Cloudbreak IC: Glimpse of the sky

[Balmas]

You find Dem Bones down in his office in the morgue. A few sterile gurneys lie unoccupied, and there's a row of cold-storage lockers along one of the walls. Bones' desk is in the far corner, and from the sound of the snoring, he's taking one of his highly frequent catnaps.

From the smell of the booze in the air, the nap was probably brought on by something strong enough to strip paint.

Well, we can't have that. I shake him awake, or failing that, give a sharp dig with the edge of my hoof. "I understand someone's been murdered," I state, once he's awake. "I need you to tell me everything. Someone here needs a funeral because someone out there desperately needs friendship. And I intend to help them get it."

[BlasTech]

...or, it would be, if the Peregrine didn't decide to crap out on him. Fortunately, the Scrapscallion was a trained professional, expert in such matters as crash landings.

He spied out a long hunk of rooftop, collapsed at a weird angle, and decided the best approach would be to do a sick grind off of it to lower his speed. Kicking on the air brakes, he jerked the whole bike sideways and braced for impact.

Sounds like an Acting Under Fire to perform the sick grind!

Milliway paused, or froze on the spot, more like, as the myriad of monitors blinked out briefly.

That's... not a good sign.

Not indeed, particularly when the Heart is meant to keep things going.

"Apologies for the disruption madam." comes House's voice over the workshop terminal.

"There was a disruption to the incoming power supply. I'm not sure what caused it."

Well, we can't have that. I shake him awake, or failing that, give a sharp dig with the edge of my hoof. "I understand someone's been murdered," I state, once he's awake. "I need you to tell me everything. Someone here needs a funeral because someone out there desperately needs friendship. And I intend to help them get it."

"BWAH!" replies Bones, falling off his chair in the process.

"Miss! Administrator! Ma'am!" he shouts, before wincing at the pain that loud noises brings him. Once he's calmed down, he stares at you with bleary eyes as you lay out your objectives.

"Ugh. Of all the days." he groans, rubbing his head with a hoof. "There's nothing to report here. Pony got her throat cut, open and shut. She's in cabinet four if you want to look at her."

That said, something about his answer doesn't quite parse.

[Did you want to read a pony here?]

[TheAmishPirate]

Sounds like an Acting Under Fire to perform the sick grind!

Heck yeah!

4 + 2 + 2 = 8, unless a certain stowaway would like to provide some Aid?

[Elanorin]

Not indeed, particularly when the Heart is meant to keep things going.

"Apologies for the disruption madam." comes House's voice over the workshop terminal.

"There was a disruption to the incoming power supply. I'm not sure what caused it."

Milliway suddenly leapt into action and positively pounced a nearby control panel and started furiously tapping.

"Are any systems comprised?! Is the firewall intact? Are we leaking integrity? Has anything breached?! Am I hacked?" That last sentence was not so much spoken as squeaked in growing panic.

I'm going to kill that good for nothing unicorn. This has his stink all over it. His and that revolting pet of his! This is outrageous! Beyond belief! Has he no respect for privacy?!

[BlasTech]

Oh no! Less than a few seconds after saving everypony's lives that stupid earth pony driver is going to get him killed! This is all his fault! And the administrator's for not recognizing that he had a science-critical need for those dog hands! And Miliway's - because - because she probably built this stupid floating camper van! All these earth ponies were in on it together!

Someone else was going to solve this for him. Fair's fair - he clearly couldn't be held accountable. The gemstone on his forehead crackled, turned a vibrant shade of pink, and started to suck up passing ghosts.

[Open your brain: 11. Luminark's thinking about getting a mechanic but he'll take anything that helps survivability.]

"Oh, I see your problem here." says a voice, as something seizes control of your limbs. "You're trying to solve this situation with the application of delicate and complex magics."

"What you really need, is MORE POWER!!"

And with that, it shoves your horn into the engine.

Heck yeah!

4 + 2 + 2 = 8, unless a certain stowaway would like to provide some Aid?

Fortunately, he would. Not that you'd know.

