Session 1 10

Level Three Academy looms to all sides. Your route - through the medical wing to the base of the Department of Military Science - is set. Any preparations before you forge ahead?
Spyboy Pearson borrowed a sidearm from Zinda; he takes a covering stance for B-4
Abraham takes yet another look at his gun's charge level and it still reads a full charge.
[OOC] Hrrin: What does our arsenal look like?
Zinda Tegram puts the case down on the floor.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: It's a supply kit for boarding. Torches, sidearms, carbines, and some personal anti-ship cannons.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Smoke grenades too
Abraham: "Okay, I have to ask since I've never gone into a firefight with any of you, but how many of you have had people shooting at you? Outside of a fighter?"
Zinda Tegram raises her hand.
Abraham is specifically looking at Spyboy and B4.
Hrrin: "A few times."
Spyboy Pearson: "Whenever things looked like they were going south when we were kids we just ran."
[OOC] Hrrin: Ah, a carbine is a somewhat more cut-down rifle or longarm, suitable for urban warfare or more confined environments.
Abraham: "I see. All right. Just part of my need to know."
Zinda Tegram: "I've got no experience with tanks. Heaviest thing you see boarding is power armor."
Abraham smiles ruefully. "Neither have I. I'm trying very hard to think of it as a learning experience."
Hrrin: "Have worked on tanks before."
Abraham: "Any advice?"
Hrrin considers. An overbuilt kilrathi vehicle for assault and conquest will be a bit different than what the Lago might want, but…
Hrrin: "Piercing that armor? Not worth it to try without our own ordnance. Jamming or disabling its movement is valuable, but easier than said than done."
Hrrin: "But crew and sensors are easy places to save a little cash."
Hrrin: "If built for urban, indoor, environments…doesn't need to pack the same oomph, maybe. Maybe. Nasty for infantry like us is bad enough, even if it wouldn't be the best at targeting other armored cavalry.."
Zinda Tegram: "What if I we stole one?"
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Forgot to put ellipses there.
Zinda Tegram flicks on her boarding torch.
Hrrin: "…"
Hrrin: "Are there any problems you -don't- solve with that thing?"
Zinda Tegram: "A few."
[OOC] WC GM: It works great for fixing broken hearts?
Hrrin throws up her hands. Sure, whatever! "If you can't solve a problem by shooting it, or piloting something, you cut holes in things until you can, huh?"
Zinda Tegram: "Well, sometimes I use these."
Zinda Tegram pulls a remote explosive out of the case.
Zinda Tegram: "Not sure they'd be appropriate here."
Hrrin face-palms. You can just see the end of a resigned ear-droop inside her helmet.
Hrrin: "Moving on!" She selects the carbine of choice from Zinda's weapon locker, and turns to the rest of the group. "Good? All in readiness?"
Zinda Tegram pulls the anti-ship cannon out.
Zinda Tegram: "Between this and my torch I should be good."
Zinda Tegram: "Oh, wait."
Zinda Tegram pulls some smoke-grenades out of the case.
[OOC] Hrrin: I'm starting to feel like 'Zinda's Weapons Locker' might at some point become an appropriate stunt or aspect.
Hrrin: "Aahh. There we go."
[OOC] WC GM: Indeed.
Zinda Tegram starts cycling view modes on her pressure suit.
Zinda Tegram: "Please tell me these are the ones with thermal…"
[OOC] WC GM: Moving on?
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Giving you a chance to say 'No'
[OOC] WC GM: Of course you have thermal view on your suit. But you really should stat it up and put it on your character sheet.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Yeah I think I to start statting all this out.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Ready on this end then.
[OOC] Hrrin: I am ready as I'll be.
[OOC] Abraham: ^. I am as good as Hrrin is going to be.
And so the party gets going. They get more than a few stares - being the only non-lagos present will do that - but they look like they know where they are going, and so are allowed to proceed.
Besides, the hospital - whatever the academic name and justification for this area, it is obviously a hospital - is not exactly a high-security area.
