely on. I've already wielded pleasure against this snake's head... it might be time to try pain on its body.
Shit, shit, shit.
Whispering, "Okay, there's only four mercs about to trap Pierre and the rest. We've got the drop on them. Sinnott, Marisol, ready? We got this."
Mei, from that point things happen fast. Sinnott and Marisol follow, borrowing some of the confidence you're trying to project (even if you're not feeling it so strongly at the moment). You three burst around the corner. As you do, you hear an order over the radio. "Stand down. Stand down!" At just that moment, they notice you and your backup with your weapons drawn and coming fast.
Mei, here's the thing. You've got the discipline to check yourself, evaluate the new information, but the two civilians with you don't have your training. Asking for a roll here, to manage your "team." I'm going to roll some dice, and here's the stakes. If you beat me, neither of your helpers pulls a trigger before the soldiers respond to your demand, nor do the soldiers react to the threat. If not, shit gets real.
CHALLENGE
Difficulty: d8 (It could be worse. The soldiers are fish in a barrel at the moment, and they know it.) (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 8. Total: 8) Four Soldiers: d8 (Instincts and training say "Respond to the threat.") (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 3. Total: 3) Untested Backup: d8 (What does "comfortable with guns" mean in this situation?) (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 4. Total: 4) Ksenia is Captured: d8 (Still feeling her pain, although the "signal" is clearing somewhat.) (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
Bravery - d6 - I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Leader - d6 - I'm actually leading people into battle! Well, hopefully not an actual battle. Plucky - d8 - Barefoot and outnumbered, I'm still in it to win it. Snake without a Head - d6 - Without a leader, they need to listen to someone. Sinnott and Marisol - d6 - Backup is backup.
One of the mercs instinctively responds to the honed edge of command in my voice, and he drops his rifle and thrusts his hands into the air. The female merc inadvertently lets out a frustrated noise at the rookie's action. Three on three, now.
One of the others has made a furtive, preemptive motion as though he's going to try something funny. I retarget on him and don't blink. "You've got your orders, twitchy. Stand down." He throws his weapons to one side and complies.
Captain Sinnot's a little twitchy himself, and the female merc is holding steady but she has fire in her eyes. She wants him to fire, I can tell, she's itching for action in that way I've seen K look sometimes. "Steady, steady." I say low. "We can still all go home to morning fishing." Sinnot steadies himself, eyes a bit distant. He tightens his aim and says in his captain voice, "You heard her, hands up!" The merc slowly sets her weapons down, still challenging. But her empty hands are in the air.
Marisol gives the merc on the right a dirty look, her aim angled down. "Try it and I'll shoot 'em off, asshole." Her merc blanches and drops his weapons, holding them out very distinctly.
Between the three of us, we quickly have the four mercs subdued, disarmed, and de-radioed. Marisol and Sinnot will take them back to the staff kitchen for guarding.
I find my hope and let it fill me.
I peek through the crack in the doors to the Great Room.
Mei, the shooting has stopped. No sounds other than vaguely heard male sobbing and indistinct words in Ayala's rich baritone. Through the crack, you have very limited view of the room. You're going to have to take a chance on entering if you want to fully grok the situation. What do you do?
The room is quiet. You can see through the windows that the soldiers outside have backed off several paces and shipped their weapons. Ayala's up and talking through one of the broken windows to the soldiers, but most of the attention in the room is on someone lying on the floor, badly hurt but alive. Who is it, Mei?
It's Premier Lovejoy! My eyes are wide with realization, and I holster my weapon. How are Zoo and Dinah? I want to hug them both and I miss Ksenia.
No wonder the sudden stand down. If he dies, that's a major chip off their hostage list. The political implications are huge, to say nothing of what nonsense they hoped to accomplish with the Agira negotiations. Killing the Keikan leader would garner Polity support amongst the Independent Worlds. I've only had a few polisci courses, but I can see the dominoes fall.
"Pierre," I say as I approach Lovejoy, Upshaw attending him,"The staff are all fine. I've got six... no, eight, more mercs are down and secured." I have some basic field medico skills, but this is beyond me. I work keep my voice steady. "Any word on Ksenia? We were, ah, separated. Is anyone else unaccounted for?"
"Dr. Upshaw...?" I ask, meeting his eyes. How bad is it?