In fact, from your perspective Scraps, you manage to coax out a tiny bit more from the Peregine, which allows you to pull of a sick grind along the side of the shack before backblasting the throttle. The bike does a wicked 720*°, sticking the landing on the right back stabiliser, before coming to a rest in a cloud of dust.

This is not pleasant to experience, whether you are strapped into the cockpit or (especially) to the bottom of the bike.

In either case, the bike has come to a safe stop and there doesn't seem to be much damage - except that the grav boosters are out of action.

What do you do now?

Milliway suddenly leapt into action and positively pounced a nearby control panel and started furiously tapping.

"Are any systems comprised?! Is the firewall intact? Are we leaking integrity? Has anything breached?! Am I hacked?" That last sentence was not so much spoken as squeaked in growing panic.

I'm going to kill that good for nothing unicorn. This has his stink all over it. His and that revolting pet of his! This is outrageous! Beyond belief! Has he no respect for privacy?!

Monitors are blinking, the data is streaming across your vision.

Sounds like you're trying to read a sitch!

[Balmas]

"BWAH!" replies Bones, falling off his chair in the process.

"Miss! Administrator! Ma'am!" he shouts, before wincing at the pain that loud noises brings him. Once he's calmed down, he stares at you with bleary eyes as you lay out your objectives.

"Ugh. Of all the days." he groans, rubbing his head with a hoof. "There's nothing to report here. Pony got her throat cut, open and shut. She's in cabinet four if you want to look at her."

That said, something about his answer doesn't quite parse.

[Did you want to read a pony here?]

Aye, that seems like a worthwhile thing to be doing.

(2d6+2)[12] How can I get him to tell me everything he knows about what's going on?

"Roll her out," Starlight said, voice subdued. "I can give her at least that last honor. Nothing? Really? Where was she? Have you asked where she was seen last? What shift did she cover? If I'm to track down this murderer, then I need to know where to start."

[Elanorin]

Monitors are blinking, the data is streaming across your vision.

Sounds like you're trying to read a sitch!

Yes, and then some!

[Rolling Read Sitch: 6+5+0=11; Who's in control here? What should I be on the lookout for? What's my enemy's true position?
Rolling Things Speak: 2+2+2=6]

[BlasTech]

Aye, that seems like a worthwhile thing to be doing.

[roll0] How can I get him to tell me everything he knows about what's going on?

"Roll her out," Starlight said, voice subdued. "I can give her at least that last honor. Nothing? Really? Where was she? Have you asked where she was seen last? What shift did she cover? If I'm to track down this murderer, then I need to know where to start."

Bones didn't need much in the way of encouragement. In fact if you want him to tell you all he knows, you really only have to threaten him as the pony doesn't really have the stomach for violence (despite his chosen profession)

"Ma'am, I'm a mortician, not a policepony. If you want to know her last movements, ask one of your Friendship pals there." he replies, as he sluggishly makes his way over to the freezers and wheels out the corpse. The body of Power Overwhelming rested on the bier. Her throat had been quite clearly cut - although it had also been cleaned up a bit.

Yes, and then some!

[Rolling Read Sitch: 6+5+0=11; Who's in control here? What should I be on the lookout for? What's my enemy's true position?
Rolling Things Speak: 2+2+2=6]

Your monitors stream data across them, but it's not until you look closer that you realise that it is a transmission. Somepony has hacked into your datalinks and is downloading a lot of technical information from your system.

"Madam, there ... appears ... -bzztchh-" says House.

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

Fortunately, he would. Not that you'd know.

In fact, from your perspective Scraps, you manage to coax out a tiny bit more from the Peregine, which allows you to pull of a sick grind along the side of the shack before backblasting the throttle. The bike does a wicked 720*°, sticking the landing on the right back stabiliser, before coming to a rest in a cloud of dust.

This is not pleasant to experience, whether you are strapped into the cockpit or (especially) to the bottom of the bike.

In either case, the bike has come to a safe stop and there doesn't seem to be much damage - except that the grav boosters are out of action.

What do you do now?

Pleasant? No.

Righteous? Very yes.