Elevators make much of the trip go by quick. Now their route, according to the map, leads through a lobby - probably some place wide open, possibly a waiting room…
…the party enters…
…or possibly a ward filled with bunks, all occupied.
This looks like a field hospital one might set up next to a war zone. Most of the patients convalesce in silence; off in the corner, a child - probably a girl - whines to an adult female sitting by her bedside.
Spyboy Pearson doubletakes.
The whining is in lago, but the gist of, "Mommy, it hurts," comes across clearly.
Zinda Tegram looks straight ahead to avoid dwelling on the implications.
This is definitely the right room. Decor shoved to the sides long ago attests to the former purpose of this place.
Hrrin scans the room. Shit, they could have expected this. Are so many Lagos really being hurt by the actions of a few?
Abraham looks ashen, then he sets his jaw and continues. You don't /quite/ hear a grinding sound.
Before they get a quarter of the way through, a shout comes from the other side. The mood in the room chills, palpable fear running through most of the patients.
Abraham looks towards the shouter.
Spyboy Pearson: "Sounds like….angel? Something like that? Coming through. I really hope they're not here for the fallen…"
The shout came from beyond the far door - which opens, admitting a white trenchcoated lago with a face-concealing mask, that looks more ceremonial than functional.
Zinda Tegram: "Spyboy."
Hrrin: "We are not here to reap the ailing and hurt, nor to carry the dead to their final hunting ground."
Spyboy Pearson: "Not us, Hrrin. Him."
Spyboy Pearson: "And they look scared of him."
Hrrin refocuses. Who is the man in white? What is he carrying?
Abraham responds in a perfectly flat voice. "Yes. They do."
The 'angel' walks from bed to bed, examining charts at their feet. When he passes by, there is relief - but every so often, he walks up to the patient and…you can't quite see what he does from this distance, but there is a line of red along the patient's neck, then the angel steps back and the bed drops through the floor, soon returning sans patient.
Spyboy Pearson calls out in Lagosian. "Excuse me, who are you?"
Abraham: "I think I know."
The angel ignores Spyboy, but another patient nearby mutters, loud enough for Spyboy to hear.
Spyboy Pearson: "What I thought. Triage in the most brutal form."
Hrrin: "It wasn't unknown in Kilrah's military hospitals. And, with their population…" Hrrin is whispering. She understands. She knows this. Doesn't mean it's good.
The angel works the line, bed to bed. He has not even gotten halfway before fresh patients are carried, by orderlies who had been waiting just outside, into the newly empty-beds.
Hrrin: "Hospitals weren't really known as a place you went to get better."
Hrrin: "Not for commoner or low noble clans."
The girl is among the angel's victims - eliciting a fresh series of howls from her attending adult. The angel shoots her a look; she nods. He motions near her neck, she slumps, and the bed cycles her to follow the girl.
Hrrin: "Let's go before we do something stupid."
One of the patients speaks in Terran. "You. The invaders are come. The invaders are come to take us away?"
Zinda Tegram ignores him.
The patients nearby begin to murmur, as those able to do so focus their eyes on the party.
Abraham goes to the terran-speaking patient. Inflection and intonation have returned to his voice. "No. No we are not here to take you away. I'm sorry."
Patient: "No take away? Then what…?"
Hrrin: To avoid eye-contact, Hrrin looks at the charts. Anything to understand?
Zinda Tegram: "That's classified."
Zinda Tegram steps towards the relevant door.
[OOC] WC GM: Medical skill check to interpret the charts.
Spyboy Pearson takes a closer look at a chart…
Spyboy Pearson rolled up 4dF: - - - - (Base: 2 Total: -2) (Medicine)
Hrrin rolled up 4dF: - + 0 0 (Base: 0 Total: 0) (Medicine)
Spyboy Pearson spends a Fate point and Invokes 'That's Why I'm Not The Pilot' for a reroll
Spyboy Pearson rolled up 4dF: 0 + - + (Base: 2 Total: 3) (Medicine)
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: You don't need an aspect to reroll.
Abraham spends a long moment studying the lights in the celing before looking down at the patient. "We are here for another reason. A different purpose, but one we hope will help in it's own way. I'm sorry."
