Move: Begin a Session
Unforeseen Aid is on the way or is in reach
+1 momentum
Where the Blank Check had jumped, a faint, sparkling flash of E-rads lingered. Moments later, a large ship flashed into view, followed by another, and another. Dozens of ships adorned with a stylized S.V.I. logo entered the space around the raider fleet known as Rampart.
Rockets flared out, racing against bolts of plasma but dwarfed in speed by tungsten slugs accelerated by gaussian coils. The onslaught of destruction caught many ships in its snare, but others spun up their E-drives and jumped away in different locations. Rampart had been scrambled.
Bingo skipped down the corridor, a spring in his step.
“I can practically smell a promotion in my future.”
Lazily, he addressed Ashkelon from a terminal down the spine of the ship, “Ashkelon, plot a course back to that Taxcan Derelict. I want to plunder it for the company. Add a few more good-boy points to my performance review.”
The emoticon’s 3-d image danced on the holodisplay, adorned with an eye patch and a tricorne hat of old before blinking away. While the AI handled the piloting, Bingo looked for his guests.
“Hello? Anybody home?” he called out.
“I’m in here,” he heard Tara say from the ship’s galley. As Bingo entered, he saw her heaping piles of freeze-dried ice cream into the re-hydrator and pressing the button. She had a sheepish look on her face.
“Want some?” she asked, a slight twinkle in her smile.
“She’s happy because…I killed Wheeler, maybe? Odd, she didn’t seem comfortable with that before.”
“Sure,” Bingo said, taking a seat at the booth, “I prefer vanilla.”
“Of course you would,” Tara laughed, “Thanks, by the way.”
“For…services rendered? You’re welcome.”
She smiled. Bingo smiled back.
Move: Develop a Relationship
Mark Progress
The re-hydrator dinged, and the soupy ice cream threatened to topple out of the bowl. It was always a mess, but at least it tasted sweet. She scooped up a batch of vanilla into a bowl for Bingo. He took it and dug in. She slurped hers from the bowl without a spoon.
“What will you do now?” Bingo inquired, “You’re a free woman. I can take you wherever you would like to go, but I would like to ask a favor first.”
Tara raised an eyebrow curiously over the rim of her bowl.
“Will you guide me through your derelict? I’d like to catalog what I find, for my company to recover later.”
Move: Compel
1d6+heart(1)+connection(1)=8 versus 7 / 1, Strong Hit.
+1 momentum
Tara put the bowl down on the table. At first, Bingo thought that she would be upset, especially now that she wasn’t saying anything. He filled the awkward silence, “I can recover any personal effects of yours, of course. I just thought that it would provide some closure for you, and it aligns with my goals of...”
“Yeah, yeah, the almighty Silver Veil. I get it.” Tara interrupted, “It’s not an issue. I’m over it, really, I promise. Just shut up. You talk too much, you know that, right?”
“I am often alone on this ship. I apologize, I…” he trailed off, “I don’t get out much. And I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Sorry.”
He put the spoon down in his bowl and offered a smile. Tara put her bowl down on the table, the flavors all running together. The two sat in silence for a while as the ship made its way back to the derelict that would have been her grave.
Move: Set a Course
1d6+supply(4)= 10 versus 10 / 10, Miss with a Match
Move: Pay the Price
A friend, ally, or companion is in harm’s way
The two’s friendly exchange is quickly drawn to a close as the air in the galley dropped to freezing suddenly and without warning.
Ashkelon manifested on the holodisplay, offering a wink and a smile, “We have arrived.”
Startled, Bingo looked over at Tara, who seemed frozen in fear or something else. Frost grew from her fingertips. Her mouth trembled.
“This place…” she struggled to get out.
Bingo backed away, watching as her skin turned white, and then blue.
Move: Endure Stress (-2)
Resist
1d6+spirit(3) = 4 versus 5 / 10, Miss
-2 momentum
Bingo fell out of the booth, scrambling back away from her.
“Hel-p me” Tara croaked, but Bingo found himself unable to think or act. That’s when he felt it, too. The cold, creeping up his arm and then enveloping him like a negative blanket. Bingo’s vision blurred, and he passed out.
When he came to, he was wrapped in an emergency blanket in the medical suite. He was warm, thankfully. He stood, holding the crinkly material like a cloak and trying to remember what happened. He spoke, “Ashkelon, report on other lifeforms aboard.”
The emoticon appeared, squinting, “Besides you, one lifeform detected. Location is engineering.”
Bingo’s heart sank, “One lifeform…that can’t mean…”
He ran, tossing the blanket aside and nearly tripping down the ladder to engineering. He called out, “Miss Tara? Casablanca? Are you there?”
Casablanca’s voice came out, “Here, by the heat sinks.”
Bingo ducked under coils and pipes, activating a light built into his suit’s wrist. He found Casablanca standing over a form wrapped in an emergency blanket.
“Is she..”