Comments
(Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 1. Total: 1) Duty
(Rolled: 2d10. Rolls: 1, 8. Total: 9) Security
(Rolled: 1d4. Rolls: 2. Total: 2) Vet distinction
(Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 1. Total: 1) Mei relationship
(Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 1. Total: 1) Asset
Mei, you make your way quietly down toward the dock, waiting to time your attack after you hear Ksenia's first shot. When it comes, the round passes far wide of any of the guards, burying itself in the wreckage of the hydrofoil some fifty yards along. The sudden distraction does distract the soldiers guarding the boats, and you move in quickly to take advantage. You make every effort to stay out of K's direct line of fire, but as it happens, no further shots come.
The first guard you reach swings around just before you come up on his back, his long rifle awkward at this close range. Snake-fast, you grab the rifle from his hands and club him in the temple with the butt. Even as he crumples, you line up a shot on a second guard and pull the trigger, sending her flying back into the water. The remaining two are alerted now, both facing you with their own rifles from about 10 yards distance.
What do you do?
Ksenia, you are concentrating intently, one with your sniper rifle and your target. Just as you exhale and start to squeeze the trigger to take your first shot, you hear the smallest sound of effort from behind you, then feel a sharp, slamming pain in the back of your head. Then you don't feel anything for a while.
There is a new d12 Complication on this scene: Ksenia is Captured.
I swallow, blink, and focus. I must keep my psi shunted down, but I'm still thinking of Gaumata. I'll lay down a little suppressive fire — maybe i'll get lucky — and run to cover, making the last few steps with a roll. Where's Ksenia's shots? I throw a glance her way, maybe the rifle jammed? I've got my back to a storage crate or something, the wood of the dock rough under my feet. I breathe, check the weapon, count to two, and pop up to one side to fire at the left-hand guard.
Mei, you don't have a perfect line of sight, but you don't see Ksenia or the barrel of her sniper rifle. In that momentary glance, you realize that you don't feel her through the Cora link, either. Working through the distraction, you secure cover and prepare to pop up and fire at the guard.
You hear one of the guards, a man, say, "Was she just wearing her underwear? What the hell?"
Another roll here, Mei.
2d8 for the basic Challenge (less guards, more confusion)
1d12 "Where is Ksenia?" (this was a 2-woman op, and you've got no backup now)
Ksenia: (Rolled: 1d12. Rolls: 7. Total: 7)
Bravery - d6 - Needs must. You've got it, Mei.
Security - d8 - Line up your shot and take it.
The Right Stuff - d8 - Just like on the firing range. Exhale and squeeze.
Zoo - d8 - Guys like these hurt Zoo.
Security - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 6. Total: 6)
The Right Stuff - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 1. Total: 1)
Zoo - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 6. Total: 6)
Mei, two soldiers, two shots. They're done. Ksenia is nowhere to be found, and the exchange of fire is sure to have attracted attention from the other soldiers on the island, the ones not restrained in the main house.
What do you do?
I grab a radio, not looking too closely. Shit.
Don't think about it now, Mei. They chose this, not you. I close my eyes, lean briefly against a coconut tree. Ksenia, Mei. She needs you. My eyes snap open, searching.
I fix a radio in my ear, listen. How many are they? What can I pick up?
Cover, Mei, get cover. My feet touch the ground quickly, quietly. The boathouse roof? I want to put eyes on Ksenia's sniper nest before I follow. It would be terrible to rush into an ambush.
Mei, you get to the roof of the small boathouse that stores Ayala's small pleasure-craft. The ones guests use to avail themselves of the opportunity to observe the sealife congregating along the artificial reefs and do some fishing a bit further out from the island's shore.
Ksenia's nest is clean. Nothing there, no K, no equipment, no enemies.
The radio you grabbed comes to your life in you ear, an unfamiliar voice. Major? What is your status? All teams report!
I keep one ear on the radio. I'll cautiously open a psi-link to Pierre. // this is mei / onesie out of the picture right now / four more guards down / ksenia mia / how is zoo / sitrep please //
If I had some decent tools, these radios could be tracked. Dinah could do it in her sleep. I'm hesitant to touch her mind right now. Still can't feel K, which makes me worry for her.
Be nice to have a shirt. Or pants. Or boots. Or a spaceship. I fuss with the weapon, checking it.
Mei, just as you feel Pierre respond to the link you've established, you hear the sound of gunfire from the direction of the main house. busy here / twelve outside
What do you do?