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: According to the book I do.
BBBB is able to make sense of the data: malnutrition, depression, fatigue, and a bullet through the stomach for good measure. It's a minor miracle this patient has lived this long.
[OOC] WC GM: BBBB being the reader, if that aspect was invoked.
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: I meant that Spyboy's the payload. =p
[OOC] WC GM: Anyway, we're about to get a compel of Zinda's "Sworn to uphold Justice".
[OOC] WC GM: For the record.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Still working out exactly what she'll do.
[OOC] Abraham: Oh dear.
Zinda Tegram leans back. To the patient on the bed: "Is this place because of the military science department?"
The patient frowns a bit, cogitating the words, then nods. "That is where…" He taps his belly.
Zinda Tegram: "They're dead. They're all dead."
Zinda Tegram stomps towards the door and opens it.
The door is open - orderlies with patients were coming through. They make way for Zinda.
Zinda Tegram mutters under her breath. "Just like home…Just like home…why is it always like this!?"
Abraham sighs. He hasn't known Zinda long, but he knows what those stomps mean. "Excuse me." He rushes after Zinda.
The hall beyond has signs written in Lago. It is not hard to guess which way her destination is, though, since wounded lagos are stacked up in one direction.
Spyboy Pearson: "Treat the problem, not the symptom, Zinda. We fix Elles, all this goes away. Ish."
Hrrin spares one last pained look at the triage ward, and follows after.
Spyboy Pearson follows with B^4, pistol in hand
Ahead is…cheering?
Zinda Tegram flicks her thermal visor on and starts looking for targets.
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: + 0 + + (Base: 5 Total: 8) (Alertness (Tagging 'sworn to uphold justice'))
Wounded, wounded, they are starting to trail off…and then the corridor empties out. It branches off, but a prominent door lies ahead, brighter light spilling out above and below it.
[OOC] Abraham: Chessa to is sworn to uphold justice.
Hrrin furrows brow at Pearson's plea. Is this actually Elles' fault? It's a symptom of overpopulation in scare resources, but Elles' goal is…hrr, another time.
Abraham catches up to Zinda and grabs her arm. "Zinda. Stop. Now."
Zinda Tegram shakes Abraham off.
Zinda Tegram: "Don't."
Hrrin has by this point caught up. "Zinda Tegram, you are running into a battlezone with a head full of rage. Is this wise?"
Spyboy Pearson: "…..Shit."
Zinda Tegram keeps walking.
Abraham: "Don't what? Don't let my friend run into a fight without her head in the game?"
Zinda Tegram: "I'll be fine."
Abraham circles around Zinda and stands in front of her.
Zinda Tegram closes her eyes. "Abraham."
Spyboy Pearson: "Zinda, I know exactly what you want, but I'm not taking Heggy in there unless we have to."
Abraham: "No. You might live, but you won't be fine."
Zinda Tegram keeps eyes closed and flicks her torch on and off.
Explosions sound on the other side of the door, followed by another round of cheers.
Zinda Tegram looks back at the door.
Zinda Tegram: "It's a coliseum. Haven't you looked?"
Zinda Tegram: "It's sick."
Hrrin 's ears flick towards the door. Cheering. What?
The door stands there impassively, with not a care in the world. It does not appear to be locked.
Hrrin: Curiosity hasn't killed this cat yet. Hrrin looks through the window. Or cracks it to peek through.
Zinda Tegram glares at Abraham. I'm not going to enter. don't worry.
Zinda Tegram walks up to the wall beside the door.
Zinda Tegram stabs the wall with her torch.
Abraham: "No. I haven't looked, but I can hear and you are probably right."
When Hrrin cracks the door - light spills through for a moment, followed by the unmistakable scent of spent ordinance.
Abraham: "So what, exactly, is your plan?"
Spyboy Pearson stands, holstering his pistol and lost in thought.
Zinda Tegram: "I've got some C4, but if that place is what I think it is…they've got enough explosives to level at least the floor."
Then…Hrrin sees what might once have been a reception hall, but has been marred by countless bullet holes and craters.
Zinda Tegram: "We're going to break the rules."
