>>3425209
>>A deserter in the Royal Army, too disgusted by the orders to kill civilians to remain in service.
If possible female.
>[While we're on the subject. Think of a name for our protagonist.]
Laura Pennyworth

>>3425209
>>A deserter in the Royal Army, too disgusted by the orders to kill civilians to remain in service.
>Laura Pennyworth

>>3425209
>A deserter in the Royal Army, too disgusted by the orders to kill civilians to remain in service.
>Reginald Deiter

>>3425209

>A folk hero to the people. You’ve always stolen from the rich to give to the poor, but now you see there’s an even bigger injustice to fight.
>Josef Vladimir Che Castro Mao Marx

>>3425209
>A void pirate. The injustice suffered by your kin called you home, vengeance burning in your chest.

Harlan McDunn

>>3425209
>>A deserter in the Royal Army, too disgusted by the orders to kill civilians to remain in service.
>Marco Riviera

>>3425209
Changing from >>3425289 to >>3425301

>>3425262
>>3425276
>>3425301
>>3425308

Our hero used to belong to the Army, but deserted after orders proved to cruel to follow.

The true vote now is whether they are
>Laura Pennyworth
or
>Marco Riviera

The new vote is now open.

>>3425321
>>Marco Riviera

>>3425321
>>Laura Pennyworth

>>3425321
>Marco Riviera
though I feel like it should be something Marcus Ripa, if the names use one uniform language (presumably derive from Latin).

>>3425321
>Laura Pennyworth

>>3425321

>Marco Riviera

I'll support this too >>3425339

>>3425321
>>Laura Pennyworth

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Might as well flip a coin.

1. Corporal Pennyworth
2. Corporal Riviera

>>3425321
>Marco Riviera

File: CF7FCF54-3AB4-46E4-8033-6(...).png (773 KB, 650x790)

773 KB PNG

>>3425366
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

penisworth

>>3425332
>>3425339
>>3425348
>>3425367

Anon missed it only by seven seconds, so I'm going to count it.

But this won't be the last of Ms. Pennyworth.

[Writing Now]

File: 1549519623009.jpg (29 KB, 400x504)

29 KB JPG

>>3425370
Sorry anon, you canNOT be the little girl!

You are formerly of the Royal Army. Originally one of the garrison troops who were tasked with keeping order and making sure taxes and the like ran smoothly. While the demonstrations, graffiti, and harsh words were an inconvenience, the reaction from Imperial Command on the Throne World of Muria was far too much. After all, you'd joined to keep the peace, not murder your fellow citizens!

You and a few of your Army companions quit right then and joined with the revolutionaries. Their outfit benefited greatly from your experience, training and, most importantly, knowledge of how the Army would move. That isn't to say that the relief force and the remaining garrison troops were oblivious to your actions it wasn't long before posters appeared in Freefall's main cities and province villages with the faces of you and your friends.

WANTED FOR DESERTION AND TREASON
Marco Riviera, Human, 26
Chelsea Jenkins, Human, 22
Jayce Cruz, Human, 36
Eddy O’Quinn, Human, 55
Torossk Ur Kaazs, Thelosan, 112

ALIVE: 100,000 Credits
DEAD: 50,000 Credits.

You're a little disappointed you don't rate much higher than that, but that's fine. No one in the village where you and the other rebels are based would sell you out. Too many of them have been abused by the system to rat you out. Besides, you have something else on your mind right now.


>Torossk is planning a raid on a weapons shipment in orbit.
>Chelsea has a lead on more sympathizers with donations.
>Jayce and Eddy look like they're about to head out on a recon patrol of the village and farmland.
>You need to check in with the main city's branch.

>>3425427
>>Torossk is planning a raid on a weapons shipment in orbit.
GUNS GUNS GUNS

>>3425427

>Chelsea has a lead on more sympathizers with donations.

We need space shekels first and foremost

>>3425427
>>Chelsea has a lead on more sympathizers with donations.
DOSH

>>3425427
>>You need to check in with the main city's branch.
Gives us the reason to not be there when the military takes out a rebel base

>>3425427
>Chelsea has a lead on more sympathizers with donations.

>>3425427
>You need to check in with the main city's branch.

>>3425436
>>3425439
>>3425457

Checking in with Chels and seeing what kind of aid the local population can give.

[WRITING NOW]

There are a few tasks that weigh on your mind: Torossk seems to be planning on taking a shipment of weapons destined for the current Royalist occupiers. The giant lizard man is muttering something to himself that you can't make out, but you're pretty sure its the jump equation for your only space worthy shuttle. The thing is old and doesn't have the escape algorithms already stored in the autopilot. Torossk's massive tail sweeps idly across the floor behind him, stirring up a small bit of dust. He doesn't look like he's ready to move on the shipment just yet, maybe you'll be able to take part in a bit of action some time later.

You watch Jayce Cruz and Eddy O'Quinn leave out the back door on their covert patrol. Should the Royalists show up unannounced, the rest of the rebels staying here are relying on them as their last warning to leave. You think about going with them as an extra pair of eyes, but think better of it. As they say, two is company; three's an easily spotted group.

Lastly you think about radioing in to the base in the main port city on Freefall. Because of Freefall's extreme gravity, the Main Port is located at the highest level elevation the human colony could build on. Having ears in this city is vital for all cells on Freefall. But checkins with Main Porters is strictly regulated with specific times and days for contact. Breaking that could be seen as a sign that your cell was compromised or at risk of it. No reason to test that now.

The deciding factor in your choice is a small grumble from your stomach. Being outlaws comes with its own list of associated risks. Perpetually low funds being at the top of that list. Off near the front of your little hideout, Chelsea is taking stock of your remaining inventory before heading out on a donations runs. Might as well see if she needs another strong back.

"Chels." You call out to her in the couple of steps it takes to get from the dedicated 'quarters' space to the 'supply' space. "You got anything good coming in?"

"Marco." She greets back. Her frizzy, copper hair is barely contained by the combined efforts of three hair ties and the assistance of the now-emblemless military beret sitting comfortably on top of her head. She taps the end of her pencil to her bottom lip in thought. "I suppose I could use you. One of our contacts says we should bring a truck to pick up what he's giving us, so I imagine its either big, heavy, or a bunch of things."

You nod with a smirk on your lips and give a quick arm flex to sell yourself up to her. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes and you before heading out the front to the truck she'd borrowed for this.

"Come one, Muscles, we're on a timetable." She mocks you as she does.