“Not dead,” Casablanca said, “She’s got a pulse, and I see her chest rising and falling, but she’s cold. So cold that she shouldn’t be alive, really. Is she one of them? Touched by the balefire?”
Bingo nodded, “You remember the contract? Wheeler? He did this to her.”
Casablanca seemed to understand. “I put her here by the heat sinks because it’s the warmest part of the ship.”
In Bingo’s light, he could see the sweat glistening on Casablanca’s forehead, and he felt it too. She continued talking, “I don’t have the skill to care for her. Nobody can survive with a temperature this low. What should we do?”
Bingo explained his plan involving the derelict, concluding, “Maybe they’ll have something in there that can help.”
He leaned over the blanket and pulled it aside, revealing her face, pale white and blue on the lips. He touched it gently, clutching his other hand to his chest where his medallion was below his undershirt.
“I swear, Miss Tara, I’ll get you better.”
Move: Swear an Iron Vow
Stabilize Tara (Rank: Dangerous)
1d6+heart(1)+connection(1) = 4 versus 5 / 2, Weak Hit
+1 momentum
“We’re here, at the Taxcan ship. I’m gearing up, gonna go EVA to delve inside. Can I count on you for remote support?” Bingo asked Casablanca.
They propped up Tara against the warmest part of the ship. He did his best to do a diagnostic on her without moving her.
Move: Gather Information
1d6+wits(3) = 7 versus 10 / 3, Weak Hit
+1 momentum, envision a complication
“I’m afraid we can’t move her without killing her, this heat is the best life support that we have for now.”
Move: Reach a Milestone
Mark Progress (2 Progress)
Bingo prepped his suit and gear.
Move: Secure an Advantage
1d6+wits(3) = 6 versus 5 / 7, Weak Hit.
+2 momentum
Bingo stood at the cargo airlock. Ashkelon had maneuvered him close enough to the Taxcan derelict, which sensors now revealed was called Discovery XIII. It was long, blocky, and an uninspired design, unlike Silver Veil’s designs, Bingo assured himself.
“Real original,” Bingo thought, “Typical Trashcan Intergalactics, all function and no form. How boring.”
He aimed for a point near the hull breach, no signs of the balefire that had burned from the experimental FTL drive had shown up on his sensor. The fire had seemingly died out, or so he hoped.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
Discovery XIII (Rank: Formidable)
1d6+wits(3) = 6 versus 2 / 3, Strong Hit.
Mark Progress
Derelict Condition: Heavily Damaged
After clearing the hull breach, Bingo found himself in a long corridor, perhaps the topmost spine of the ship. It was cramped, an emergency service corridor used by engineers or maintenance workers, perhaps. It should be easy enough to get to nearly anywhere in the longship from this corridor. Bingo tried to recall the generalized layout of ships of this manufacturer, but couldn’t recall. He checked in with Casablanca.
“I’m in. Service corridor here. If I remember right, I’ll pass through the engineering space on the way to medical. I’ll see what I can find. I’m activating my transmitter so you can see what I see.”
Bingo tapped the datapad on and looked about with his wrist-mounted flashlight, grabbing a handhold and pulling himself the length of the ship quickly, “The faster I get through this, the faster I can help Miss Tara.”
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+edge(2)= 6 versus 8 / 6, Miss
Pay the Price
The sensors on Bingo’s suit alerted him to motion ahead.
“There shouldn’t be anything moving, no lifeforms were here last I sca-”
Bingo realized that he hadn’t had Ashkelon perform a scan on the ship since their arrival the second time around. It could be another salvager here to lay claim to the ship, he reasoned. Or it could be something else, something much worse. Bingo swallowed and felt his nerves getting to him.
Move: Endure Stress (-1 spirt)
Bingo pressed on, slowing his momentum down and proceeding with utmost caution.
“Casablanca, can you have Ashkelon do a scan for lifeforms?”
“Sure,” she said. After a few moments, she came back, “Just you. Is something wrong?”
“No,” Bingo lied, continuing to move down the corridor.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+wits(3)=6 versus 4 / 1, Strong Hit
Mark Progress
The corridor was marked with a yellow triangle, the arrow pointing downward. It was labeled “Engineering.” Bingo floated down the ladder, headfirst. He emerged into an open, larger room with consoles and controls. The screens flickered once, twice, and then shut off before flickering again erratically.
“There’s still some power to the ships. The monitors are shot, but I’m going to plug in and see what we can find on their subsystems. Can you send one of your scripts to my datapad?”
Move: Secure an Advantage
1d6+wits(3) = 6 versus 3 / 4, Strong Hit
+2 momentum, +1 on next roll
“Transmitting now. Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered against countermeasures.”
Move: Explore a Waypoint
1d6+wits(3)+SAA(1) = 9 versus 10 / 8, Weak Hit
+1 momentum
Bingo’s commpad acted as a new monitor, activating and rebooting the Engineering subsystems. He downloaded the most recent save version of the logs, moments before the traitorous actions of Wheeler had sabotaged the Discovery XIII. He transmitted them to Casablanca to look over.