The Scrapscallion flicked his goggles off and let out an involuntary, "Woooooooooo!" Adrenaline coursed through his soul with every heartbeat, stoking a fire in his belly that shouted for more, more, more! He tumbled out the cockpit, regarding his ride with a manic grin. "What's up, old girl? What's gotten into ya? C'mon; don't be shy now!"

For his first diagnostics check; good old-fashioned percussive maintenance. The Scrapscallion started by kicking the nearest grav booster, feeling the vibrations of hoof on metal run snaking down his spine, before hurling himself bodily at the machine with a spirited woop.

[Rolling to Open Scrap's Brain about what's wrong with the Peregrine. (2d6)[4]]

[Thanqol]

Luminark would have quite liked to have fainted. He's a fainter. A delicate and dying art (for the delicate and dying). Fainting is a great way to stop having to deal with problems like pain, or noise, or smell, or the fact that all three are trying to kill you.

But somepony was kicking the giant pile of garbage he was strapped to like an alarm clock.

So he didn't faint. He just held in placed, dazed and vaguely aware he should be seething.

[BlasTech]

Luminark would have quite liked to have fainted. He's a fainter. A delicate and dying art (for the delicate and dying). Fainting is a great way to stop having to deal with problems like pain, or noise, or smell, or the fact that all three are trying to kill you.

But somepony was kicking the giant pile of garbage he was strapped to like an alarm clock.

So he didn't faint. He just held in placed, dazed and vaguely aware he should be seething.

Well, with Scraps bashing away at the Peregine, it feels like your head is inside a church bell while it's being run. (or, alternatively, that your head is ringing the church bell)

How are you able to suppress the urge to move or yell in that environment? Do you think of something to distract yourself?

Pleasant? No.

Righteous? Very yes.

The Scrapscallion flicked his goggles off and let out an involuntary, "Woooooooooo!" Adrenaline coursed through his soul with every heartbeat, stoking a fire in his belly that shouted for more, more, more! He tumbled out the cockpit, regarding his ride with a manic grin. "What's up, old girl? What's gotten into ya? C'mon; don't be shy now!"

For his first diagnostics check; good old-fashioned percussive maintenance. The Scrapscallion started by kicking the nearest grav booster, feeling the vibrations of hoof on metal run snaking down his spine, before hurling himself bodily at the machine with a spirited woop.

[Rolling to Open Scrap's Brain about what's wrong with the Peregrine. [roll0]]

Well, with all of that woopin' and clangin' it's no wonder that what happens next happens next.

A bullet comes flying out of nowhere, spang-ing off the stabiliser just above your head. Another hits the dirt a good few meters away from you as somepony in the ruins yells out a warcry.

In the silence that follows it, a colt's voice calls out from a different location.

"You there! In the no-longer-flyin' thing! Those were warnin' shots, so y'all better drop yer guns a'fore we start aimin' prop'ly like!"

Inside, you can hear Paddy slotting shells into his weapon. Whoever is out there doesn't look like they've noticed him yet.

What do you two do?

[Elanorin]

Your monitors stream data across them, but it's not until you look closer that you realise that it is a transmission. Somepony has hacked into your datalinks and is downloading a lot of technical information from your system.

"Madam, there ... appears ... -bzztchh-" says House.

What do you do?

"House? House!?" Milliway tapped furiously on the controls like a pony possessed.

You want my stuff, eh? You think you can march in to my systems and take my stuff, eh?!

"Why don't you ask Luminark what happens when you take my stuff."

Y'know, after I've made him pay for it.

Rather than try to stop the download, Milliway instead tried to feed it with every malicious system corruption she could muster. She wanted whoever had the audacity to do this to regret the day they thought they could hack her. More than that, she wanted sparks in their face. More than that, she wanted their damn equipment to f*cking blow up in their face.