You follow right behind her stopping to pick up...

>[Choose your loadout for this mission.]

>>3425537
>Pistol and knife. 3 Charge Packs for the pistol. It's a logistics mission. No need to bring out the artillery.
>Assault Beam Rifle (ABR) 6 Charge Packs and Pistol or Knife. A little more conspicous, but better flexibility should things go south.
>Marksman's Beam Rifle (MBR) 6 Charge Packs and Pistol or Knife. Somewhat conspicous, but a more cautious approach.
>Heavy Repeating Beam Rifle (HRBR) 2 Heavy Charge Packs, 3 Charge Packs, Pistol or Knife. A little overdressed for the occasion.
>Light Repeating Beam Rifle (LRBR) 6 Charge Packs, Pistol or Knife. Compact, deadly, and versatile. Chews through Charge Packs like candy though.

>>3425542
>Assault Beam Rifle (ABR) 6 Charge Packs and Pistol. A little more conspicous, but better flexibility should things go south.
We don't wanna be under prepared or over, this is probably the best in between.

>>3425542
>>Assault Beam Rifle (ABR) 6 Charge Packs and Pistol or Knife. A little more conspicous, but better flexibility should things go south.

>>3425542
>Assault Beam Rifle (ABR) 6 Charge Packs and Pistol or Knife. A little more conspicous, but better flexibility should things go south.
Best way to dissuade anybody thinking about funny business.

>>3425542
>Assault Beam Rifle (ABR) 6 Charge Packs and Pistol or Knife. A little more conspicous, but better flexibility should things go south.

Pretty balanced loadout

>>3425542
>>3425551
>>3425558
>>3425559
>>3425580
Did you want to take the Pistol sidearm or the combat knife?

>Pistol
>Knife

>>3425622
>Knife

>>3425622
>Knife
If they get close enough for you to need your pistol, you're already dead.

>>3425622
>>Knife

You very quickly sling the ABR over your shoulder and pocket a few Charge Packs before slipping your trusty knife into its sheath on your hip. Now you're dressed and ready to face the day. You open the door to the car port attacked to the hideout and see Chelsea getting in the bulky front of the truck. The Thelosan family you borrowed the flatbed truck from are supporters of the cause and have offered to claim Torossk as kin should the Royalists get a little too nosy.

Freefall, for the most part, lives up to its reputation as a backwater. Sandy soil, violent and irregular volcanic activity, but rich in heavy minerals. The Crown set up mines here and sent human colonists to tame the land for the Empire way back in the day. When they found the Thelosans, opinions on either side were about as heated as the volcanoes. In the end, humanity did what it does best and overwhelmed the poor bastards with sheer numbers, forcing the reptilians to sign an agreement and joining the Empire as a client species. They remained bitter, but time and constant mistreatment at the hands of Crown policy wore then down. Tensions have cooled enough since then, but the rebellion has reawakened a sense of pride back in them. The idea of a self-governing Freefall, or Thelosa as they called it before we arrived, was enough to bring a resurgence in Thelosan customs and pride.

Chelsea hits the ignition switch, forcing the engine to groan to life and activating the anti-grav wells under the vehicle. The whole thing bounces up into the air gracelessly, jostling the two of you around a bit. You fellow deserter looks at you and the gun for a second.

"Probably a good idea, but I hope we don't need it." She sighs loudly over the sound of the engine.

"That's the idea, Chels." You reply in a similar fashion. "Hope for the best; prepare for the worst."

She laughs and throws the truck into reverse and pulls away from the hideout, tearing down the dirt road and out of the Podunk little village.

"So what are we picking up?" You shout through the engine.

"Not exactly sure yet. The guy just said we should bring a truck. I'm a little hesitant to without knowing what it is, but we are hurting bad for supply. If this doesn't pan out, then we better learn of a good way to cook Charge Packs and dirt."

>Make a joke back.
>Ask what she knows about the guy.
>Ask about her.
>Ask her opinion on the movement.
>Ask something else? [Write in]

>>3425712
>Ask what she knows about the guy.
Every bit counts.

>>3425712
>>Ask what she knows about the guy.

>>3425712

>Ask what she knows about the guy.

>>3425712
>Make a joke back.

>>3425742
>>3425813
>>3425828

Digging for more information.


[WRITING NOW]

The truck rattles on down the road; an impressive feat for a hovering vehicle, you think to yourself.

"So what do you know about this guy?" You shout again.

"Old guy. His named John Bennett. He's relatively new to the sympathizers list, but he's lived there basically all his life according to a few locals. We've picked up from him before, but nothing that required any preparation like this. Seemed nice enough, and I know that's not a qualifier on trustworthiness, but I'm just saying he was at least polite and actually seems grateful for what we're doing."

"Good to know someone is." You quip back, barely audible.

"What?"

"I said, 'Good to know someone is.'" You repeat yourself.

The conversation dies there for several miles as the truck rattles its way across the countryside.

"Chels." You call out to get her attention. She turns briefly to look at you before looking back at the road. "What kind of place does this guy have. I want to know what zones to check. You know, just in case." You shrug and make a motion with the rifle.

"Two story homestead. Wooden, from the look of it. Old as hell. There's a livestock barn to the east a small ways away. I don't think he's kept animals in there for years, though. Probably for machinery now. Tin silo for corn next to that. It seems to be in functioning shape. Crops growing behind the house itself. This is the only road out there and he doesn't have neighbors around for miles. Lucky bastard has one of the only patches of workable soil on this hemisphere." She laughs somewhat bitterly.

You haven't talked too much to Chelsea outside of work duties, but you do remember that her family are sharecroppers on the other side of the planet. She would constantly make jokes back at the garrison about she joined up purely for the chance to eat 3 hot meals a day. There are times you wonder if that was more than just a joke.

>>3425999
You don't get to dwell on that too much longer though. Chelsea smacks your shoulder lightly with the back of her hand.

"Heads up, Riviera, we're here."

The truck pulls off the road and through an old wooden gateway. A long faded sign wordlessly welcomes you to the Bennett ranch. A white haired, rotund, saggy-cheeked man is waiting on a shady porch. He sits in a rocking chair next to a walking cane, wearing a blue checkered shirt, a rough pair of dull denim slacks, and well polished western-styled boots. The man picks a white, wide-brimmed hat off the side of the chair, places it on his head, and hobbles out to the truck with the help of his cane.