Spyboy Pearson: "Do we have to get exposed to fire to do that?"
The ceiling is unscratched, and transparent. Cheering comes from beyond it.
Zinda Tegram laughs.
Zinda Tegram: "Sort of."
[OOC] Hrrin: Can I see the audience up there?
The audience is not visible - but clearly present.
[OOC] WC GM: - you're just south of Entrance Center.
Zinda Tegram takes a smoke grenade and rolls it inside.
[OOC] Hrrin: Niiiicely detailed map!
The area is soon filled with smoke.
[OOC] WC GM: I figured it'd do for today, no?
Zinda Tegram kicks the door open and charges into the smoke.
[OOC] Abraham: What's the scale?
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: Zones =p
Abraham sighs and goes after her.
[OOC] WC GM: Zones. Platoon combat, specifically.
Hrrin is right behind, weapon ready.
[OOC] Abraham: Ah. So abstracted then.
B^4 follows. Cursing, Pearson draws his pistol again follows her.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Is it an open area?
B^4: "I'm a fighter pilot. I'm not afraid of bullets."
Spyboy Pearson: "Well, you damn well should be!"
Abraham: "I'm a fighter pilot to, and I'm terrified of bullets."
Zinda Tegram: "Stick to the smoke and run thermal! We're gonna find the supports and blow them to hell!"
The entrance is mostly open. Remnants of furniture - sofas, a desk that has stood up rather well, facades that have been torn down for impromptu cover - are scattered around.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Any large support columns?
Abraham rigs up a handkerchief mask for the smoke.
[OOC] WC GM: Nope. The walls may be load-bearing…or not, given the amount of damage they have taken.
Hrrin has, indeed, activated thermal imaging. "What, you don't want to go upstairs and murder everyone?"
Zinda Tegram: "We're going to level the whole thing above us! Once we have the communicators, Elles can dig us out!"
[OOC] Hrrin: This is an -extensive- underground structure, as is most Lago construction. Collapses would not be easy, I would thing.
Zinda Tegram: "They're dead!"
An announcer - even in an alien tongue, announcers over PA are announcers over PA - calls something out.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Anything falls, given enough boom.
Hrrin: "Sivar's bloody teeth! You are *not* collapsing *anything* with me inside it. No no no."
Spyboy Pearson: "Watch yourselves - we're officially in the competition."
Hrrin: "Any odds yet?"
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: We're in the lobby?
[OOC] WC GM: Entrance Center.
[OOC] WC GM: You just came in from off-map.
Zinda Tegram charges to the edge of the smoke, still inside, and drops another one out into the lobby.
[OOC] WC GM: Entrance West & East are merely a bit of a walk away. Reception was where people went from here. Lobby used to be walled off from the entrance, but the holes are big enough that you can just step through.
Zinda Tegram: "Spyboy! What's the PA saying?"
Spyboy Pearson: "I can't follow it over the cheering- last I heard was 'unknown entry.'"
[OOC] WC GM: Going into the Lobby, or elsewhere?
Hrrin: "Either way: our goal here isn't to win their wargame. It's to recover Elles' comm devices."
Hrrin: "Alternately, blood, fire, and vengeance."
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Toss a sensor ball in.
Zinda Tegram unclips a sensor ball and tosses it into the smoke.
The lobby seems to be empt-no, wait, over there, a squad of soldiers, with their backs to the group save for one nervously scanning the smoke.
The rest seem to be keeping their eye on a bigger threat.
Zinda Tegram runs the sensor feed to the rest of the party.
Hrrin: "I love a good ambush. Yes? No?"
Zinda Tegram crouches and leans around to aim her cannon at the one watching the smoke. "Spyboy, Confirm the contents of that reception hall."
Spyboy Pearson looks at the pictures.
[OOC] WC GM: Reception or Lobby?
Zinda Tegram: "After this shot, I want to fall back. Whatever else they're looking at should take advantage of the shot. Just make sure we have a clean escape."
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Reception.
Spyboy Pearson: "They look like soldiers to me….I'm starting to really wish I knew what they were looking at that a group of total unknowns behind them isn't a threat."