[Assuming this requires an AUF roll: 5+3+1=9]

[Balmas]

Bones didn't need much in the way of encouragement. In fact if you want him to tell you all he knows, you really only have to threaten him as the pony doesn't really have the stomach for violence (despite his chosen profession)

"Ma'am, I'm a mortician, not a policepony. If you want to know her last movements, ask one of your Friendship pals there." he replies, as he sluggishly makes his way over to the freezers and wheels out the corpse. The body of Power Overwhelming rested on the bier. Her throat had been quite clearly cut - although it had also been cleaned up a bit

"That's as may be," Starlight stated as she sat down next to the corpse and began to examine the wound. "Still, as a mortician, you can tell me more than that about how she died, and I suggest you do that before I decide your files need to be visited by an auditor." There was no heat behind the threat; just cool dedication. "Information like what kind of weapon did this, beyond 'something sharp'. How long had she been dead before she was found? That alone could be the key to knowing when she died. Where was she found? Does she have a next of kin, parents, anything in her files?"

[Thanqol]

Well, with Scraps bashing away at the Peregine, it feels like your head is inside a church bell while it's being run. (or, alternatively, that your head is ringing the church bell)

How are you able to suppress the urge to move or yell in that environment? Do you think of something to distract yourself?

I'm blue da bu de ba bu dai, da bu de ba bu dai....

This was not much of an improvement because it was one of the songs he'd sung on the mixtape he'd tried to give to the Archmage and even thinking about it brought back enough embarrassing memories to make him long for the sweet mercy of death.

Well, with all of that woopin' and clangin' it's no wonder that what happens next happens next.

A bullet comes flying out of nowhere, spang-ing off the stabiliser just above your head. Another hits the dirt a good few meters away from you as somepony in the ruins yells out a warcry.

In the silence that follows it, a colt's voice calls out from a different location.

"You there! In the no-longer-flyin' thing! Those were warnin' shots, so y'all better drop yer guns a'fore we start aimin' prop'ly like!"

Inside, you can hear Paddy slotting shells into his weapon. Whoever is out there doesn't look like they've noticed him yet.

What do you two do?

No! No! I changed my mind about the sweet mercy of death! Don't you dare get me shot!

Luminark hurriedly began doing whatever he could to fix the machine. If he could get this thing working it'd be his best ticket out of this disaster.

[BlasTech]

"House? House!?" Milliway tapped furiously on the controls like a pony possessed.

You want my stuff, eh? You think you can march in to my systems and take my stuff, eh?!

"Why don't you ask Luminark what happens when you take my stuff."

Y'know, after I've made him pay for it.

Rather than try to stop the download, Milliway instead tried to feed it with every malicious system corruption she could muster. She wanted whoever had the audacity to do this to regret the day they thought they could hack her. More than that, she wanted sparks in their face. More than that, she wanted their damn equipment to f*cking blow up in their face.

[Assuming this requires an AUF roll: 5+3+1=9]

Well, it's a good plan. Hook the pipes up and flood them with garbage.

The only problem is that, again, you need MORE POWER. You need a pump big enough to push back against the torrent that's flooding you. The only thing in your workshop that really has the grunt to deliver on this is the Crystal Heart.

But who knows what might happen if you hook that thing up to the outside systems.

"That's as may be," Starlight stated as she sat down next to the corpse and began to examine the wound. "Still, as a mortician, you can tell me more than that about how she died, and I suggest you do that before I decide your files need to be visited by an auditor." There was no heat behind the threat; just cool dedication. "Information like what kind of weapon did this, beyond 'something sharp'. How long had she been dead before she was found? That alone could be the key to knowing when she died. Where was she found? Does she have a next of kin, parents, anything in her files?"

Say again. Your threat is that he gets audited? What exactly is so fearsome about that and what would Bones have to fear about it?

[I]No! No! I changed my mind about the sweet mercy of death! Don't you dare get me shot!

Luminark hurriedly began doing whatever he could to fix the machine. If he could get this thing working it'd be his best ticket out of this disaster.

Unfortunately, the machine is missing a few key parts now ... probably torn out with the device when it was jettisoned back a-ways. As good a mechanic as your ghost spirit is (and, hint, the one you've got right now isn't that good) you'll need to find something high-tech to get this thing in the air again at anything above a limp. Either that, or try your luck again and see if you land a good jury-rigger.

[Balmas]

Say again. Your threat is that he gets audited? What exactly is so fearsome about that and what would Bones have to fear about it?

