/tg/Station 13

Bottom post of the previous page:

Your sensors pick up an anomaly some 1,200km out from your arrival point. You're lucky you didn't land on top of it. Your sensors describe a large, hollow structure with very limited eletrical and thermal activity.

Looking out your window you see it for yourselves, a large derelict spacestation drifting through the vast emptiness of space. You're REALLY lucky you didn't land on top of it, or in its path.

Cyrus activates inertial dampeners and begins to slow the ship as it approaches the anomaly

"Based on the readings this could be a hulled wreck of an old ship. I am gonna take us in closer, might be something we can salvage. Keep scanning for anything else in the area, might be a fresh kill."

Your passengers become very irate and threaten to get your ship black-listed from transporting fares when they notice you diverting from the agreed upon course.

Probably best to log the location of this thing and return when you're free from any current responsibilities. Unless you don't mind the consequences.

((12,000km is pretty small in astronautical units right? Would it set us back more than say an hour to do a closeish flyby for a slightly closer look?))

((You're already close enough for the closest look))

((Fair enough))

"On second thought we should probably come out to salvage this another time, these people paid good coin for a fast trip. Mac, save those coordinates in the nav computer. I will bring us planetward."

((What is our distance from the starport, and how long with it take us to get there?))

((14,000,000km, as mentioned previously. Should take your ship just shy of 25 hours of flight under optimal conditions.))

((Awesome))

Cyrus activates the ship PA system

"Hello everyone, this is the captain speaking. We have successfully dropped out of jumpspace right close to Prillissa, we should be there in roughly a solar day, assuming smooth sailing. I will let you know when you should begin disembarking procedures."

"Goddamn, don't know how I missed that thing the first time. Shouldn't be hard to find again though," Mac says, scratching her head, embarrassed. "Well, I'm gonna head back down to the J-drive and make sure she got outta the jump okay. Let me know if you need me for anything else. Realspace stuff ain't exactly my bag."

"The technological secrets that place may hold could be very beneficial or dangerous depending on who finds it first."

"Yeah, it might be a good idea to take some time and double back after we unload our passengers. On the other hand, it wil set us back 2 days and we are on a time limit. what do you guys think?"

"Let's take care of everythin' planetside first and then see where we stand, then decide if it's worth our time."

((Anything else happen or is our transition to the start port fairly smooth?))

((sorry I'm in a similar situation to Maccus, just really busy with a lot of IRL stuff this week and the next. You make it to port smoothly, your freight and passengers are unloaded without a hitch and you're paid for them. Deduct the berthing fees from the income while you discuss what do to next))

((sorry ment to post sooner))

After about 23 hours of flying, Prillissa 1 has been looking bigger and bigger. Cyrus sets an approach vector for the orbiting starport. As the Mississipi Queen approaches, a bored sounding operator directs the ship to an unused hangar and informs of the berthing fees here (1d6*500 creds, i got a 3 so 1500)

Cyrus guides the ship snugly in the hangar and the pumps make it survivable. The high passengers are in various states of being hungover, and are eager to be at their destinations. The low passengers need to be revived from cryo first (That is Danny's field). A few deckhands come by to unload the freight and pay the shipping, and a station employee collects the berthing fees.

Cyrus lights a cigarette in the hangar. "Ah, so good to breathe that station air again. All said and done we made off with 119700 creds, and that is before the trade goods we brought from Trin. Lets go see what kinda buyers we can find in this ol backwater.

((Whichever daring individual has a stern conscience and the medical skills, it's time to see how many of your six passengers survived the low passage))

Ruggero rubs a hand against the hull of the ship, "Thank you Queen for a safe and expedient arrival." He then goes on to help the haggard and hung-over with any luggage or hair-holding.

Danilo breathes a sigh of relief upon realizing the trip is over, and with it, the end of his undesired "the doctor is IN" role.

"Alright, capullos," he says, heading down towards the cryo berths. "Please don't make my flight any worse."

Intelligence + Medical check six times. One for each popsicle person.

"That enough to cover our first month's payment on the ship?" Mac asks, also helping unload baggage and passengers.

"Nah, our payment is about double that. We still have another few weeks to make it though, hopefully enough time for another run."

(fuck sorry i was on the road all day i'll post/roll when i wake up)

I don't know what the score to pass is (think it's against the passenger's endurance?)

((it gets a bonus based on the passenger's endurance))

Unforunately two passengers of your six have died en-route. You don't feel that you could've done much better for them, but still you can't help but feel partly responsible.
You get 4,800 credits from your low fares, the remaining 2,400 is split amongst the survivors as a lottery.

((I'm sorry for the super late delay in updating you guys, everything is routine now and I should be keeping this on task from now on))

"Well, shit," Mac says, almost sounding sad, "them's the breaks, though. They knew what they were getting into. You couldn'ta done nuthin' for 'em, don't beat yerself up."