The reception area sports the smoking remains of two tanks.
The soldiers bolt suddenly - heading away from the smoke and where they were looking (to Simulator Arcade).
[OOC] WC GM: They were looking in the direction of Blasted Halls, which you can not see from Entrance Center.
Hrrin: "Someone saw an opening."
Zinda Tegram: "Hold position."
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: The sensor ball has no targets?
No sooner are the words out of Zinda's lips than incoming fire blasts new craters in the lobby - including one right where the soldiers were. The sensor ball fails to survive.
Zinda Tegram: "Figured."
Zinda Tegram throws another smoke grenade further in, trying to angle it into the blasted halls.
Zinda Tegram: "Wait for the next explosion, then we're gonna push."
Hrrin: "How many of those have you got, anyhow?"
Zinda Tegram: "Quite a few."
Zinda Tegram: "Standard doctrine is nine, but most of us never found that to be enough."
The halls are a bit further than Zinda can throw easily from here.
Zinda Tegram mutters. Damn.
Zinda Tegram points her cannon at the rough direction the sensor-ball feed showed the explosive shell come from.
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: 0 + + + (Base: 3 Total: 6) (Gunnery)
Zinda Tegram rocks back a bit under the recoil.
Zinda Tegram: "We're moving."
Zinda can not see if her shot hit or missed, which probably means it missed.
[OOC] Hrrin: Goddamn, Chessa.
Footsteps from the right, then a combat yell - the soldiers from earlier come running up, guns down, knives in hand…and stop short, their yells cutting off in clear confusion.
[OOC] Abraham: Told you. Chessa is the hammer of justice.
Zinda Tegram throws a smoke grenade into reception and runs for one of the tanks to take cover.
Abraham keeps up with Zinda.
The soldiers are wearing masks that could credibly be termed "stylized" Terran - and one barely-recognizeable-as Kilrathi-like.
Spyboy Pearson: "….imitators?"
The soldiers look at one another, lower their weapons, and run to follow Zinda.
[OOC] WC GM: Assuming the other PCs follow Zinda/Abraham?
[OOC] Hrrin: Indeed. Squaddies stay together.
Hrrin: "What the fuck."
Zinda Tegram: "It's a trick."
Spyboy Pearson: "I think we have fans."
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Do they ping on thermal?
[OOC] WC GM: Yep. You just weren't looking in that direction until they ran up.
Abraham: "No, it's people making due with what they can get."
Soldier: "Identify! Reinforcements?" Then the soldier mutters in Lago.
[OOC] WC GM: "Identify! Reinforcements?" was in Terran.
[OOC] WC GM: The soldier also said something else in Lago.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: The suits don't resemble ours do they?
Spyboy Pearson: "….they think we're in costume."
Hrrin: "Well, of course we are! We aren't certainly being imitated."
Zinda Tegram: "They're players?"
Abraham: "Oh god. We're a fad."
More Lago from the announcer.
Hrrin: "I told you; gossip is faster than jump drives in a place like this. Play along!"
Zinda Tegram makes an angry sound in her throat.
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: + - - - (Base: 3 Total: 1) (Gunnery)
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Fatepoint to re-roll.
Spyboy Pearson: "Announcers think we're on their team, too, cuz we haven't shot them. Looks like it's called the invader team."
[OOC] WC GM: …Gunnery for throat sounds?
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: 0 - + 0 (Base: 3 Total: 3)
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Angry. Zinda's shooting them.
WC GM rolled up 4dF: + 0 + - (Base: 1 Total: 2)
Zinda Tegram: "We're not part of your sick game!"
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Take a compel for it?
Zinda pegs a few of them; they dive for cover at the last minute, and shout complaints.
[OOC] WC GM: Yeah, that's enough for compel.
Hrrin shoves at Zinda. "What the fuck are you trying to accomplish?"
Zinda Tegram: "I'm not going to be complicit in this!"
Hrrin: "Putting holes in the thugs on the ground won't solve this problem!"
Hrrin: "Why are you turning down what could be help? Who could be allies!?"