A quick back-and-forth on the horizon to check the path. I need to get to the house. I'm looking for motion and listening for sound. My mouth is slightly parted so I can breathe quieter. When the time is right and the way is clear, I check and drop off the roof to a crouch. Time to run. Keep low, Mei.
Mei, you run along the dock toward the house, pausing at the end to hide behind the small utility shed where the dock meets the beach. No one has seen you. Peeking around the corner, you see two soldiers running in your direction and ten exchanging fire with the occupants of the house. The transparent double doors are still intact, apparently made of a substance other than glass. Pierre is at one window, Leona at another, and you see someone moving quickly, farther back in the room. You have about ten seconds before the two incoming hostiles reach your position.
What do you do?
I don't need to draw attention of all dozen just yet. I holster my sidearm and get cover. When they pass, I will look for an opportunity to take both out quietly. If that means knocking their skulls together followed several palm strikes, so be it.
Plenty of binders to do this.
They are all depending on you, Mei. I feel the weight of everyone's expectations. If Sung could see me now!
Mei, you are not in the strongest of positions. You're barely dressed, unshod, going up against two well-trained and disciplined fighters, both larger than you. Also, you apparently want to do this quietly. I'm going to ask for you to roll, of course. If you beat my roll by 3 or more, you will attract no attention.
Difficulty: 1d10 (the stakes are high and your resources are low)
(Rolled: 1d10. Rolls: 9. Total: 9)
Two Trained and Disciplined Soldiers: 1d8
(Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 1. Total: 1)
Barefoot and Barely Dressed: 1d8
(Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 6. Total: 6)
Ksenia is Captured: 1d8 (worried and uncertain)
(Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 8. Total: 8)
Bravery - d6 - One Mei against twelve guards? Sure.
Security - d8 - This isn't a clean white dojo. But the techniques remain.
Natural Athlete - d8 - I'm au naturale. Almost totally unencumbered. Pure form.
Lithe and fast - d8 - [OOC: spending 1 PP] Out of nowhere, I can move faster than they can react. Lightning while they are trees.
Challenging Ksenia - 3d10 - She's the damsel. I can rescue her.
Security - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 4. Total: 4)
Natural Athlete - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 1. Total: 1)
Lithe and fast - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 6. Total: 6)
Challenging Ksenia - (Rolled: 3d10. Rolls: 10, 2, 8. Total: 20)
In eleven seconds, they have passed me.
In eleven and a half seconds, I have sprung from my crouch, driving my entire mass through both fists into the second one's right kidney, where the armor must bend for flexibility.
In eleven and three-quarters seconds, he is down on his knees, eyes open in pain, the half-hitch of breath before he hitches his breath to shout and warn.
In twelve seconds, I'm behind him in a choke-hold, applying strong pressure to his carotid, covering his mouth and leaving his nose free. His flailing arms find no target.
"Shh," I breathe in his ear.
In fourteen seconds, he is about to pass out.
In fifteen seconds, I lower him gently to the ground, eyes locked on the man in front.
In fifteen and a half seconds, his wrists are zip-stripped. The quiet plastic buzz is lost in the other soldier's running.
In sixteen seconds, I am in a sprint, muscular legs flashing, bare arms pumping, to catch him.
In seventeen seconds, I have let myself make enough noise that he half-turns at the odd footfall.
In seventeen and a half seconds, I see the confusion on his face as he watches a half-naked woman running to him.
In eighteen seconds, I have landed a kick to his knee, a palm strike to his body, and an uppercut to his jaw, the twist of his body easily throwing him off balance.
In eighteen and a half seconds, I am crouched over him like a lover, knocking him out with the butt of my sidearm.
In nineteen seconds, his wrists are zip-stripped also.
In twenty seconds, the fight is over.
I am victorious, adrenaline and oxygen moving through my veins. A breeze from the sea cools my sweat and ruffles my hair, raising goosebumps on my flesh. It will take a handful of minutes to better secure these two on the dock, binding them together awkwardly back-to-back and upside down. I strip them of radios and every weapon I can find. I toss anything too burdensome in the water, mentally apologizing to the Agiran Environmental Commission.
I also tie their shoelaces together. Maybe there's at least a spare t-shirt or sandals in the utility shed. I'll check, then get closer to the house.