Let me answer your question with another question. We're living in a bunker where everyone has something like thirteen doctorates and we're inventing new fields of SCIENCE to compartmentalize all the new things we're doing. Besides being tangled up in bureaucracy, and the weeks of scheduling time it would take for Bones to work through it, do you seriously expect me to believe that Bones isn't doing something stupid, unethical, dangerous, ill-advised, or some combination of the above in his spare time? I mean, this is the mortician we're talking about. He lives with the dead; is he really doing nothing with all those easily exploited corpses?

[Thanqol]

Unfortunately, the machine is missing a few key parts now ... probably torn out with the device when it was jettisoned back a-ways. As good a mechanic as your ghost spirit is (and, hint, the one you've got right now isn't that good) you'll need to find something high-tech to get this thing in the air again at anything above a limp. Either that, or try your luck again and see if you land a good jury-rigger.

Don't need to ask twice. Out! Out! I need a specialist! I don't care if you have to destroy this pile of worthless garbage, just take us away from the ponies with guns!

Open Your Brain: 11

[Elanorin]

Well, it's a good plan. Hook the pipes up and flood them with garbage.

The only problem is that, again, you need MORE POWER. You need a pump big enough to push back against the torrent that's flooding you. The only thing in your workshop that really has the grunt to deliver on this is the Crystal Heart.

But who knows what might happen if you hook that thing up to the outside systems.

Fuck caution.

Caution was for unicorns... or for when anypony was watching her.

Milliway set up the system traps, flicked the switches, pushed the buttons and then dashed across the room to the Crystal Heart and yanked out its central lead and holding it high over her head she leapt theatrically back to her previous console and slam-dunked it in to the port.

"Eat that you fivelegged mule!" she shouted and then laughed, so hoping to hear a spectacular bang somewhere that she could subsequently hunt down.

[BlasTech]

Let me answer your question with another question. We're living in a bunker where everyone has something like thirteen doctorates and we're inventing new fields of SCIENCE to compartmentalize all the new things we're doing. Besides being tangled up in bureaucracy, and the weeks of scheduling time it would take for Bones to work through it, do you seriously expect me to believe that Bones isn't doing something stupid, unethical, dangerous, ill-advised, or some combination of the above in his spare time? I mean, this is the mortician we're talking about. He lives with the dead; is he really doing nothing with all those easily exploited corpses?

Well, my initial response was going to be that this guy is lazy as all get out, so maybe not. But then again, you're the hardholder and this is your hold so I figure you have a better pulse than I on what's going on.

Whatever the case with what he's up to, Bones looks suitably rattled.

"No need for that ma'am!" he replies, crisply enough that you realise you've managed to cut through his hangover.

"Um, details, details. Well, she was killed by a serrated blade, at a guess at least six inches in length. She's been dead for about a day, rigor mortis has set in but she never progressed to the bloat phase despite the location in which she was found - which I understand was in a trash compactor. I didn't both- I mean, the toxicology reports will be complete within an hour ma'am, blood tests too. Just in case. I'll bring the information to you as soon as it's ready."

Bones was in a flurry, and he kept talking as he pulled a file out from under his desk. It looked like it hadn't even been opened before.

"Parents deceased. One through an experiment gone wrong, one killed by the Frie- uh, died in an administrative incident. Cousin to a half dozen ponies in here, through her mother's sister ... no surprises given how interbre- I mean, how contained our community is."

Don't need to ask twice. Out! Out! I need a specialist! I don't care if you have to destroy this pile of worthless garbage, just take us away from the ponies with guns!

Open Your Brain: 11

Gonna give Scraps a moment to do his thing here before I respond.

Fuck caution.

Caution was for unicorns... or for when anypony was watching her.

Milliway set up the system traps, flicked the switches, pushed the buttons and then dashed across the room to the Crystal Heart and yanked out its central lead and holding it high over her head she leapt theatrically back to her previous console and slam-dunked it in to the port.

"Eat that you fivelegged mule!" she shouted and then laughed, so hoping to hear a spectacular bang somewhere that she could subsequently hunt down.

All the monitors grey out for a minute, before something rumbles down in the depths of the facility.

One by one, the screens in your workshop start to come back on line.