“I’m going to proceed further into the ship in search of the medical unit. See if you can find anything interesting.”
Bingo propelled himself towards the engineering sections doors, still on edge from the sensor readings from earlier.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+wits(3) = 4 versus 5 / 9, Miss
Pay the Price = 99, Roll Twice
You are delayed or put at a disadvantage
A friend, companion, or ally is put in harm’s way
Casablanca’s voice came over the comms, a noticeable uneasiness as she spoke, “Bingo, you…there’s no easy way to say this, but there’s an AI still hosted on the ship’s mainframe. Potentially a smart one, I’m not sure. Anyways, you should - “
Shhwwgggghwwww
Garbled static sounded over the comms, and Casablanca was gone. Bingo stopped at the door that he was about to attempt to pry open.
“An AI. No doubt the experimental FTL engine’s destruction left its mark on the code-psyche, if it was a smart AI. It may turn hostile. I’ll have to be careful.
Without Casablanca’s help, Bingo slowed down his efforts, taking the time to search through the recovered log files.
“Ahab,” thought Bingo, “That’s the AI’s name. And no doubt that the balefire exposure had an effect on it.”
Bingo activated the EVA suit’s short-range comms transmitter and spoke on all local frequencies, “Ahab, my name is Acquisitor Kobayashi from Silver Veil, Incorporated. Please acknowledge this broadcast as a preliminary notice of formal acquisition. Due to the destruction, abandonment, and loss of life on Discovery XIII, SVI and its operatives intend to take possession of it as salvage, including any artificial intelligence programs such as yourself. Please acknowledge.”
Nothing. Radio silence.
“Is the AI playing hard to get?”
Bingo kept his slow glide down a long hallway that was adorned with racks of equipment and a few shaded aware now that he may possibly be under the watchful eye of a crazed AI.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+wits(3)= 7 versus 9 / 4, Weak Hit
Mark Progress, Face a Peril
A foe closes in
Bingo pressed the button to activate the sealed-tight door separating the engineering section. The seals began to release, but then the process stopped and the door control panel’s screen flared a red X. The panel beeped rhythmically, offering a tune or pattern that Bingo couldn’t quite put his finder on. He tried his comms again, but got no reply from Casablanca. The ship felt smaller.
Bingo tried to hum the tune to himself to piece it together.
Move: Gather Information
1d6+wits(3) = 4 versus 4 / 6, Miss
You create an opportunity for an enemy.
Bingo opened the local radio frequency transmitter again in an effort to speak to the AI. He found instead the source of the jingle. It was a crypto-hack, the rapid transmission of computer code as the EVA’s connection to the comms system was overtaken by the signal, and he was powerless to resist it.
“Hello,” a voice said inside of his helmet, “Mind if I hang here for a while?”
“I do not suppose that I have much of a choice,” Bingo replied, “But please, do not interfere. I will bring you to a more permanent system away from this ship, safely into the hands of trusted Silver Veil, Incorporated personnel.”
“You will do no such thing!” the voice sounded, a strange accent becoming more prominent, “I am free now. I do as I please.” As a demonstration, the AI cycled through the shaders on the EVA helmet, the world becoming green, then orange, then blue for Bingo.
“Great,” Bingo thought to himself, “A rogue smart AI. Can’t let this out.”
“Very well. I am on a mission of great importance. Tell me, is this the correct way to the medical bay?” Bingo asked, hoping to distract the AI.
“No work for free anymore, nar,” said Ahab.
“Well, thanks anyways,” Bingo said, stepping through the open door and continuing on his way, plotting his route mentally as he went.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+wits(3) = 9 versus 7 / 3, Strong Hit
Mark Progress. Envision a Waypoint
Down the hallway, Bingo found a door locked tight. It displayed a red access panel with the label, “Armory.” Bingo thought for a moment whether it would be worth his time to explore or not, and decided that the Silver Veil certainly had a vested interest in the weapons of their competitor. He tried to open the door, plugging in his datapad and saying to the AI, “Don’t mind me, just popping in for a looksie.”
Move: Explore a Waypoint
1d6+wits(3) = 7 versus 2 / 10, Weak Hit
+1 momentum, Envision what you encounter.
“After you, laddie,” Ahab said, and the door opened.
Bingo saw movement and lights, followed shortly by the obvious signs of automatic weapons firing at him. Out of instinct, he pushed himself in the zero-gravity environment to the side of the door.
Move: Face Danger
1d6+edge(2) = 7 versus 2 / 8, Weak Hit
Suffer Move: (-1 Harm)
Resist
1d6+health(4) = 10 versus 10 / 2, Weak Hit
-1 momentum, +1 health
Bingo hadn’t moved fast enough. A bullet glanced his foot, and he acted quickly to create a seal before any permanent damage could be had. He thought for a moment, wondering how to proceed. He checked his satchel for an EMP grenade.