Mei, you take a second to savor the victory, breathing fast and, frankly, a bit turned on by your own badass self. You take a step toward the shed and feel a shooting pain in your right foot. Apparently at some point in your mad dash for the second hostile, you did something to damage it.
d6 Complication: Sprained Foot
You enter the shed. It's surprisingly neat, rows of maintenance tools and what-have-you all in their places. There's also a bank of numbered lockers, and in one of the five unlocked ones, you find a set of dirty workpants-and-shirt that are almost not too big for you. Shoes? Not so much. Nothing even close.
What do you do?
Oh, thank goodness.
I'll slip into the pants and use a small bungee as a belt. The shirt smells of grass and alien mud, the earthy smells bringing me into the here and now. I slump on the bench, bare feet wide, head hung, rubbing the texture of the cloth in my fingers.
I take a breath and pull it over my head, over the flak jacket. The bulk should be a little better concealed. I tuck all my hair up under a cap ("I ♥ AGIRA)" and head back out. The sidearm is a dangerously comforting weight.
I fiddle with the radio to see if I can pick up chatter. I'm not Ksenia. There's no way I can shoot down ten guards without flinching. I peek out the door and head to the house.
Signals discipline is impeccable, Mei, and you recognize the check-in signals as straight-out Space Corps standard. You're covered now, which gives you some comfort, even if the shirt and trousers are too big. Nothing for your feet, though, and one of them is hurting pretty badly as you pad around the shed. Just before you leave to try and sneak around to the back of the house, the radio comes to life once more.
Also, in that part of your mind that is always aware of her, you feel Ksenia's presence flicker to life, dimly.
Relief!
I psi-send waves of love to Ksenia. I'm having a hard time tracking her, though. I rub my ankle, rolling the ball and flexing. Twinges of pain when I move just so. The injury reminds me of my shoulder one ages ago on the Jane. Ksenia will owe me a good rubdown, and that thought relaxes my features into a wan smile.
Why are they using Space Corps discipline? Washed-out mercenaries? Or something more black ops? This troubles me and makes me frown. And where is Nine?
Set it aside, Mei. Your friends need you! I want to sneak out and head for the house, using any cover that makes sense.
Mei, it certainly isn't going to be easy, sneaking around to the back of the house. The soldiers you see are at the front of the house, and you'll have to be very stealthy or very clever to get around them from your position on the docks.
Difficulty: d10 (the ground is very open, you're bound to be pretty exposed)
(Rolled: 1d10. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
Soldiers: d10 (there's lots of them, and they're good)
(Rolled: 1d10. Rolls: 2. Total: 2)
Sprained Foot: d6
(Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
Ksenia is Captured: d8
(Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 8. Total: 8)
I'm not going to add a die for being barefoot, because you'll mostly be moving across sand, so it's not that big a deal.
Duty - d10 - They think taking hostages is the Space Corps way? I'll show them what a person of character does.
Security - d8 - I'm stealthy and clever.
Natural Athlete - d8 - I'm also quick and graceful.
Zoo - d8 - Woman down. She needs help.
Snake without a Head - d6 - Use their confusion, Mei.
Security - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
Natural Athlete - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 6. Total: 6)
Ksenia - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 6. Total: 6)
Snake without a Head - (Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 1. Total: 1)
Mei, as you consider your approach, you realize that you've been unconsciously dismissing the water as an angle of attack. You prepare, and slip into the water, swimming silently below the surface and emerging around a little point of land, out of sight of the men and women at the front of the house. From there, it's a matter of minutes to make your way to the back of the house. Strangely, there is only one man back here, keeping lookout, and he presents no challenge once you sneak within feet of him. You leave him on the ground, restrained and gagged.
As soon as you open the back door, you realize the reason that only one man was outside. You hear several low voices further in, in the direction of the interior door that leads to the Great Room. To your immediate left is the kitchen, and a bit up on the right is the staff dining room. From this angle, you can just see the shoulder of a uniformed man, and one of the staff restrained in a chair.
The overland part of the trip did stress your already stressed ankle. I'll buy that 1 with a PP to up the complication for your foot to a d8.
The joy of the water is fantastic but short-lived. I take a careful few minutes to wring as much of the water out of my clothes and hair before I advance. My ankle will remind me of this tomorrow, I can tell. I might need two massages.
Inside, I crouch down low, my back to the wall. I pull out the sidearm and check it carefully. The scent of roast pork still lingers in the air, mixing unpleasantly with the cordite, a reminder of how fast the world can change.
I swallow, close my eyes tight for a second to take a deep breath. The weapon is ready. My finger is alongside the barrel. I listen.