"Oh, well, hey there darlin'! I am so glad you came back again. Helpin' you folks out is one of the few pleasures left for me in this galaxy." He smiles widely, revealing twin rows of pristine, but clearly artificial teeth.

"Well, we appreciate your donations, sir. Its all for a good cause." Chelsea replies, getting out of the car. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought a friend along with me. He's a bit of a knucklehead, so you have permission to hit him if he starts goofing off."

"Har, har. You know I used to out rank you back in the day." You hop out of the truck, putting the rifle back over your shoulder.

>"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Give him a hearty handshake. [Give Chels the rifle]
>"Just tell me where the cargo is and I'll get it loaded." Get down to brass tacks. [Give Chels the rifle]
>"I'm just here to provide a little extra security. She's doing the loading." [Make Chels to the work.]

>>3426002

>"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Give him a hearty handshake. [Give Chels the rifle]

>>3426002
>"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Give him a hearty handshake. [Give Chels the rifle]
Respect your elders.

>>3426002
>>"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Give him a hearty handshake. [Give Chels the rifle]

>>3426002
>"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Give him a hearty handshake. [Give Chels the rifle]

>>3426012
>>3426016
>>3426035
>>3426038

Hearts and Minds, Chels. Hearts and Minds.

[WRITING NOW]

You take the rifle off your shoulder and hand it off to Chelsea as she hops onto the bed of the truck and sits on the top of the cab, the gun resting in her arms and here eyes on the road. You extend your arm and the old man responds in kind with a firm and hearty handshake. He even pats you on the shoulder with an approving chuckle.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mister Bennett. Let's go take care of that cargo." You give him a friendly smile.

"Good on ya, son. Good on ya. I've got the stuff just inside the barn next to the harvester. Should have enough canned foodstuffs for all y'all to eat good for a year." He eagerly limps towards the old barn as quick as his old legs and cane can take him.

"I can't tell ya just how noble an undertakin' I think it is that y'all have set yerselves upon." He continues on as you follow behind him. The two of you open the barn doors and you see three large wooden crates.

"Wow, sir. That's a lot of food. Are you sure you're okay with this?" You're a little surprised at the size of his donation. Most of the time, what Chels picks up is enough for a meal or two, or simply a handful of credits. Hell, your current safehouse was donated to the rebels by the local mayor after settling a couple violent disputes for him and the sheriff.

John Bennett turns you to face him and meet his eyes. The chestnut color is marred by some slight yellowing.

"Son, I'm an old man. I've lived a long life and I've filled that life with all kinds of things. Too many of them are things I'm not necessarily proud of. And before I leave this mortal coil, I want to do something decent for my fellow man... or lizard even. So, please, take it and ease the weight on my soul." He pleads with you.

>Honor his wishes and start packing up all 3 [John is grateful.] [The safehouse will have ample rations for a year.]
>Leave one box. [John is disappointed.] [The safehouse will have less than ideal rations for a year.]
>Leave two. [John is insulted at this refusal of good will] [The safehouse will have meager rations for a year.]

>>3426099
>>Leave one box. [John is disappointed.] [The safehouse will have less than ideal rations for a year.]
Still, we don't wish to leave someone without food.

>>3426099

>Leave one box. [John is disappointed.] [The safehouse will have less than ideal rations for a year.]

>>3426099
>[The safehouse will have less than ideal rations for a year.]
We can supplement the food with wild animals

>>3426099
>Leave one box. [John is disappointed.] [The safehouse will have less than ideal rations for a year.]
I'm not planning on taking too much.

>>3426099
>>Leave one box. [John is disappointed.] [The safehouse will have less than ideal rations for a year.]

>>3426106
>>3426129
>>3426132
>>3426139
>>3426140

Torossk could stand to go on a diet anyway. Leaving one box won't kill anyone.


[WRITING NOW]

"Mister Bennett. I cannot tell you how much we appreciate your donation." You start. You see smile widen with pride and relief. "But we cannot in good conscience take all your food. We're fighting for better living for all of us on this dirt clod of a planet and you're a part of that, whether you're on death's door or not." It stings to watch his smile drop as he shakes his head.

"I see, I see. You fellas are better folks than men like me deserves to know." He lays it on a little thick, but you think that's just the disappointment. "I wish y'all the best of luck."

You pick up the first of the boxes and... holy shit these things must be packed to goddamned brim with food stuffs from how much they weigh. How did a frail old man like John get these back here let alone full. Maybe that's he's hobbling round complaining about being just a few steps from perdition.

You managed to haul the first box up to the bed of the truck and inform Chelsea of what's going on before John can get in earshot. Her eyes soften and she sighs.

"Stupid old man..." She chastises to no one. "Well two ought to last us long enough without too much complaining. Torossk or Jayce complain, we'll just make em hunt for the rest of their dinner. Good job, Marco." She taps the top of your head with the side of her fist without breaking eye contact with the road.

"Now get that other box. The sooner we're out of here the sooner all of us can go about our days." She commands.

"Yes ma'am." Your words drip with sarcasm as you offer a half-assed salute and turn to get the last box.

When you get back to the barn, John is going through both boxes, rearranging some items. He looks to be taking out a few small parcels of paper-wrapped dried meats and replacing them with... are those peach preserves?

"Well ya might not be takin' all of it, but I figure you folks might enjoy somethin' sweet every now an' then." He smiles sheepishly.

"I'm sure some of the boy'll appreciate that, Mister Bennett." You smile back and help him repack the box you're taking.

"Welp!" You say with a grunt as you put the box in the back and close the tailgate. "That'd be our donations from Mister Bennett. More than a good haul, if you ask me." You clap your hands together, knocking the collected dust off of them.

"I didn't, but noted." Chelsea finally pulls her eyes off the road. "Its about time we scram."

"It was a pleasure seein' ya again, darlin'." The old man extends a hand for her to shake and then offering it to you. "And a pleasure meetin' ya, son. Go give those rotten Offworlders a good smack for me!" He laughs and hobbles back to his chair in the shade of the porch, blotting at his forehead with a handkerchief.

Chelsea hands you your rifle back and gets back into the truck. You follow suit soon after, resting the rifle across your lap. She starts up the vehicle and the two of you head on away from the ranch.

>>3426278
"Do you think that was all the food he had?" You ask your friend.

"Probably. Last time I met him, he wasn't dressed nearly as nicely. Had a pretty scraggly beard, too. My guess he's waiting for an excuse to pass. God knows why." She remarks.