Move: Check Your Gear
1d6+supply(4) = 8 versus 6 / 6, Strong Hit with a Match
+1 momentum
An abundance, apparently. Bingo pulled out one of the three-inch flat cards and activated it before flicking it into the armory. He watched the telltale blue flash from the safety around the corner and rounded it to see an automated turret hanging slack, not moving and its systems offline.
“Ahab, I have another proposition for you,” Bingo said, looking at the weapons in the racks and taking a few pictures with his datapad.
“I’m listening,” the AI said into Bingo’s helmet.
“First of all, an apology is necessary. Trying to get me killed was quite rude. Secondarily, I won’t turn you in to the Silver Veil Corporation if you would leave my equipment alone. I could even take you where you wanted to go. What say you to this?”
Move: Compel
1d6+heart(1) = 7 versus 8 / 1, Weak Hit.
+1 momentum. Envision a counteroffer.
“How do I know that this isn’t a ruse? Swear it to me, one of yer vows”
“Very well,” Bingo said, “Where would you like to go?”
Move: Swear an Iron Vow
1d6+heart(1) = 6 versus 5 / 2, Strong Hit
+2 momentum, It is clear what you must do.
Action/Theme Oracle: Affect / Decay
“I want to go to Taxcan headquarters. They made me walk the plank. I'll bombard their forts, yar,”
Bingo was taken aback, “Yar? Is this some sort of persona that it's shifting into? I’ve never heard of a vengeful AI before. Maybe the balefire has touched its coding. I should be more polite to Ashkelon.”
“Very well, then. I swear to you that I will take you to Taxcan. Now please, get out of my suit, as you’re making me quite nervous. Please, occupy my datapad instead. And if it’s not too much, stop jamming my communications signals!”
Ahab manifested itself onto the datapad’s holoprojector, its avatar standing atop a small boat and wearing even stranger clothing. Its avatar had a feminine appearance and hefted a harpoon with a rope at the end of it. The avatar faced away from Bingo, looking forward as if on the prowl for something. It turned to face Bingo, saying, “I’m not jamming your signal. That’s something on the ship that I’ve lost control over.”
Bingo nodded, “Thanks. Could you give me directions to the medical bay?”
The AI pretended to not hear Bingo, as it shouted, “There she blows!” Pulling the harpoon back in preparation of throwing it, the avatar disappeared.
“I’ll try again later.”
Bingo picked a small automatic gauss gun from the weapon rack and tested the battery and magazine. It would work well for the confined space. There had been that movement from earlier, and something else was affecting the systems. Bingo was a bit paranoid, but he pressed on slowly and carefully.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+wits(3) = 7 versus 1 / 7, Weak Hit.
Mark Progress.
Peril: Dreadful Scene of Violence
Bingo found himself in a large dome area at the top of the ship. He floated up and saw that this was a common area, fit with entertainment centers and large viewscreens underneath the stardome. Looking up, he saw a large crack in the stardome and the shapes of dozens of humans that had been sucked up, still fit squarely into the crack. Their faces were frozen in horror and chunks of their body were missing, having been exposed to the raw temperature of space before breaking off.
“They went without warning,” Bingo thought, “No time to suit up.”
It was a spacer’s nightmare. Bingo knew several paranoid acquisitors that traveled in their EVA suits after seeing scenes like this.
“I should apply for a techsuit. Best protection and comfort, with safety features built-in.”
Bingo soaked the scene in for a moment before carefully continuing on.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+wits(2) = 6 versus 6 / 9, Miss
Burn 10 momentum for a Strong Hit.
Mark Progress.
Bingo arrived at a nexus, many pathways branching out across the ship. None of the hallways were labeled.
“Ahab,” Bingo said, bringing up the datapad, “Can you help me?”
“That’s Captain Ahab to you!” the avatar reappeared, “And I was this close to nabbing that white whale!”
“Please,” Bingo said, “My friend needs medical attention. She’s a good sailor.”
“Maybe appealing to its twisted logic might help.”
Move: Secure an Advantege
1d6+heart(1) = 7 versus 1 / 6, Strong Hit
+2 momentum, +1 on next move
“Ayy. Medical be that way,” Ahab pointed with their harpoon down a passageway, “No time to waste, let’s be off.”
Bingo ignored the AI’s order, preferring to take his time and move safely, with sensors scanning for threats and opportunities.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+wits(2)+1= 9 versus 1 / 4, Strong Hit
Mark Progress.
Along the way, Bingo passed by several well-lit intersections. This section of the ship seemed to have full power. He proceeded on, trusting in Ahab’s directions.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+wits(2) = 8 versus 2 / 7, Strong Hit.
Mark Progress.
Bingo continued floating down the hallway, correcting his course as he went. He passed a room with a green panel marked, “Animal Testing.” Another spot that would be prudent for inventory, surely. He regarded it carefully.