In the middle of each, is a single phrase:

"WELL PLAYED"

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

Well, with all of that woopin' and clangin' it's no wonder that what happens next happens next.

A bullet comes flying out of nowhere, spang-ing off the stabiliser just above your head. Another hits the dirt a good few meters away from you as somepony in the ruins yells out a warcry.

In the silence that follows it, a colt's voice calls out from a different location.

"You there! In the no-longer-flyin' thing! Those were warnin' shots, so y'all better drop yer guns a'fore we start aimin' prop'ly like!"

Inside, you can hear Paddy slotting shells into his weapon. Whoever is out there doesn't look like they've noticed him yet.

What do you two do?

Woah. Okay. Bullets? Not fun. All the pain of crashing with none of the heart-pounding explosions. Punks didn't even have the decency to chase him first.

Time to perplex 'em with the 'ol Scrapscallion wit...

He looked exaggeratedly from one forehoof to the other - passing over his visibly holstered revolver - before throwing them up in a broad shrug. "I'm not holding any guns! How am I supposed to drop them?" He called back to his attackers.

[BlasTech]

Woah. Okay. Bullets? Not fun. All the pain of crashing with none of the heart-pounding explosions. Punks didn't even have the decency to chase him first.

Time to perplex 'em with the 'ol Scrapscallion wit...

He looked exaggeratedly from one forehoof to the other - passing over his visibly holstered revolver - before throwing them up in a broad shrug. "I'm not holding any guns! How am I supposed to drop them?" He called back to his attackers.

*CRACK*

Another shot hit the Peregrine, just in front of Scrap.

"Get creative!" yelled back the voice. "Cause the next one is goin' in yore head!"

They're clearly running out of patience.

What are you going to do?

Do you want to read a sitch?

[TheAmishPirate]

*CRACK*

Another shot hit the Peregrine, just in front of Scrap.

"Get creative!" yelled back the voice. "Cause the next one is goin' in yore head!"

They're clearly running out of patience.

What are you going to do?

Do you want to read a sitch?

Drat. The ol' Scrapscallion wit tended to work better than that. Time for the ol' Scrapscallion brains to earn their nogginspace...

[Rolling to Read a Sitch: 3 + 3 + 1 = 7 What's my best escape route?]

[Elanorin]

All the monitors grey out for a minute, before something rumbles down in the depths of the facility.

One by one, the screens in your workshop start to come back on line.

In the middle of each, is a single phrase:

"WELL PLAYED"

What do you do?

There was a gleam of satisfaction in Milliway's eyes, both her real and her prosthetic one, it glinted a menacing red as it focused on the words on the screens.

You don't. Hack. Milliway.

Well,

She returned her hooves to the floor from where she'd been crouched on the consoles like some spiderpony ready to pounce. She shook out her mane a little and sniffed.

so much for seeing Scraps' grand departure. She'd been meaning to catch a glimpse of his mule in action.

Some other time.

With an outstretched hoof she fished hold of one of the legs of her chair. It was a spectacularly ugly thing, put together from a multitude of materials and objects, only some of which appeared to have been chairs in their previous lives. It had a tall back that towered over her head, making it look a bit like a welded together throne (made of cogs, scrap, pipes and broken horseshoes), bolted down stuffing which was a pale pink and increasingly threadbare, it had armrests made out of what looked like canes, one with a griffon head and one with a lion's. But most importantly it was on six wheels allowing her to zip and zoom between her multitude of consoles, controls, panels and monitors without more effort than the off flick of a hoof.

She flopped down on it in a grumpy slumped heap, with one leg hanging over an arm rest, and sighed deeply.

"House? Damage assessment," she requested, and got comfortable. She reckoned this might take a while.

[Trying this again, Rolling Things Speak: 6+1+2=9 what’s wrong with this, and how might I fix it?]

[BlasTech]

Don't need to ask twice. Out! Out! I need a specialist! I don't care if you have to destroy this pile of worthless garbage, just take us away from the ponies with guns!

Open Your Brain: 11

A spirit enters your brain, bringing with it a sudden rush of images: a cigarette, stubble and a old, weather-beaten orange baseball cap. You also get the feeling that you should be wearing a pair of dark blue denim overalls and drinking copious amounts of coffee.