Mei, you're guessing that the team here was six. The one out back, one in with the staff, and four further in, planning to take the back door into the Great Room and provide some support for the fire team outside. The hallway is wide, so you won't have the advantage of taking them on one at a time if they realize you're here.
You feel a fuzzy but intense sense of pain from Ksenia, but you still can't make any sort of meaningful connection.
What do you do?
I don't want to do this.
I look at the sidearm, ugly thing that it is. But it's a tool, Mei. They should hesitate. Hostages are their angle, their leverage on the Polity board and the Agira council. But one or two less... troublesome loose ends might be cleaner.
I creep down the little hallway, slowly, slowly, eyes on that shoulder. I concentrate to make myself as small as possible. In a moment, I'll spring around the corner and train my weapon on the soldier. My breathing is rapid. My pulse is up. This isn't a pleasant excitement.
Almost there... almost there... If there's just one...
Ksenia probably studies a whole little black book of badass one-liners. All I've got is "Don't move, asshole!" Finger on the trigger. You mean business, Mei. Think of your friends. Forget the whole Polity for a second. Spheres will still turn without Agira. Think of the Jane and her crew.
...pounce!
"Freeze! Quiet!" I hiss, weapon pointed at the merc.
Mei, there's just one, and she looks to be about your age as her eyes widen, facing your weapon. She moves her empty hands out to the side, palms facing you. Her rifle is on its sling across her back and her sidearm is holstered but not secured.
The staff's eyes are wide as well. Ten of them in this room, all bound, but not uncomfortably tightly.
What do you do?
"Hands behind your head. Now turn around, slowly! I'll cut the binders on the nearest staff member and hand him the tool. Nod for him to free the others.
Then I'll approach the merc. "Don't try anything funny. Is the paycheck worth it?" I'm going to bind her wrists behind her head first, then walk her to a chair. Whichever staff member is next closest gets to help me bind her to a chair and disarm her. One of the fine embroidered linen napkins will be large enough to fashion a gag.
The radio, get the radio.
What staff are with me? Who have I interacted with in the last couple days? Who's holding up and who's close to the edge?
Mei, it goes as you said. The soldier is bound, the staff isn't. Most of the staff retains the professionally calm demeanor you've come to expect in the last few days, but one young lady is crying quietly, being comforted by an older woman. They must work in the kitchen, you haven't seen either of them.
Among the rest, you've interacted most with Captain Sinnott, who isn't staff, strictly speaking, but does mostly stick to his own little apartment in the staff quarters. A young man named Jason has been your guide to the natural beauty of Ainhoa Island—he's fit and athletic, and seems to be keeping a cool head. Among the rest, most are in pretty decent shape, but you don't really have a sense of how they will react when the bacon hits the pan.
"Sinnott, Jason, I'm going to see to the others. You lot stay here, keep an ear on the radio. An all-clear from me is haricot vert. Anything else from me means something's not right, exercise caution.." Really, Mei? That doesn't conform to the Space Corps standards of operational security code words. "Is anyone comfortable with slugthrowers?" The rifle, sidearm are on the table. Anything else notable in her pockets?
Four more inside, Mei. My mouth feels dry.
Mei, Sinnott indicates that he's comfortable with the guns, and one of the women nods as well. You haven't really interacted with her previously, but she tells you her name is Marisol. The staff seems fairly calm as you leave the room and continue creeping further into the house. As you near the four soldiers, you can hear that they are quietly coordinating with someone at the front of the building. The sound of gunfire, sporadic and sharp, comes to your ears.
You feel a sudden, sharp burst of pain from Ksenia, followed a few seconds later by another. Her pain becomes a constant, low-level hum in the back of your mind, but still you seem unable to form a meaningful link with your lover.
Her pain eats at me. But it's a fire that drives. I know those four are going for my friends and the other guests.
Ksenia's feelings spark an idea that I don't want to rely on. I've already wielded pleasure against this snake's head... it might be time to try pain on its body.
Shit, shit, shit.
Whispering, "Okay, there's only four mercs about to trap Pierre and the rest. We've got the drop on them. Sinnott, Marisol, ready? We got this."
I hope this works.
Mei, from that point things happen fast. Sinnott and Marisol follow, borrowing some of the confidence you're trying to project (even if you're not feeling it so strongly at the moment). You three burst around the corner. As you do, you hear an order over the radio. "Stand down. Stand down!" At just that moment, they notice you and your backup with your weapons drawn and coming fast.