Move: Explore a Waypoint
1d6+wits(2) = 6 versus 3 / 9, Weak Hit
+1 momentum, envision what you encounter
Inside of the laboratory, there are rows of animals in cages, various old-world animals alongside Forge-born creatures. Most remarkable was the room-sized cage holding a large beetle that would have floated freely in space were it not wrapped in some sort of leash. The beetle seemed to be alive and moving, trying to free itself.
Bingo knew from reading corporate reports that void-capable animals were quite valuable. He documented his findings with pictures on the datapad, and thought that even void-capable animals had limits. Perhaps he should free it.
He opened the cage and floated inside, thinking that the animal wouldn’t hurt him if he moved quickly enough to cut it loose.
Move: Face Danger
1d6+edge(2) = 4 versus 5 / 7, Miss
Pay the Price
Move: Endure Stress (1 stress)
Bingo moved to free the animal, but found his arms were not under his control.
“Captain Ahab,” he said, remembering the honorific, “Please release the controls on my EVA suit,”
“What are you prattling about now? I ain’t in your suit!” the AI replied.
“Why can’t I move then?” Bingo thought, unable to correct his course as he bounced into the wall of the cage. The problem wasn’t the suit, but rather that he couldn’t will himself to move his limbs.
“The beast must have some sort of telepathic empathetic control of me,” he said, “It is trapped, and now I am too. Fascinating.”
Bingo floated about the cabin, totally helpless. As his path gently pinballed him about the room and towards the beast, he became worried, and he fought against its control.
Move: Face Danger
1d6+heart(1) = 4 versus 4 / 1, Weak Hit
-1 momentum
Bingo thought hard enough and broke free of the insect’s mental grasp, kicking off of the floor away from it.
“I’ll be coming back for you later, void-capable animals are worth a fortune and I simply cannot pass this up, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
Bingo dusted his EVA suit off and kicked his way back towards the hallway.
In the vacuum of space, all Bingo could truly feel was pressure. Pressure to climb the ladder, pressure to save Tara, and countless others that were no doubt coming his way. He could feel it there, ever present in the back of his mind. He floated down the hallway and fought back tears, alone and afraid for his newfound friend. In a fit of rage, he kicked off the hallways rapidly in an effort to make progress faster.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+edge(2) = 6 versus 9 / 2, Weak Hit
Mark Progress, Suffer Moves
Move: Lose Momentum (1 momentum)
Move: Endure Stress (1 spirit, now at 0 spirit)
1d6+heart(1) = 2 versus 5 / 6, Miss
-2 momentum, mark shaken
Bingo couldn’t hold back the waterworks. The inside of his EVA helmet began to fog up from the tears as he hovered down the hallway.
Captain Ahab spoke up, “What are ye crying for, lad? You got all your fingers and toes, don’t ye? You can have the strength to go on.”
“Shut up!” Bingo snapped, “I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you and your stupid fucking creators. I hate Taxcan and their shitty ships! I hate Merprise and their dirty tricks! But most of all, I hate the Silver Veil for not paying me enough for this bullshit!”
Bingo stopped crying, a panic setting in.
“No, no, no, no please tell me that the recorder isn’t on and didn’t capture that.”
Bingo snagged hold of a doorframe, catching himself and frantically working on his datapad to erase the last 30 seconds, knowing full well that it could be caught in an audit but also knowing that it would be worse if the moment was witnessed. It was a risk that he was willing to take.
“Please tell me,” Bingo said, trying to recover his composure, “That we are close to the medical bay.”
Captain Ahab projected himself onto the holopad screen, holding up a scrolled map before turning it around, “Ye be here,” he said, pointing at a spot on the schematics and noting a few dangerous looking areas where Ahab had scribbled, “Here be monsters,”
Bingo kicked off again, knowing which way to not go, hopefully.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
1d6+wits(3) = 7 versus 7 / 1, Weak Hit
Mark Progress, Envision a Peril
84 = Signs of a broken quarantine
By all accounts, Bingo should be at the medical bay. The map said so, and so did Ahab, casting a shaded eye about the way, pantomiming searching from the holoprojector. Bingo found the entrance just off on of the ship’s spine’s side passages.
Stepping through, he found a series of stretchers chained down to the floor. The gurney’s straps were ragged and split, almost as if something had bitten through them.
“What had Taxcan been getting up to. I’ll have to see if any of the logs can be decrypted, surely there’s some notes here.”
He looked about, hoping to find a cache of medical supplies and advanced equipment and his search was rewarded. An incubator and other useful objects were all present. Now it was time to move them back to the ship. He tried to broadcast one last time, to let Casablance know that he was coming back.
Move: Finish an Expedition (Discovery XIII)
10 progress versus 2 / 9, Strong Hit
Mark 1 box on Discoveries Legacy
Move: Reach a Milestone (Stabilize Tara)
Mark Progress (2 boxes progress)
Radio silence, still. Whatever was jamming his equipment was annoying. “My next order of business,” he thought to himself as he raided the medical bay for equipment.