Zinda Tegram unclips her boarding torch and points it at Hrrin. "Allies?! They're part of -this-!"
Zinda Tegram: "I won't rest until it's all torn down! All of it!"
Zinda Tegram: "And if you try to stop me, you're part of it too!"
The soldiers look at one another, confused.
Abraham sighs and pushes Zinda's hand so it's not pointing at Hrrin.
Abraham: "Enough. We have enough enemies without making more amongst ourselves."
One of the soldiers lifts his mask and spouts more Lago.
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: 0 0 + - (Base: 1 Total: 1) (resolve)
Abraham: "However, Zinda, if we get through this I am going to recommend you take some interpersonal communications classes."
Hrrin: "Right. And -enemies- that think they are your -friends- are valuable."
Zinda Tegram grinds her teeth.
Hrrin: "You can always backstab someone later."
Spyboy Pearson: "Ah."
Spyboy Pearson: "So you know, they agree with you."
Spyboy Pearson: "…..Wait."
Zinda Tegram spits. "Spyboy.Let them know I won't shoot them now. But I'm not their friend, and I'm definitely not their 'team'."
Spyboy Pearson: "So THAT's what the announcer meant."
Spyboy Pearson: "….he meant that they ARE your team."
Spyboy Pearson: "They want to break the game."
Zinda Tegram: "…Ah."
Zinda Tegram: "Well."
Spyboy Pearson turns to the soldiers and asks a question in Lagosian.
Hrrin: Feline aliens are exceptionally good at smug, toothy, smiles.
They shout back at Spyboy, annoyed.
[OOC] Abraham: Hrrin, is that an aspect?
Zinda Tegram breathes out and inhales again, trying to get her head back in the game.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: The wall to the security station. How is it?
[OOC] WC GM: About like the other walls you've seen here. A little more difficult to move through, though. Also, the floor is a bit deeper. The fighting has been heavier here.
[OOC] Hrrin: …y'know, it should be.
Zinda Tegram takes another sensor ball and smoke grenade and throws them through the wall.
The soldier blinks.
Soldier: "…er." He points. "…real?"
Zinda Tegram: "Yes."
The squad looks, and dawning comprehension crosses their faces.
[OOC] Abraham: Abraham cooly polishes his buttons on his uniform. He's use to it.
Zinda, meanwhile, gets a good look at a lot of dead lago, and numerous cover positions.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: What's the cover made from?
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: Mostly dead lago
[OOC] WC GM: You name it. Bits of wall and furniture, rock, armor slabs - and, yes, dead lago, some of them dead so long they're skeletons.
[OOC] WC GM: You're probably glad you're in suits, given the decomposing parts of the cover.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Does thermal mark anything as occupied?
[OOC] WC GM: Hard to tell. Many of the still-warm bodies are clearly dead…assuming lagos can not survive without heads or half their torsos.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Going around apparently.
Zinda Tegram transmits. "That's a killzone, we're going around."
Zinda Tegram smokes/sensors the office to the west.
This office is surprisingly neat and orderly! Only a few bullet holes, and no dead bodies (yet).
No one else is inside.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: What about the wall to the dorms?
[OOC] WC GM: Mostly intact. People just used the doors.
[OOC] WC GM: Though there is one tank-sized hole.
Zinda Tegram: "Spyboy! What can those tag-a-longs tell us about their tanks?"
Soldier: "Tanks? We were going for fresh tanks."
The soldier points…back toward the lobby.
Soldier: "Delivery soon! Intercept!"
Hrrin: "We'll have to get there first and snatch them."
Soldier: "Yes yes!"
Zinda Tegram: "Copy."
Soldier: "Come!" He runs for the lobby, followed by his squad.
Zinda Tegram sets the sensor balls to ping her if they detect movement and follows the Lagos.
[OOC] WC GM: Agility checks, everyone.
Hrrin rolled up 4dF: - - - + (Base: 3 Total: 1) (Agility)
[OOC] Hrrin: ..oh COME ON.
[OOC] Hrrin: FP re-roll.