>"Any other stops today? We got one helluva haul."
>"So how are things with you?"
>"Let's gets this back to base. I'll unload it so you can get going to the next supporter."
>"We have a tail."

>>3426281
>"Any other stops today? We got one helluva haul."
...
Suspicion is digging at me.
Check the peach preserves if we can, while the truck is moving.

File: efZ2U3n.png (143 KB, 352x501)

143 KB PNG

>spoiler
Why are you hiding that, QM?

>>3426290
dramatic tension?

>>3426281
Seconding >>3426287

>>3426287
Supporting...

>>3426287
>>3426295
>>3426324

Its a little ludicrous to do it while moving, but stopping to check the supplies is doable.


[WRITING NOW]

"So what's next?" You ask Chelsea. "Any other stops today? We've got more food now than we've had for the last week." The loud rumble of the engine still making you strain your ears and vocal chords despite how close the two of you are to each other right now.

"Nope. That was the only one scheduled for today. This one was kind of a special case for obvious reasons."

"Speaking of special cases," You interject. "Would you mind pulling over real quick. I want to a quick check through the boxes. Can't be too careful, right?"

Chelsea shrugs and pulls the truck over to the side of the dirt road. As far as the eye can see, there's nothing but dust and mountains in any directions. The wind's intensity is starting to pick up a little, making you glad you have your PPE. You put on the eye wear and the mask and get out to check.

>Leave the gun in the truck.
>Take the gun with you.

>>3426349
>>Take the gun with you.

>>3426349
>>Take the gun with you.

>>3426349
>Take the gun with you.

Rolled 2, 4, 20, 20, 6 = 52 (5d20)

>>3426351
>>3426369
>>3426374

Taking the rifle with you while you inspect your groceries.


[WRITING NOW]

File: Things are getting spooky.gif (87 KB, 192x197)

87 KB GIF

>>3426377
>20, 20

>>3426377


You shoulder your rifle and step out into the wind. Walking to the back of the truck you set the rifle on the truck bed as you open the box you saw the old man open and dig through. Inside it, you find a massive sack of corn flour (probably what contributed the most to the weight on this one) five mason jars of preserves, another two of... moonshine? Smells like it anyway. There are also a few cans of corn, a handful of carrots and a small sack of potatoes. Everything seems on the up and up, giving you a sense of relief.


That lasts for about three seconds before you hear Chelsea shout for you to jump in truck bed quick. You do what she says on reflex, narrowly avoiding a blast from a beam rifle. With the wind whipping in your ears and your focus on inspecting the contents of the box, you completely missed the ratty vehicle rocketing towards you with several armed men on it.

Between the vehicle's level of disrepair and the poor marksmanship of your attackers, you're fairly sure these are Wastelanders rather than Royalists. The lot of them are a bunch of savage hillbilly psychos who find murdering the unsuspecting traveler a source of great entertainment. You'd honestly rather deal with Royalists; at least they do you the courtesy of killing you quickly.

"Fuck! Dammit!" You shout two more punch holes through the side of the truck, hitting nothing fortunately. One manages to find a target, though: your left calf. You curse loudly through your breather mask. And pick the rifle back up. You hear another blast and now Chels is the one cursing. You can't let them murder your ride home... or you for that matter!

And if things aren't bad enough, it looks like the wind is turning into a dust storm. On an extreme gravity planet like Freefall, storms like these are called Flayer Storms as the size of the particles combined with the speed of the wind peels human tissue right of the bone without the protection of sufficiently rated environmental gear. Gear that you are not currently wearing.

>Spray a few blasts in their direction to force them back and suppress their fire. [roll 3d20 for burst fire] [Forces Wastelander into a better position to shoot at, but they're still shooting at you]
>Aim for their driver to disable them long enough to escape. [3d20 burst fire] [Kills the driver and forces the Wastelanders to stop and switch drivers. Decent chance to escape.]
>Aim for their engine and completely disable them. [3d20 burst fire] [Permanently disable enemy vehicle and guarantee escape. Doom Wastelanders to die a slow, painful death in the Flayer Storm.]
>Aim for the fuel tank and destroy them. [3d20 burst fire] [Permanently destroys vehicle and gives Wastelanders a quicker, if not instantaneous death.]

This will be the last update of the night. I will be back tomorrow to post, so get in those votes.

>>3426426
>Aim for their driver to disable them long enough to escape. [3d20 burst fire] [Kills the driver and forces the Wastelanders to stop and switch drivers. Decent chance to escape.]
Fuck off!
Does "3d20" mean "each player rolls 1d20"?

>>3426439
Each player rolls 3d20. Each die is a round fired and the ABR you took with you has burst fire.

>>3426426
>Aim for the fuel tank and destroy them. [3d20 burst fire] [Permanently destroys vehicle and gives Wastelanders a quicker, if not instantaneous death.]

>>3426426
>>Aim for the fuel tank and destroy them. [3d20 burst fire] [Permanently destroys vehicle and gives Wastelanders a quicker, if not instantaneous death.]

>>3426426
>>Aim for the fuel tank and destroy them. [3d20 burst fire] [Permanently destroys vehicle and gives Wastelanders a quicker, if not instantaneous death.]

>>3426426
>Aim for their driver to disable them long enough to escape. [3d20 burst fire] [Kills the driver and forces the Wastelanders to stop and switch drivers. Decent chance to escape.]

>>3426490
>>3426499
>>3426524

I live again! Looks like our winning vote is to shoot to kill outright. Probably a mercy.

Roll me 3d20 each, please!

Rolled 3, 9, 6 = 18 (3d20)

>>3427239

Rolled 8, 18, 4 = 30 (3d20)

>>3427239

Rolled 20, 20, 11 = 51 (3d20)

>>3427239

>>3427252
Woof, now that's something.

Rolled 15, 17, 6 = 38 (3d20)

>>3427239

Rolled 5, 1, 3 = 9 (3d20)

>>3427239

>>3427252

You grunt as you drag your gun up into a firing position, quickly aim, and squeeze the trigger for a brief moment. A burst of three beams of light rocket out of the barrel of the gun, and burying themselves within the grill of the Wastelanders' vehicle. Through the growing dust cloud you can see little jets of fire lick out before...

BOOM!

You watch a nice little fireball shrink into the distance before it is completely obscured by the dust. In all honesty, you've probably saved them from a more protracted death at the metaphorical hands of the planet itself.