((Are there any checks I should make to inspect the ship/perform maintenance?))

"Low berth is a helluva way to go. Lets haul these poor sods off to the trash bay and give em a spacer's funeral next time we leave port. For now, we gotta move these goods and find some more."

((Maintenance is prettymuch just paying the bills when you need to. As long as nothing is breaking, you really don't need to roll anything for it.))

((Okay. Anything I can use my skills for? Look for additional quirks of the ship, tune things up, etc.? Also, can I point out how absurdly long it takes to learn new things in this system? If I wanted to get Broker 0 it'd take me like 4 months.))

((Don't ask, just do. If it works out it works out. If it doesn't, it doesn't.))

"Y'all talkin' types can take care'a findin' a buyer, I'm gonna make sure everything's still attached." Mac begins to survey the ship, checking for any more 'surprises' or components that may need extra attention.

Engineering (Jump drive):



Eng (life support):



Eng (M-Drive):



Eng (power):



And for good measure:
Mechanic:



and Sensors:



Jack of all trades, master of none,
though oftentimes better than master of one.

((Alright lets get this back on track. Nsos needs to make a broker check to find a supplier here on Prillissa, i will dig up the necessary modifiers for the check later today))

Mac spends some time with the ship pouring over its features and rooting around in the crannies again looking for any surprises. It will take some time.

Meanwhile...?

((POST YOU FUCKING SCROTAL LESIONS I DON'T WANT THIS GAME TO DIE LIKE THE LAST ONE DID WHEN DEZZMONT SPERGED OUT OVER SECURITY CAMERAS))

DED GAEM DED LIFE

AT LEAST THIS GAME MADE IT AS FAR AS MAKING ONE TRADE

FUCK

maybe some day

we'll stay interested in a game

((I will pray to the machine spirit, for the glory of the Cyberpapacy!))

But truly this is the fate of all online games it seems.

Fuck that I want to keep playing. I will make a more involved post later today but we need NSOS to make a broker roll to find a buyer here

Cyrus steps off the boarding ramp and into the station, taking a deep breath of that sweet sweet recycled air. His boots clack loudly on the bulkhead as he walks forward to meet the station employee and hand him off the berthing fees. He lights a cigarette and turns to face the assembled crew.

"Alright folks, we got another couple weeks 'fore our first payment, which means we can make another trip with another hangerfulla goods. First we gotta offload what we brought and find someone willing to sell us some more. Another batch of passengers couldn't hurt either. Destination is Traltha, so Dick i am going to leave it to you to find some folk who wanna head there. Me and Danny will see about the buying and selling. Everyone meet back here in a few hours and we will see what we got."


((pls dont let this die guise))

Danilo nods at Cyrus' plan, fresh from a self-doubt stupor after several of his low-berth passengers decided to opt-out of this 'living is cool' thing. He's not particularly upset at the fact that they died during travel - it's not the first time a patient has died on him over the years. Or the fiftieth time. You miss all the shots you don't take. But it's always unpleasant to stare death in the face, and the process of trying to find the next of kin to send word to is a painful chore in itself.

So getting his mind off of things is something he's been looking forward to do as soon as the ship docked. "Let's make some deals. Lead the way."


[will roll for broker when i get home tonight]

After a bunch of fruitless searches through the local starport's trade DB you end up arranging a meeting for nothing, over nothing. You have no idea why you do this, some strange cosmic urge just compels you to do so.

As you plod down a hallway reality seems to decompress and fold in on itself around you. The sterile metallic halls of the space station flicker in and out of existence. At times the floor beneath you is there. At times it isn't. You're walking in a futuristic space port. You're walking down a clammy dungeon corridor. You're riding an escalator to the food court. You're in a featureless white room. You don't exist. You do exist.

There's a sensation like falling and a sudden stop. You find yourself laying on a fainting couch in a cushy office interior. Sitting across from you is a charred skeleton in a simple suit. Flames roil and lick over it yet it is not consumed. In its lap over folded legs it hunches over a fresh notebook with pen in hand and asks, obviously annoyed

"What do you want?"

Cyrus blinks and looks around.

"Am I dead or is this a dream?"

The skeletons teeth chatter together as he writes some notes in his book

"Would you prefer one over the other?"

"I suppose that depends, can I smoke in here?"

Cyrus pulls a smoke out (assuming he has them) and attempts to light it on the flames. He also checks out his left arm to see if it is still a cybernetic enhancement

Your host looks up from his notebook when he notices you prodding him with a cigarette. He obliges and touches his fingertip to your smoke.

"Got another one of those?"

" you bet friend."

Cyrus passes the cigarette over to the skeleton before taking a really big drag of his owñ

"All right now, where exactly are we?"

((are any of the crew around or is it just Cyrus? Also pls dont let this die))