Signal of Screams IC

[Gamemasterx]

You all have been picked from your destination to be escorted to Paradise Resort. You know that this resort is going to be an exclusive vacation and something few people will ever get to experience in their lives.

The other passengers aboard, appears to be there for their own reasons. The accomadations inside the ship are definitely comfortable with everybody having their own cabinet and room.

You are being flown in, in the Ringworks Sentinel. A vessel made for protection and transport with basic armaments. Your trip have been fairly quiet to the sector of the Diaspora.

New Elysium intercepts a distress signal and you are able to hear the conversation.

“Shuttle Goal Runner to New Elysium security! We’re under attack! Request immediate assistance!”

The response is quick. “Acknowledged, Goal Runner. We’re on our way. Hang in there.”

“They’ll never get here in time, Buzzblades!” an unknown person with a gravelly voice interjects. “Give it up, and we’ll go easy on ya.” The transmission ends with laughter and hooting from what must be other ships in the area.

Spoiler: Checks and other information

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Culture Check to identify the Buzzblades. If your character is a fan of sports, you don't need to roll. Just note it in your next post or ask in OOC.

-You can attempt to convince the crew to let you help or take over the control of the Starship, if not, the crew will just do their best in the upcoming encounter. Diplomacy or Intimidate checks would be ways to do it.

-It will take a couple of minutes for your Starship to reach the combat area.

[Thanatos95]

Ironhide was relaxing in his cabin, enjoying the latest episode of Xarnax and Bob when he heard the announcement.

"Buzzblades? Probably some jumped up pirate gang..." He let out a long sigh, then slams a fist on wall "Im supposed to be on vacation!" Walking over to the storage locker, he opens it to reveal a 7 foot tall suit of gleaming armor and a long rifle stashed inside.

"Time to go back to work I guess." With a quick flip of a switch the power up sequence begins.

Spoiler: rolls

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Untrained culture check to recall anything about the Buzzblades:

(1d20+2)[20]

[Ridai]

Nico is highly concentrated on the task before him. Sitting in a comfy chair, making sure to remain appropiately relaxed in posture. Tactical t-shirt, shorts, and sandals. Drink. Glowing neon cyan color liquid, three ice dodecahedrons, straw switching between the primary colors at full bore, tiny faux-paper umbrella. Just sitting there. Casually (casually!) reach out to the drink, slurp it like an afterthought, while doing nothing. Except sitting there. With some muzak. The concentration needed to go through with this "relaxation" procedure does kind of fly in the face of the usual purpose of relaxation, and it is feeling rather like he should be doing something else rather than trying to hit every cliché of tourism he has been told to do (and has exploited every now and then to avoid detection while trying to get something done instead of getting ventilated).

Reach out. Maintain amoeba-like lack of tension in the rest of the body. Lift drink closer. Ignore that alcohol really isn't his thing, it just makes people stupid. T-minus 5 seconds. Trying not to sweat or furrow his brow too much.

Relaxation is hard work.

The destress regiment is interrupted by a sudden distress call. At first, Nico's fingers go to his datajack while he looks around for a cable (completely destroying the whole "Do Nothing" mantra), wondering if he accidentally let himself into the ship's systems due to doing nothing for extended periods of time. That does not seem to be the case, leaving him somewhat confused as to why distress calls get broadcasted through the entire passenger ship. Well, there is now something to do, and Nico is obligated to do something. The warning signal colored drink is quickly abandoned and he suits up with practised ease, leaving the cabin in under a minute, so there is now a wiry man with dark rings around his eyes, somewhat messy short hair, a stubble, and a reflective black body suit heading to the bridge. The steps are very quick, clearly not wasting time, but at the same time seeming like business-as-usual, and if people are in the way, he sometimes just walks on the walls.

"Hey, so, I work as part of a crisis troubleshooter squad, so I'm helping out. Can do engineering, systems, piloting, gunning. Can we please skip the 'no, sit down, we got this' phase, 'cause I don't wanna get you in trouble if people get wind of not letting someone like me help, and I don't wanna deal with getting sued over still accessing your systems if you say no." Nico's always been pretty crap at negotiations, so he doesn't negotiate. Threatening people also is way too damn shortsighted. So since he doesn't have the time to put together a fake identity and credentials, he'll just go for the thing that usually helps: implying that not letting him do what he wants could lead to people getting in trouble with their employers. Obviously, that wouldn't actually happen (though Nico would still very much get sued over simply granting himself superuser rights to the ship systems, and some truth always helps with the best lies), but it is a great motivator.