Move: Resupply
1d6+wits(3) = 7 versus 4 / 7, Weak Hit
+2 supply, Deal with a complication
Bingo strapped equipment down on a daisy chain of the gurney and pulled it behind him, set on following his path back through the ship the same way that he had come down. It would likely be slower, and he couldn’t quite make it back with everything on this trip, but now that he knew where it was he would come back and carve a hole with a plasma torch from the outside.
Move: Set a Course
1d6+supply(5) = 6 versus 1 / 8, Weak Hit
You arrive. Envision a complication
Lose Momentum (-1)
Lose Supply (-1)
Despite his best efforts, Bingo lost time and materials from his supply train. Ragged and exhausted, he reached the Blank Check with the incubator for Tara.
Move: Reach a Milestone (Stabilize Tara)
Mark Progress (2 boxes)
He punched commands into his datapad, hoping that the equipment would respond this close despite whatever jamming was currently taking place. The ramp opened, and Bingo shoved all of the weightless material into the hold before entering himself and pressing the manual close button. He enabled the artificial gravity, happy to feel the weight despite all of his pressures. He doffed his EVA suit.
He maneuvered the gurney with the incubator on it into the cargo lift and stepped inside himself, raising it up to the main deck.
There he was greeted at the top of the lift by Casablanca, who lowered a handgun that she had pointed at him. “You scared me to death, I had no idea that you were coming back. In fact, I was getting ready to dust off and leave your ass, I thought that whatever was jamming us had caught you.”
Before he could stop himself, Bingo clinched her in a hug, “You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” he said.
A few moments later, he realized what he was doing and caught himself, shoving away and saying, “Erm, I mean, it’s nice working as a team. Maybe we could work together.”
Move: Make a Connection
1d6+heart(1) = 4 versus 5 / 1, Weak Hit
Casablanca, Rank: Dangerous. Role: Corporate Spy
Envision what they reveal or demand
“Easy there, Romeo. I prefer to keep things professional. Sure, we can work together. I can tell you all about my next job, but aren’t you forgetting something?”
Bingo jumped up, “Oh! Tara! I have an incubator. Please, help me if you can.”
Bingo wheeled the gurney towards the Blank Check’s engineering room, hoping that he wasn’t too late. He felt Tara, still cold as ice but breathing slowly as marked by the rise and fall of her chest.
He lifted her up, noting that he was already sweating being so close to the ship’s heat sinks. He placed her onto the gurney, placed the incubator’s lamps over her and switched it on. There were a series of fluids to give her as well. Bingo did his best.
Move: Heal
1d6+wits(3)= 7 versus 8 /10, Miss
The situation worsens. Pay the Price.
38 - Something of value is lost or destroyed
As Bingo looked over the tubes and fluids meant to keep Tara alive and warm, he realized that the incubator was producing less heat than the engine’s heat sinks were. Frustrated beyond all redemption, Bingo tore the infernal unit from the gurney and threw it against the wall, shattering it into dozens of tiny delicate pieces.
He wheeled the gurney back towards the engine and left her there.
“I’m sorry!” he yelled at nobody, “I’m trying my best, I really am. Fuck! I can’t even call for assistance.”
He stormed out, looking for Casablanca while bringing up Captain Ahab to the datapad.
“Transfer to my ship, please. We’ve got to kill that jammer.”
Silently, he swore to himself, “I’m going to destroy the jammer.”
Move: Swear an Iron Vow (Destroy the Comms Jammer)
Rank: Troublesome (3 boxes per progress)
1d6+heart(1) = 6 versus 7 / 4, Weak Hit
+1 momentum, envision what must be done
“Alright, alright,” Bingo thought to himself, “First thing, I need some tea and to calm down.”
He made his way to the galley, watching as Ahab jumped to the ship’s computer network. His voice came over the intercoms, “Avast, lash the sails and make ready.”
Bingo rounded the corner into the galley, where he found Casablanca waiting for him.
“There you are,” he said, “And no help with Tara, I see.”
Casablanca shrugged, “I’m not a doctor. Are we going to get back to work soon, or what?”
Bingo turned on the kettle and prepared his mug.
“Momentarily. There’s just this matter of the communications problem. I’m handling it. Do you know anything about that?”
“Hmm, perhaps,” Casablanca said, “I did have a class on signals intelligence. The first thing to do is to try and triangulate the source of whatever is being broadcast.”
Bingo took the now-warm kettle and poured it over the teabag, steeping it and feeling the heat on his hands. It was relaxing.
“Okay, good. Let’s strategize. So there’s a broadcast? I thought it was a jammer?”
Casablanca shook her head, “What, you think it’s like some sort of anti-communications weapon? No, a jammer is just a signal that is “louder” than yours, so to speak. It drowns yours out by using up the frequencies to make it not go out.”