Your hooves tingle, as you survey the grav-projector. It can be made to work again, we have the technology, but it will mean scavenging parts from some of the other critical subsystems of the ship. (Navigation, the thrusters, etc.). It's not going to be a fast job, nor an easy one, but the guy in your head swears that it can be done. He'll even refill the washer fluid for free.

Unfortunately, it means you'll have to crawl out of your hiding space eventually. What do you do?

Drat. The ol' Scrapscallion wit tended to work better than that. Time for the ol' Scrapscallion brains to earn their nogginspace...

[Rolling to Read a Sitch: 3 + 3 + 1 = 7 What's my best escape route?]

These guys are deliberately shooting to warn, not kill. The must have a reason they didn't just blast you right off, particularly if they want to steal your ship.

They probably want to talk, but they want you to stick around long enough for them to do it. Your best bet might actually be negotiation.

Oh, by the way, Paddy has finished loading up and is about to open a can of shotfun on these guys - he might just get himself killed while doing it.

What do you do?

"House? Damage assessment," she requested, and got comfortable. She reckoned this might take a while.

[Trying this again, Rolling Things Speak: 6+1+2=9 what’s wrong with this, and how might I fix it?]

House doesn't reply.

In fact, when you tap the consoles a bit to bring up a diagnostic, a large chunk of data is no longer in your systems. It didn't comprise of any of your research, which was what the hacker seemed to be after, but instead seems to have come from the anomalous chunk of information that you've always assumed was part of House's personality.

In short, he's gone. Sucked out into the electronic ether. If you want things back to normal operations, you're going to have to track him down first.

The crystal heart also looks a bit off. Its colour is wan, and flickered with a sickly yellow glow. It must have used a bit of power up in the counterattack. Hopefully it will recover in time, but for now most of your grunt and automated systems are going to be running on low power.

The workshop seems eerily silent. Just you, the occasional creak of machinery, and the two words burning on the screen in front of you.

What do you do?

[TheAmishPirate]

A spirit enters your brain, bringing with it a sudden rush of images: a cigarette, stubble and a old, weather-beaten orange baseball cap. You also get the feeling that you should be wearing a pair of dark blue denim overalls and drinking copious amounts of coffee.

Your hooves tingle, as you survey the grav-projector. It can be made to work again, we have the technology, but it will mean scavenging parts from some of the other critical subsystems of the ship. (Navigation, the thrusters, etc.). It's not going to be a fast job, nor an easy one, but the guy in your head swears that it can be done. He'll even refill the washer fluid for free.

Unfortunately, it means you'll have to crawl out of your hiding space eventually. What do you do?

Just so you know, the Scrapscallion keeps a few spare parts in the back hold. He's not dumb enough to go out driving without a spare tire, if you catch my drift. He can't carry fresh parts for everything, but he's got a good stash of things what normally break.

Luminark may not know this, but he might just find them if he goes rooting around.

These guys are deliberately shooting to warn, not kill. The must have a reason they didn't just blast you right off, particularly if they want to steal your ship.

They probably want to talk, but they want you to stick around long enough for them to do it. Your best bet might actually be negotiation.

Oh, by the way, Paddy has finished loading up and is about to open a can of shotfun on these guys - he might just get himself killed while doing it.

What do you do?

Huh. That's not a bad idea. Good job, brain!

"Alright, alright. Jeez, tough crowd." The Scrapscallion carefully picked up his revolver, plopped it on the ground, and took a deliberate step away from it. Which, conveniently enough, took him right into Paddy's line of sight. "So what do you want with me and this paddy wagon? Hold up with the shooting, and maybe we could help each other, y'dig?" He flashed the goons a charming smile, but shook his head as he spoke a certain few words with emphasis:

Paddy Wagon. Hold up with the shooting.

[Balmas]

Well, my initial response was going to be that this guy is lazy as all get out, so maybe not. But then again, you're the hardholder and this is your hold so I figure you have a better pulse than I on what's going on.

Whatever the case with what he's up to, Bones looks suitably rattled.