Spoiler: Actions

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Bluff check to convince the crew that not letting Nico help would lead to bad consequences for everyone involved (1d20+13)[30]

Culture check about the Buzzblades (1d20+11)[25]

[Syless]

Perfect. Chaos before we even get to our destination. The relaxing Verthani grumbles as she rises from her bed. She could likely just rest and let everyone else handle it... but she doubts these are soldiers. They're civilians who don't know what they're doing- and that means they need to be told what they're doing. Adaya stretches and confidently walks to the cockpit of the shuttle. She speaks without hesitation, pointing towards whoever is manning the comms. "You. Put out a call for anyone with combat expertise on board. If anyone here does not have any, abandon their posts to those who do. I'll coordinate the volunteers, because frankly, I'd rather none of you get hurt. That's just more work for me."

Spoiler

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Culture- (1d20+16)[23]
Intimidate- (1d20+14)[25]

[Denomar]

From a cloud of vapor a mellifluous voice answers the call to combat.

"that's nice darling. Why don't you pass that lovely bottle of champagne back down the cabin, hmm."

The voice comes from what can only be described as a moving pile of bottles and narcostick butts surrounding the armored form of a ghost pale elf. He looks like he's dressed up for walpurgisnacht by way of the apocalypse. He's spent the first few hours of drift flight getting *remarkably* sloshed. Followed by an impromptu performance that was shut down by the ships captain for being too distracting. This last little bit he's been passed out in his seat (leaving some blessed quiet for passengers who weren't expecting the cramped ship to be a one on one with a drowmetal artist).

Shaking what remains of his hangover out along with his glorious sheet of silver hair Albion Voidthruster stands and keys the comm system on his armor to the local emergency network.

"Buzzblades? More like Buzzkills."

[Chromascope3D]

As the emergency klaxon blares throughout the ship, a large hobgoblin looks up from over round spectacles that are, in all, much too small for his face. He grumbles, and slowly comes to his feet, as he hears the crew beating to quarters outside of his room. Buzzblades, where had he heard that name before? The klaxon continues to cry, rhythmically interrupting his thoughts. Ah, he remembers now, just more bloodsports. How many varieties there are, all suffering for the entertainment of others. Revel. One word creeps into his head, and louder, until the word is pulsing with every blare of the alarm. He reaches into the drawer of his end table, and pulls out two devices. Placing one into each ear, he presses a button on his datapad, piping an even louder blare of shredding guitars, drums, and screaming that drowns out even the alarm, and the voices with it. He sits back down upon his bed, adjusts his spectacles, and resumes his reading.

[Lokyar]

Hearing the predicament of the bloodsport athletes Nui had a half-second urge to return to her book, but stamped down on it. While their fans were frequently obnoxious, and had ruined a few quiet nights when her downtime on their home station had coincided with a big match, the athletes themselves hadn't done anything to her. And more importantly, there were certain social contracts to honor. You never ignore a distress beacon, who knows when you'll be on the other end of it. And, of course, f&%k raiders. Those blood drunk savages made traveling so much more dangerous, and expensive, than it should be.

Fortunately her cover occupation had reason to own and operate at least moderate weaponry, so helping wouldn't attract undue attention. It might even provide some unexpected in-roads. Securing her sidearm at her hip she left her room and made a beeline for where everyone seemed to be congregating. "I imagine you weren't expecting a situation like this, but I'm willing to lend support if you intend to help them. Nui Londalt, far reaches surveyor. I'm combat trained, and can provide on-site medical attention."

[Thanatos95]

Ironhide marched to the bridge, deliberately using his long perfected heavy tread to put a little more menace into his appearance. Upon arrival he sees the other passengers that have crowded into the bridge, also drawn by the announcements. "I assume we are under attack? This ship is a Verces' Ringworks Sentinel class vessel. Do you have anyone qualified to operate the Heavy Gravity Gun that comes standard? If not, then I will. I have no interest in being spaced when I'm not getting paid for it." Ironhide puts a little growl into his voice, easily slipping back into his "work" image.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Taking 10 on Intimidate to convince the crew to give him weapon access, and just to generally project his tough guy image, so 20 total