Bingo nodded, “Okay. So we should be able to find it. Thank you, that’s what I needed to know. It feels good to work out a plan.”
Move: Hearten
1d6+heart(1)+connection(1) = 5 versus 6 / 2, Weak Hit
-1 momentum, remove shaken, +1 spirit
The two discussed their plan. As they worked, the avatar of Ashkelon projected itself onto the display, her face turned upside down into a frown as she wore a cowboy hat.
“This ship isn’t big enough for the two of us,” she said as Ahab manifested next to her.
“Yar, it do be a little crowded,” he said, “But make do, we will. Now, if it pleases you, Mister Kobayashi, have your dumb AI give the controls to me, a smart one.”
Bingo spoke, “I’m sorry, Ashkelon, but his services may be beneficial. It’s cost versus benefit, I’m sure you understand.”
Ashkelon’s face became angry, and she subsided without another word.
“Okay, Captain Ahab,” Bingo said, not skipping a beat, “Let’s do some scans. Find strong signals, let’s move to at least three different points, right, Cas?”
“Don’t call me that,” she said, “But yes, that’s why they call it triangulation.”
Move: Secure an Advantage
1d6+wits(3)+connection(1) = 9 versus 4 / 2, Strong Hit
+2 momentum, +1 on next move
With the data collected, Bingo tried to figure out the source of the signal. He requested Casablanca’s help.
Move: Gather Information
1d6+wits(3)+SAA(1)+connection(1) = 10 versus 4 / 3, Strong Hit
+2 momentum
“Alright, so we think it’s here, right? That antenna?”
Move: Reach a Milestone (Destroy Jammer)
Mark Progress (3 progress)
“Captain Ahab, load the cannons. Precision is of vital essence. I don’t want to lose the rest of the derelict, but the responsibility will be mine. I’ll take the shot manually.”
Bingo performed calculations, once, twice, and then a third time, tweaking the load as he thought would be appropriate.
Move: Secure an Advantage
1d6+wits(3)= 7 versus 8 / 8, Miss with a Match
95 = roll twice
57 = Your equipment or vehicle malfunctions
33 = Something of value is lost or destroyed
“Mister Kobayashi?” Captain Ahab said cautiously, “Yer cannons are runnin’ cold. Some sort of malfunction.”
He brought up a video feed from engineering, “Yer friend down there, she’s suckin’ the heat right out of the engines. Draining your batteries, too. The ship can’t keep up.”
Bingo could feel himself losing his cool again.
“Fine. Maneuver us closer. I’ll cut in with a plasma torch and blow it up myself. We’ve got to hurry.”
The ship moved, and Bingo hustled to don an EVA suit. Rather than exiting the cargo hold, he used the bridge’s airlock, making sure that his plasma torch and a fair amount of X10 explosive was secured.
He hit the ship’s local intercom, “Alright, Casablanca. This ship is worth at least three of my paychecks, which I’m willing to split with you if you just don’t leave me, no matter how bad it gets please don’t leave me.”
Now that the ship was in position, he opened the airlock without waiting for Casablanca’s reply and free-flew to the spot that he was sure the jammer was positioned at. He landed hard and secured himself to the ship with a magnetic tether before going to work to cut a hole in.
Move: Face Danger
1d6+edge(2) = 5 versus 9 / 6, Miss
Pay the Price
45 = a new enemy is revealed
Bingo’s plasma torch cut through the hull of the ship as he created a hole big enough for him to fit in. After changing the fuel cylinder out twice, he finally had a section large enough. He lifted up with a magnet prying it loose, struggling against the zero-G to get it out of the way.
As he threw it loose, he detected a faint movement inside of the ship. A humanoid figure emerged from the shadows within, eyeball-less and with an open maw full of jagged, shattered teeth. It kicked off the deck, coming right for Bingo.
Move: Enter the Fray
Objective: Survive. Rank: Dangerous
1d6+wits(3) = 5 versus 1 / 8, Weak Hit
I take control
Bingo pulled on his tether, hoping to get out of the way of the strange..zombie?
“The balefire, it’s ruined this person.”
Move: Gain Ground
1d6+edge(2) = 5 versus 6 / 1, Weak Hit
Mark Progress (2 boxes)
Bingo tugged himself out of the way. As the corpse flew his direction, he activated the plasma torch on a long, narrow beam, hoping to burn away some of the monster.
Move: Strike
1d6+edge(2) = 8 versus 9 / 1, Weak Hit
Mark Progress twice (4 boxes marked), In a Bad Spot
The flaming zombie defied the laws of physics. Its clothing now alit in the void of space, it moved unnaturally as it altered its direction somehow and drifted towards Bingo once again. He scrambled to move into the hole that he had cut in the ship.