Its about that time that you start really feeling the pain of being shot. A sensation of intense, painful burning rips through your leg as you hastily fumble through your personal med kit start patching yourself up to the best of your ability. You aren't a medic, but you're glad most of you had at least a small amount of first aid training.

"We're clear, Chels." You shout back up to your driving comrade. "You alright up there?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm good. The shot just spooked me." She shouts back. She's putting up a front, though. You can tell through the strained sound in her voice. That beam probably bit into her a little. "Let's get back to the hideout and get the food inside before the wind can ruin it."

The more miles you put behind you, the quieter the wind gets. You sigh with relief knowing the storm wasn't following you back into the village.

Finally the two of you make back to the safe house. Chelsea rolls into the car port next to the house and turns the truck off, gently letting the whole vehicle rest on the grav wells.

"Ah, shit." She curses as she flops onto the ground. You've got a better look at her injury now and its clear she'd taken that blast to her side. The fact that she'd driven the two of you all the way back without passing out from bloodloss and pain is astounding. Its clear the injury has sapped her of her strength and effectively gluing her to the spot under Freefall's extreme gravity. You're gonna be fine, but her wound looks much worse and you're not entirely sure you'd be able to help her with your limited medical knowledge.

>Try to help Chels get into the safe house for aid.
>Perform first aid out here in the open then drag her into the safehouse.
>Call for Eddy, the actual medic, and hope he's back from his patrol.
>Call for anyone's assistance.

>>3427391
>>Try to help Chels get into the safe house for aid.

>>3427391
>Try to help Chels get into the safe house for aid.
No time. Either this or do it here and now.

>>3427391
>Try to help Chels get into the safe house for aid.

>>3427405
>>3427432
>>3427490

Time to drag her in and hope someone is here who can actually help.

[WRITING NOW]

"Shit... Shit!" You mutter to yourself as you crawl off the back of the truck, occasionally wincing as weight is put on your own injury. "You still with us, Chels?" You ask her as you limp to her side.

"Yeah, I guess. You're still here, so I'm either in hell or still alive, and I don't see any fire yet." Well at least she's still lucid.

"I'm getting you inside before you attract any attention. Brace yourself." You inform her before grabbing the back of her shirt and pulling. Both of you let out pained groans as you slowly drag her out of view of the street and through the door way.

"Hey a little help here!" You shout inside. You hear chairs squeak and heavy footsteps.

"Oh hell..." You hear Torossk's raspy voice behind you. The Thelosan carefully pushes you away and picks Chelsea up with one hand, forcing another painful cry out of her. Behind him is Eddy O'Quinn and Jayce Cruz.

"Sorry, but its quicker if I carry her." The big lizard offers to Chelsea.

Torossk quickly stomps through the base, stopping at the dinner table and forcing the contents off before setting Chelsea on top of it. With a little effort, Eddy shoves Torossk out of the way and gets to work.

"What the hell happened out there? I thought you were just picking up donations?!" Eddy grumbles.

"Wastelanders. They took some potshots at us on the way back. Beam punched through the truck and hit her in the side. Got me too, but Chels is the worse for wear." You explain.

"Damn it." Cheslea grits her teeth as Eddy peels her shirt away from the wound.

"Looks worse than it is." Eddy sighs with relief. "Barely bit you. You're both fuckin lucky." The medic gives you a stern finger before it swivels over to Chels.

"Yes, dad" Cheslea rolls her eyes and tries to sit up only to be pushed back down by Eddy.

"I mean it. Just a little to right and I'd be staring at a corpse." He gives a stern gaze, making Chelsea deflate a little.

"Yeah..." Is all she can manage to say.

"I'll get to you later, Marco. Just chill out there for a while." He gestures for you to take a seat on your cot. With nothing better to do, Torossk sits back down to work on his own mission.

>Do as the Eddy says. You could use a nap.
>You should probably bring in those boxes before the pests get to them.
>Grab Torossk or Jayce and have them bring those boxes in for you.
>Bug Torossk about the details of the weapons run.
>Do something else?

>>3427803
>Grab Torossk or Jayce and have them bring those boxes in for you.
We need to take a nap and someone needs to grab the boxes.

>>3427803
>>Grab Torossk or Jayce and have them bring those boxes in for you.

>>3427803
>Bug Torossk about the details of the weapons run.
Details, I want them, I need them.

>>3427803
>Grab Torossk or Jayce and have them bring those boxes in for you.
>Bug Torossk about the details of the weapons run.

>>3427817
>>3427825
>>3427832
>>3427867

I'll combine the two. A chat to kill time and setting up for another mission.


[WRITING NOW]

You hobble your way to your cot, throwing yourself down on it with a relieved grunt. With the worry of either Chelsea or you dying out of the way, you are reminded of the boxes out in the truck bed. As much as you like your neighbors and as much as they support your cause, you wouldn't put it past anyone, especially the local band of street urchins, to simply pluck the food right out of the boxes without a second thought. For a moment you think about doing it yourself, but the pulsing, burning pain in your leg gives a convincing argument against that. Looking around you see the only person not really doing anything right now is Jayce. He is simply just looking over Eddy's shoulder while he patches up Chelsea.

"Jayce!" You call out to him, grabbing his attention away from the simple operation. "Grab the supplies out of the back of the truck, would you? Lots of food and I'd hate to see it all disappear before we get bite of it."

"Oh, er..." The former royal marksman stammers through his words, "Y-yeah sure." He makes a pathetic excuse for a salute before remembering he doesn't even need to do that anymore and simply and awkwardly leaving out the door. You have to laugh thinking how this is the third most seasoned soldier in your cell.

You turn your attention back to Torossk's area and his mission as Jayce returns with the first box of food.

"So how goes planning the Great Train Robbery, Jesse James?" You tease.

"Jesse Ja- Who? Nevermind. Plannings just about done. I just need to pick the crew for the heist. I was going to have Chels pilot, but that's not an option right now. I'll need to pull from another cell for some extra hands." The lizardman makes a face and flips through a document on a tablet.

>Volunteer to fly the shuttle. You're a decent pilot, and that doesn't require you to do much walking.
>Volunteer as a gunman. You'll be in space, walking isn't necessary when you can just float.
>Volunteer to go recruiting with him. You're good judge of capability.
>Wish him luck with the raid. You'll be too busy recovering.

> Volunteer to fly the shuttle. You're a decent pilot, and that doesn't require you to do much walking.

>>3428084
>Volunteer as a gunman. You'll be in space, walking isn't necessary when you can just float.
Our skills of gunplay are better than piloting.