Spyboy Pearson rolled up 4dF: 0 0 - 0 (Base: 0 Total: -1) (Agility)
Hrrin rolled up 4dF: 0 + - + (Base: 3 Total: 4) (Agility)
Abraham rolled up 4dF: 0 - - 0 (Base: 1 Total: -1) (Agility)
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: - 0 + 0 (Base: 2 Total: 2)
Abraham rolled up 4dF: - - - - (Base: 1 Total: -3) (Agility)
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Fate-points for re-rolls. Do it.
[OOC] WC GM: How many FP does Abraham have left?
[OOC] Abraham: FP reroll
Abraham rolled up 4dF: + + + 0 (Base: 1 Total: 4) (Agility)
[OOC] Abraham: Finally got the damn reroll in.
[OOC] WC GM: Is Spyboy FP rerolling too?
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: Odds say it wouldn't help and I can't think of an Aspect that would let me.
[OOC] Hrrin: re-rolls just require a FP, no aspect.
[OOC] WC GM: I can see three of your aspects that would apply, anyway.
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: Then WC needs to put that as a house rule on his page.
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: Cuz without a house rule, yes, they require an Aspect.
[OOC] WC GM: I haven't house ruled on that - and it's irrelevant in this case.
Spyboy Pearson glances at Zinda, blanches, and accelerates.
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: Tagging 'Zinda's Pretty Good With That Towcable.'
Zinda Tegram grabs Spyboy and tries to pull him along with her.
[OOC] WC GM: Taking the +2, or rolling?
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: +2. Rerolling is only really worth it on -4 and -3…
[OOC] Spyboy Pearson: Well, unless you get lucky.
Incoming fire! Zinda barely pulls Spyboy out of the way, so the birth of a crater behind him merely pushes him into her.
The group winds up among banks of simulators - some trashed, some still working. The soldiers are carefully making their way among the working ones, waving for the party to follow.
Zinda Tegram: "Careful!"
Zinda Tegram returns fire before continuing.
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: 0 - - + (Base: 3 Total: 2) (Gunnery)
There is the satisfying "ping" of her shots bouncing off armor.
Zinda Tegram throws smoke and a sensor ball to try and get a better picture of the tank.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Before running for cover obviously.
The smoke grenade and sensor ball are sniped out of the air.
She does get a good look at the tank while the ball is en route, though. It looks like a non-trashed version of the ones she saw in Reception.
It is also set up to survey surrounding areas. It is probably the source of that security station killzone.
Zinda Tegram grins. Found you.
Its location is probably why the soldiers are squeezing around the back of the arcade, making for Vehicle Bay North.
Zinda Tegram pops open her cannon and pushes another battery in to replace the old one.
Soldier: "More invaders coordinating. Stealth strike, grab all resupply, all new tanks."
Zinda Tegram carefully aims the cannon at the position where the flat of the tank's armor should be. "Let's see you take this one!"
Zinda Tegram: "One more shot."
Zinda does not have a line of sight from Simulator Arcade.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Oh darn.
[OOC] WC GM: Unless you've been staying in Lobby, in which case you've been getting shelled a lot.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Yeah I'm good.
Soldier: "You, real invaders? You take charge! Lead us! Help us take down!"
Hrrin: "Zinda, you said you wanted to suborn one of their tanks? Looks like you won't have to cut a hole in it first."
Zinda Tegram habitually smokes/sensors the trophy display as she passes through the arcade on her way to the Vehicle bay. "That's fine."
[OOC] WC GM: Resolve check, Zinda.
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: - + 0 - (Base: 1 Total: 0) (Resolve)
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Tagging 'Hundred-Eyed-Demon'. Zinda's seen some pretty awful stuff.
Zinda may be grateful that she can slap a censor on the data feed she's relaying.
Zinda Tegram: "That's…that's sick."
A few of the trophies are clearly mechanical - the AI's work? A mining drone of some sort. Lago writing is scrawled underneath.
Automatic translation eventually overlays: "Freedom Bot" "Freedom is death. Obey your Marshal!"
Hrrin: "Freedom is death?"
Hrrin: "Are…are they keeping Lago away from Elles?"

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