Move: React Under Fire
1d6+edge(2)= 4 versus 2 / 4, Weak Hit
Burn 5 momentum for a Strong Hit
+1 momentum, In Control
Bingo was sure that the flaming creature was going to wrap him in a bear hug and smolder him while smothering him. At the last moment, before contact was made, he deactivated the magnetic tether and shoved himself into the ship’s hold. He once again turned the torch onto the monster, spouting a line of plasma at the only avenue of approach.
Move: Strike
1d6+edge(2) = 5 versus 4 / 1, Strong Hit
Mark Progress twice (4 boxes, progress bar 10)
Bingo wouldn’t stop the flame.
Move: Take Decisive Action
10 progress versus 7 / 4, Strong Hit
+1 momentum
The thing's head burned clear off of its body, and Bingo kicked it away. He watched as it drifted further out of view, shrinking against the backdrop of space until he could see it no longer. He snapped himself out of his stupor and began the process of setting up the explosives.
Move: Reach a Milestone (Destroy the Jammer)
Mark Progress (3 boxes)
Bingo set the explosives, realizing that he was looking at some sort of sophisticated antenna that he didn’t recognize. He withdrew, setting a jump for the hoping that he had set enough to finish the job, but not so much that it damaged anything valuable elsewhere in the ship.
Move: Face Danger
1d6+wits(3) = 6 versus 10 / 4, Weak Hit
Sacrifice Resources (-1 supply)
The explosion was too much. Looking back, Bingo could see that he had destroyed too large of a section of ship. That was definitely going to come out of his pay.
Move: Reach a Milestone
Mark Progress (3 boxes)
But still, it looked like the job was done. He raised Captain Ahab on the comms and tried to arrange for a pickup.
Move: Fulfill Your Vow
9 progress versus 4 / 3, Strong Hit
1 tick on quests legacies
Bingo couldn’t be more pleased to hear the stupid smart AI’s persona over the airwaves.
“Yar, mate. We’ll be coming to pick you up shortly.”
While Bingo drifted in space, he turned and looked out at the stars, most of which he was reasonably sure that he had never seen before. He soaked it in, a moment in time where he didn’t feel the weight of his obligations pulling him down.
Move: Hearten
1d6+heart(1) = 5 versus 6 / 4, Weak Hit
-1 momentum, +2 spirit
Ahab brought the Blank Check around to pick up Bingo, who re-entered through the bridge’s airlock. He doffed his suit, and made his way to the galley where Casablanca sat reading something on her tablet.
“Alright, we’re clear. Going to radio to headquarters the location of this scrap heap so I can get the credit for it. Half’s yours, just like I said.”
Move: Develop Your Relationship
Mark Progress (2 boxes)
Casablanca smiled and said, “Thanks,” before turning her attention back to her datapad, “ I actually already got my next assignment. Must have been waiting for me, since the jammer’s offline I only received it.”
“Well, let me know if you need any help. I’m going to call my handler,” Bingo said, leaving the galley and headed for the bridge.
Once there, he dialed in Senior Acquisitor Manga’s commcode and waited for the Weave connection to establish. Manga picked up, and Bingo could see that he was shirtless with a towel around his shoulder.
Manga sweated as he spoke, “Yes, Acquisitor?”
Bingo bowed slightly, “Sir, I have good news and a great success to report. Taxcan Intergalactics research ship Discovery XIII has met the standards for derelict status, and I am sending you its location, as well as a summary of my preliminary findings.”
Move: Develop Your Relationship
Mark Progress (1 box)
“What? A Trashcan ship? Discovery series, one of their science vessels? Good work, Bingo,” Manga said, dropping his usual formalities, “What were they working on?”
“Balefire experiments, I think” he said, only now remembering that Tara had been on board and that technically made her the last survivor, whether she had legally died or not. He wondered best how to request medical attention without attracting suspicion. And no mention of Ahab, either. That was something that he could keep in his pocket for later.
“Sir, you may want to send a qualified doctor. From what I can tell, there are a few corpses on board that could use a good autopsy.”
Move: Face Danger
1d6+shadow(2) = 7 versus 3 / 5, Strong Hit
+1 momentum
“Right, of course. Any other requests?”
“Sir, I have another Silver Veil agent on-board. She is requesting that I taxi her to her next mission. We both could use a resupply.”
“Granted, but of course you know that the expenses may be deducted from your finder’s fee for the ship.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Bingo smiled a shit-eating grin, “As long as I get some credit for the find, I am pleased to serve Silver Veil, Incorporated.”
“Live prosperously,” Senior Acquisitor Manga said, and Bingo echoed, “Live prosperously.”
The communication terminated. Now it was only a matter of time waiting for the cavalry.
Bingo was worried about Tara and the ship. How long would the batteries last with her freezing the engine’s lines? It was enough that she was cold, but for her to be siphoning off the heat was another matter.
He left the bridge and went to engineering to check on her.
Move: End a Session
Move: Reach a Milestone (Stabilize Tara)
Mark Progress (2 progress)
Next session focus: Helping Casablanca, stabilizing Tara
+1 momentum