>>3428084
>Volunteer as a gunman. You'll be in space, walking isn't necessary when you can just float.

>>3428162
>>3428166

He'll have your gun. As long as you don't have to walk too fast.

[WRITING NOW]

"Count me in. I've always wanted to hold up a stage coach." You make more jokes.

"I thought this was a train." Torossk stares at you in confusion. "Wait, is this some obscure Human thing again? Anyway, no. You just got shot in the leg." He protests, closing down the tablet and letting sit on his lap.

"Please," You wave off his concerns. "With the modern medicine and Eddy's angelic touch-"

"Don't drag me into this!" Eddy interjects with a tone of annoyance.

"-I'll be fine. Besides, we'll be in space. I don't have to worry that much about putting weight on it. I'm a great shot and you need all the decent gunmen you can get for this."

Your argument is met with the Thelosan's stony face and silence for a moment, but you can see he's starting to crack.

"Its either that or sneak on anyway and do it. You know I will." You tack on the final nail.

"Fine." He sighs and you raise your arms in triumph. "You won't regret this, Torossk."

"We'll see when the job's done. For now you need to heal and I need to find a new pilot."

"Hey! I can still fly!" Chelsea protest, starting to lean up before Eddy pushes her back down.

"No you don't. Leaving atmosphere with a charred, bloody hole in your abdomen isn't a good idea. Were it a planetary mission, sure, but you're staying on planet till this heals enough. Two days full rest, one week on the ground." Eddy lectures. The lines on his face deepen with worry as he talks. You turn your attention back to the Thelosan as Eddy and Chelsea's conversation reverts to whining and lectures.

"So we calling in a favor to Main Port, then?" You ask your scaly friend.

"It's where we'll have to start. Not very familiar with other cells."

Tomorrow morning is check-in with Main Port, so you will have to wait until then to make your ideal crew.

>This is a good time for a nap. [Skip to tomorrow to continue with the heist plans.]
>Make some more small talk with you favorite giant lizard. [Get a sense of Torossk Ur Kaasz's views on things.]
>Bug Eddy while he works on your leg. [Get a sense of Eddy O'Quinn.]
>Chat to the brick wall that is Jayce Cruz. [Attempt to pry personal information from Jayce Cruz.]
>Trade barbs with Chels while you both heal up. [Learn something new about Chelsea Jenkins.]

>>3428331
>Trade barbs with Chels while you both heal up. [Learn something new about Chelsea Jenkins.]

>>3428331
>Trade barbs with Chels while you both heal up. [Learn something new about Chelsea Jenkins.]

>>3428331
>>Make some more small talk with you favorite giant lizard. [Get a sense of Torossk Ur Kaasz's views on things.]

>>3428455
Support

>>3428331
>>Trade barbs with Chels while you both heal up. [Learn something new about Chelsea Jenkins.]

>>3428396
>>3428411
>>3428525

Looks like we're talking to the scrappy ginger.

>Now what are we saying?
>[Write in what you'd like ask her]

File: image0.gif (656 KB, 300x300)

656 KB GIF

>>3428539
>expecting 4chan(nel) to know what to ask a cute girl
>let alone a /tg/ offshoot
Oh shit, nigger, what are you doing?

>>3428575
forcing them to reap what they sow.

>>3428575
Why I voted for Lizard Bro.

>>3428539
I guess ask why she joined and deserted.

>>3428595
This.

Also

"For the record, I thought you were an ace behind the wheel even with a hole in your stomach."

>>3428539
Apologize since our stopping enabled the raiders to get close enough fast enough to shoot us full of holes.

>>3428539
>"Gotta admit, you're made of damn iron, driving back with a hole in your side. You used to it or just born that tough?"

>>3428595
>>3428606
>>3428614
>>3428619

Glad to know some of you know how to talk to people.

[WRITING NOW]

File: 1546330073258.gif (610 KB, 400x293)

610 KB GIF

>>3428606
>"For the record, I thought you were an ace behind the wheel even with a hole in your stomach."

"Alright. You're good. Get off the table and stay on that cot til I tell you otherwise." Eddy grumbles and turns to inspect your leg as Chelsea hobbles off to her cot a couple across from yours. "Let's check the damage."

"Not bad work. Got to it before the dust got too bad, it seems. Just needs a little sterilization and you should be fine." The medic undoes the bandages on your leg and cuts away the fabric around the wound. He nods and walks back to the supply 'room' and pulls out one of the bottle of moonshine you'd gotten from John Bennett, uncaps its, takes a swing, grimaces and coughs, nods to himself and brings it back over to you.

"This should be fine." He mutters and splashes some over your leg. The pain of it is intense, forcing you to briefly howl out in pain. "Oh quit being a baby." He hands you the rest of the moonshine and starts heading back out of the main room.

"Stay off it for the rest of the day and you'll be fine. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a certain chess game that I must get back to. Come on, Jayce." The doctor beckons your marksman to follow him and he obliges. That just leaves you, Chels and Torossk, though the lizard has picked his tablet back up and seems to be completely absorbed in it. Showing off some of that Thelosan focus. He's not going to be very sociable, or even locally aware, for a while.

"Chels." You sigh and start to relax a little. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" She asks quizzically.

"For making you stop the truck. I was being paranoid after watching Bennett put the preserves in the box I was taking. If I hadn't done that, you wouldn't ha-"

"Oh no you goddamned don't!" She interrupts you, clearly annoyed. "You're not gonna start this 'I'm a liability to the team shit now. Those guys had to have been trailing us for a while and neither of us noticed them til they were shooting. Its as much on me as it is you. Besides, we got out of that mostly intact."

"Yeah... I guess." You concede the point. Its as good as accepting the apology, right?

"Plus I get a kickass battle scar to show off to my little brother next time I'm at home." She smirks at you as she shifts uncomfortably on her narrow bedding.

"You've got a brother, huh?" You attempt to dig deeper. "Any other siblings? I can't say I know all that much about you."

"I could say the same of you, Marco." She shoots back.

"I asked first, Miss Ironsides."

"Ironsides?" She puts an incredulous look on her face.

"You have to made of freakin' iron to drive all the way home with a hole in your stomach."

"That's an awful nickname. Fine... I've got 2 brothers and a sister. All younger." She relents. "Now don't call me that again. And also you have to answer the same thing: Siblings?"

>Nope. I'm an only child.
>I've got a brother
>I've got a sister
>I've got a bunch of siblings [writing in a number and whether brothers or sisters]

>>3428823
>Nope. I'm an only child.
What's it like?