"No need for that ma'am!" he replies, crisply enough that you realise you've managed to cut through his hangover.

"Um, details, details. Well, she was killed by a serrated blade, at a guess at least six inches in length. She's been dead for about a day, rigor mortis has set in but she never progressed to the bloat phase despite the location in which she was found - which I understand was in a trash compactor. I didn't both- I mean, the toxicology reports will be complete within an hour ma'am, blood tests too. Just in case. I'll bring the information to you as soon as it's ready."

Bones was in a flurry, and he kept talking as he pulled a file out from under his desk. It looked like it hadn't even been opened before.

"Parents deceased. One through an experiment gone wrong, one killed by the Frie- uh, died in an administrative incident. Cousin to a half dozen ponies in here, through her mother's sister ... no surprises given how interbre- I mean, how contained our community is."

"Administrative accidents are terrible tragedies that affect us all," Starlight allowed. "I do wish I had more to work with, but I suppose I shall have to make do."

[Spending one hold: What does Bones intend to do?]

[BlasTech]

"Administrative accidents are terrible tragedies that affect us all," Starlight allowed. "I do wish I had more to work with, but I suppose I shall have to make do."

[Spending one hold: What does Bones intend to do?]

Heh, now it's my turn to answer a question with another question! In this case, Glims, the question is: Just how scary are you right now?

Roll a Go Aggro to find out. To make the threat stick.

Huh. That's not a bad idea. Good job, brain!

"Alright, alright. Jeez, tough crowd." The Scrapscallion carefully picked up his revolver, plopped it on the ground, and took a deliberate step away from it. Which, conveniently enough, took him right into Paddy's line of sight. "So what do you want with me and this paddy wagon? Hold up with the shooting, and maybe we could help each other, y'dig?" He flashed the goons a charming smile, but shook his head as he spoke a certain few words with emphasis:

Paddy Wagon. Hold up with the shooting.

Paddy gets the hint. He doesn't look too happy about it, but the giant pony sidles a little bit further back inside the Peregrine.

Anyway, you're exposed here and trying to negotiate with a bunch of hidden shooters. Sounds like you're trying to manipulate them into not shooting you. Roll Hot!

[Balmas]

Heh, now it's my turn to answer a question with another question! In this case, Glims, the question is: Just how scary are you right now?

Roll a Go Aggro to find out. To make the threat stick.

Surely you're not suggesting that I'd need to resort to ruling by fear to get what I want? All of my little ponies love me!

Spoiler: The face of love and friendship

Show

(2d6+2)[13]

[TheAmishPirate]

Paddy gets the hint. He doesn't look too happy about it, but the giant pony sidles a little bit further back inside the Peregrine.

Anyway, you're exposed here and trying to negotiate with a bunch of hidden shooters. Sounds like you're trying to manipulate them into not shooting you. Roll Hot!

This'll go well.

[Rolled 1 + 2 + 1 = 4. Though, do I have to roll Manipulation to get them to talk/not shoot me if that's what they wanted to do in the first place?]

[Thanqol]

A spirit enters your brain, bringing with it a sudden rush of images: a cigarette, stubble and a old, weather-beaten orange baseball cap. You also get the feeling that you should be wearing a pair of dark blue denim overalls and drinking copious amounts of coffee.

Your hooves tingle, as you survey the grav-projector. It can be made to work again, we have the technology, but it will mean scavenging parts from some of the other critical subsystems of the ship. (Navigation, the thrusters, etc.). It's not going to be a fast job, nor an easy one, but the guy in your head swears that it can be done. He'll even refill the washer fluid for free.

Unfortunately, it means you'll have to crawl out of your hiding space eventually. What do you do?

Just so you know, the Scrapscallion keeps a few spare parts in the back hold. He's not dumb enough to go out driving without a spare tire, if you catch my drift. He can't carry fresh parts for everything, but he's got a good stash of things what normally break.

Luminark may not know this, but he might just find them if he goes rooting around.

Luminark is going to tap into his finely honed unicorn senses, allow his magical awareness to help him pinpoint the location of everypony, and chart a precise and elegant route to the back hold which gets him seen by nopony.

Read a Sitch: 5