What do you do?
Standing down?! I keep the confusion off my face. Stay in charge, Mei!
I bark, "Hands in the air, now!" If Ksenia could hear me deliver that line... it's from one of her movies.
Mei, here's the thing. You've got the discipline to check yourself, evaluate the new information, but the two civilians with you don't have your training. Asking for a roll here, to manage your "team." I'm going to roll some dice, and here's the stakes. If you beat me, neither of your helpers pulls a trigger before the soldiers respond to your demand, nor do the soldiers react to the threat. If not, shit gets real.
CHALLENGE
Difficulty: d8 (It could be worse. The soldiers are fish in a barrel at the moment, and they know it.)
(Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 8. Total: 8)
Four Soldiers: d8 (Instincts and training say "Respond to the threat.")
(Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
Untested Backup: d8 (What does "comfortable with guns" mean in this situation?)
(Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 4. Total: 4)
Ksenia is Captured: d8 (Still feeling her pain, although the "signal" is clearing somewhat.)
(Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
Bravery - d6 - I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.
Leader - d6 - I'm actually leading people into battle! Well, hopefully not an actual battle.
Plucky - d8 - Barefoot and outnumbered, I'm still in it to win it.
Snake without a Head - d6 - Without a leader, they need to listen to someone.
Sinnott and Marisol - d6 - Backup is backup.
Leader - (Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 1. Total: 1)
Plucky - (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
Snake without a Head - (Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 2. Total: 2)
Sinnott and Marisol - (Rolled: 1d6. Rolls: 1. Total: 1)
I am the very model of a Big Damn Hero right now.
(Rolled: 1d10. Rolls: 5. Total: 5)
One of the mercs instinctively responds to the honed edge of command in my voice, and he drops his rifle and thrusts his hands into the air. The female merc inadvertently lets out a frustrated noise at the rookie's action. Three on three, now.
One of the others has made a furtive, preemptive motion as though he's going to try something funny. I retarget on him and don't blink. "You've got your orders, twitchy. Stand down." He throws his weapons to one side and complies.
Captain Sinnot's a little twitchy himself, and the female merc is holding steady but she has fire in her eyes. She wants him to fire, I can tell, she's itching for action in that way I've seen K look sometimes. "Steady, steady." I say low. "We can still all go home to morning fishing." Sinnot steadies himself, eyes a bit distant. He tightens his aim and says in his captain voice, "You heard her, hands up!" The merc slowly sets her weapons down, still challenging. But her empty hands are in the air.
Marisol gives the merc on the right a dirty look, her aim angled down. "Try it and I'll shoot 'em off, asshole." Her merc blanches and drops his weapons, holding them out very distinctly.
Between the three of us, we quickly have the four mercs subdued, disarmed, and de-radioed. Marisol and Sinnot will take them back to the staff kitchen for guarding.
I find my hope and let it fill me.
I peek through the crack in the doors to the Great Room.
Mei, the shooting has stopped. No sounds other than vaguely heard male sobbing and indistinct words in Ayala's rich baritone. Through the crack, you have very limited view of the room. You're going to have to take a chance on entering if you want to fully grok the situation. What do you do?
I grok in fullness.
I enter the room, wary.
The room is quiet. You can see through the windows that the soldiers outside have backed off several paces and shipped their weapons. Ayala's up and talking through one of the broken windows to the soldiers, but most of the attention in the room is on someone lying on the floor, badly hurt but alive. Who is it, Mei?
It's Premier Lovejoy! My eyes are wide with realization, and I holster my weapon. How are Zoo and Dinah? I want to hug them both and I miss Ksenia.
No wonder the sudden stand down. If he dies, that's a major chip off their hostage list. The political implications are huge, to say nothing of what nonsense they hoped to accomplish with the Agira negotiations. Killing the Keikan leader would garner Polity support amongst the Independent Worlds. I've only had a few polisci courses, but I can see the dominoes fall.
"Pierre," I say as I approach Lovejoy, Upshaw attending him,"The staff are all fine. I've got six... no, eight, more mercs are down and secured." I have some basic field medico skills, but this is beyond me. I work keep my voice steady. "Any word on Ksenia? We were, ah, separated. Is anyone else unaccounted for?"
"Dr. Upshaw...?" I ask, meeting his eyes. How bad is it?