>>3428823
>Nope. I'm an only child
It was pretty good

>>3428823
>I’m the middle child. Older sister, younger brother.

>>3428823
>3 older sisters

>>3428823
>Nope. I'm an only child.

>>3428842
>>3428852
>>3428905

Sibling plot lines are overrated anyway.

[WRITING NOW]

"None. Mom and Pop decided I was more than a handful already." You laugh. "So what's it like? Having siblings, I mean."

"Like have your own shadow ask you questions constantly." She laughs back, but stops herself to groan and grab at her side. "Ow. Okay no more laughing for today."

"Alright then. If you don't mind me asking, why'd you join up?"

"With the rebels or with the garrison?"

"Both, if you feel like telling." You shrug along with your answer. Chelsea takes a while to answer. You think about saying that you'll drop it, but then she finally talks.

"There were eight of us. Mom and Dad, me, my brothers and sister, and also my Nan and Uncle Korrin. Uncle was pretty young, but he was my hero. Only one of us to go to University. He was a doctor. And that was huge to me. He told me the greatest gift you can give is to make a difference in the world. That's why I joined up. I thought I'd be going around, stopping crimes and helping out during disasters. Being able to eat a full three square a day was a bonus." She sighs and smiles dreamily, but that past tense usage doesn't sit well.

"Then the protests started happening. I mean. I got what was being protested. The insane tax raises, the absurd travel laws, and all that, but I had to do my job. So I'd work riot detail and try to keep things in hand, not like that was really necessary. Then came those fucking Offworlder troops and the new orders. There's no way I could follow them. I told Uncle and he was proud of my decisions. He said," Her voice shudders as she pauses to take a breath, "'No matter what you do, Chels, I'll always be proud of you.' He was at that demonstration, Marco. Dad told me when they had him come claim the remains. So that's when I decided to join up with the movement. A government that will turn its weapons on peaceful protesters doesn't deserve to keep going." She sniffs loudly and wipes her cheek.

"So there you go. Now you know." She croaks out, clearly still trying to hold back the raw memory. "I'm gonna get some sleep." Chelsea turns over slowly and covers herself with a blanket. Its very clear she's done talking for now.

Well shit, now you feel bad.

>Distract yourself by distracting Torossk with conversation and/or by throwing paper wads at him.
>Shake it off with a nap.
>Run away from these feelings and disobey the rest orders by checking on Eddy and Chase's chess game.
>[Do something else?]

>>3428994
>Distract yourself by distracting Torossk with conversation and/or by throwing paper wads at him.
Let's try to bro it up.

>>3428994
>>[Do something else?]
Clean gun, and throw dirty paper towels at Torossk

>>3428994
>>Distract yourself by distracting Torossk with conversation and/or by throwing paper wads at him.

>>3428994
>Shake it off with a nap.

>>3429020
>>3429075

Time to poke the lizard til he does something.

[WRITING NOW]

Despite feeling like shit, you are not in the mood to sleep right now. You turn over on your side with a soft grunt and stare at Torossk still staring at his tablet.

"Hey, Torossk." You attempt to get his attention, but that Thelosan focus really has its grip on the big guy. "Torossk!" You say again with the same result. You make a face and roll back onto your back. You're not don't yet, though. You sit up and grab the rifle you used and hobble around the room to get in a position to clean it. Eddy may have said to rest, but maybe you find stripping down a beam rifle and cleaning it completely relaxing. He wasn't in your squad back in the garrison so what does he know?

You start picking the gun apart with the aid of the stripping tool and the required lubricants and cleaning agents. Every time you use up one of the paper towels, you simply wad it up and toss it at the big blue-green lizard's head. The first one fall short and the second one overshoots the target, but slowly you're zeroing in on his noggin. Third one falls short again, but is a little closer. Shot four finally finds its target! With a soft 'Paff!' sound, the paper wad bounces in between the horns protruding from his head and falls down in front of his face.

You hear a soft sigh come from between the Thelosan's lips.

"Field goal. Three points to Riv." He mutters and shuts down his tablet. "Alright you've got my attention. Whatcha need?"


>"I've been meaning to ask you why you joined up with the garrison. Most Thelosans weren't fans of the Crown even before the protests."
>"Wondering how you're doing. Holding up fine?"
>"Nothing really. Its just fun to torment you."
>"I was wondering if you'd mind answering something." [Torossk is pretty knowledgeable. Ask any question about him, his people, or even just the current conflict.]

>>3429211
>>"I've been meaning to ask you why you joined up with the garrison. Most Thelosans weren't fans of the Crown even before the protests."
>>"Wondering how you're doing. Holding up fine?"

>>3429211
>>"I've been meaning to ask you why you joined up with the garrison. Most Thelosans weren't fans of the Crown even before the protests."

>>3429290
Supporting

>>3429290
>>3429292
>>3429329

Dual questions.


[WRITING NOW]

"I've been meaning to ask you something, if you don't mind answering." You start. "Why'd you join the planetary garrison? I thought most Thelosans still hated the Crown. You kinda got a shit deal from them and all."

"Well that's one way to word it, I suppose." Torossk laughs. "Honestly, its nothing really I thought about. I didn't grow up in any of the Conclaves the Thelosan Clans like to hide in. Grew up in a village kind of like the one we're hiding. It was a lot bigger. I guess it was more of a town, then. Well, the place was kind of a cesspool with a big crime problem. I joined up to get out and give those little shits a taste of proper order." The lizard man throws a few deft jabs through the air to accentuate his point.

"Did that for a good fifty years and then the Crown had to be the fucking Crown and shit on my scaly ass's good time." Torossk scowls and crosses his arms. "That wasn't order. That was just... fucked up. I didn't sign up to murder civvies. Well I guess this just proves criminal shits exist on all levels of society. Maybe someday I can kick that shit Prince's teeth in for this. Haha, I'll just say he was resisting arrest!" He laughs even louder at the thought and you laugh along. It is a very satisfying mental image.

"Well I was gonna ask how you were holding up, but it sounds like you're in pretty good spirits." You turn your eyes back to your disassembled gun and start putting the pieces back together.

"Ha, well I'm glad you're satisfied, but I didn't you'd been appointed morale officer."

"Well maybe if you didn't sleep through every other briefing, you'd catch up with the elections." You jab back.

"Maybe. But you're doing a shit job. Perfectly honest, I'm getting antsy. We've been in this holding pattern for months now. If Main Port keeps sitting on their hands the things are gonna fall off. Why do you think I'm planning to hijack a gun shipment? We need to shift gears and take the fight back to the garrison!" Torossk growls with discontent.

>Agree with him. Its high time we turn the tables on these offworlders.
>Disagree. We need to gather more support if we want to survive that kind of assault. Supply, intel, warm bodies!
>Keep it moderate. Agree, but we can't just go in guns blazing. We need a real plan and coordinate the attack.

>>3429370
>Keep it moderate. Agree, but we can't just go in guns blazing. We need a real plan and coordinate the attack.
Going in guns-blazing is an easy way to get killed.

>>3429370
>Keep it moderate. Agree, but we can't just go in guns blazing. We need a real plan and coordinate the attack.

>>3429370
>>Keep it moderate. Agree, but we can't just go in guns blazing. We need a real plan and coordinate the attack.

>>3429374
>>3429384
>>3429400

I have awoken from my slumber!

Trying to keep things moderate with Torossk.


[WRITING NOW]

"I feel you, Torossk, but we need to cool our heels just a little longer. We can't just fling ourselves into the fire with guns blazing. I'm personally hoping to make it all the way through this with my life." You lift your fully reassembled weapon up and look down the sights.

"Bah." The big lizard facetiously waves you off with a hand. "What's life if you can't gamble it away on a stupid plan and a handfull of guns?"

He sighs again and leans back.

"But you're right. Going in half-cocked is just getting myself killed. But staying cooped up here is driving me stir crazy!" He leans back further, his body hitting the floor with a soft 'THUD!' and an accompanying dust cloud.

"I get it, man. I do."

"Says the guy who got in the first firefight we've had in six months."

"Really wasn't thinking about that while I was getting shot in the leg by a bunch of psycho hicks. But hey, I guess my injuries were crazy lucky." Sarcasm drips from your voice.

"You know what I mean!" He protests causing you to laugh. He sits back up on the floor, sliding the overturned chair off to the side with his tail. "Any way, that's why I've been planning the gun shipment hijack. More means to do what I want when the time comes... whenever that is." He grumbles again.

"Well, I'll be with you when you're ready. We'll show those Royalists we mean business." You offer up as you hobble over to the gun rack to replace the ABR.

>"I'm feeling a bit tired now. I think I'm going to sleep." [Skip until the checkin with Main Port.]
>"Just one more thing, Torossk." [Ask your scaled friend another question?]
>[Do or say something else?]

>>3430076
>"I'm feeling a bit tired now. I think I'm going to sleep." [Skip until the checkin with Main Port.]

>>3430076
>>"I'm feeling a bit tired now. I think I'm going to sleep." [Skip until the checkin with Main Port.]

>>3430076
>"I'm feeling a bit tired now. I think I'm going to sleep." [Skip until the checkin with Main Port.]

>>3430091
>>3430113
>>3430335

Enough with the small talk! Time to move on with the plot!

[WRITING NOW]

With the cleaning out of the way and with the heart to heart you've had with your favorite giant lizard, you starting to actually come down of the adrenaline high and crash. You yawn loudly and stretch your arms out wide.

"Seems like I'm at the end of my charge for the day." You joke. "I'm gonna listen to Eddy for once and actually try to rest. Let me know when we're gonna contact Main Port. I want to hear their excuses when you ask them for a pilot."

Today must have taken more out of you than you originally thought. As soon as your head hits the cot, you're out like a light. Your sleep is fitful and full of strange dreams. At least you believe they were strange. When you wake up the next day you can't fully remember what you were dreaming about. You remember it was one of those weird floating dreams, but with the anticipation for the arms heist, you're pretty sure it was just a reflection of that.

You yawn, stretch and force yourself out of your nice, comfy cot to get dressed and take part in some of Eddy's skillful breakfast cooking. You're not sure where he learned it, but the son of bitch makes the best grits this side of Main Port. With the side biscuits and some bacon from a native animal referred to as a Freefall Hog, its the best damn breakfast any of you have had in six months. Next time you see John Bennett, you really need to thank him again for the supplies.

Torossk's plate is the first back at the pot for seconds, but that's pretty natural. You can imagine the eight-foot-tall lizard man takes quite a bit of fuel to get moving at full steam. Eddy is telling of one is infamous 'when I was a recruit' stories full of jokes and stupid decisions, bring everyone to laughs. Chels is interjecting with her trademark sarcasm. Jayce is sitting awkwardly between the two, smiling and supposedly just enjoying being involved. Its moments like these that make you feel like you're back in the garrison before everything went to shit.

After breakfast, Torossk runs everyone, save Chelsea and you, through morning exercises and drills. Despite how long you've all been on the lam, morning runs being replaced with jogging in place for 15 minutes just doesn't feel the same. After that, Eddy starts the day's briefing and explaining what going to be happening for the day. Chelsea is reminded to remain bedridden for the day. Jayce is assigned to run logistics while Chelsea is laid up. Eddy informs everyone he'll be doing patrol alone for the day while you and Torossk are working setting things up for the arms shipment job.

With everything out on the table, the meeting is concluded and everyone goes about their duties or lack of them. While she might be in bed, Chelsea yaps incessantly at Jayce on how to do her job. The poor marksman just nods and writes down whatever he feels is important. After Jayce leaves to go pick up the scheduled donations for the day, Chelsea sulks, but eventually goes back to sleep.

>>3430461
With Eddy leaving out the back, that only leaves you and your favorite Thelosan left to contact Main Port.

>Let Torossk use the radio to contact Main Port. The mission is his baby, after all.
>Use the radio to contact Main Port. They're more familiar with your voice.
>Wake Chels up and have her contact Main Port. Being stuck in bed all day has to be a special kind of torture for her.

>>3430469
>Use the radio to contact Main Port. They're more familiar with your voice.

>>3430469
>>Use the radio to contact Main Port. They're more familiar with your voice.

>>3430469
>>Use the radio to contact Main Port. They're more familiar with your voice.

>>3430553
>>3430693
>>3430749

Marco has a face made for radio. And a silky voice doesn't hurt either!


[WRITING NOW]

You walk over to where the radio sits in the hideout, dragging a chair with you. Straddling it backwards so you can rest your arms on the back, you pick up the receiver and depress the talk button.

"Main Port. Main Port. This is Dust Bowl. Checking as scheduled and with updates. Over." You speak clearly in to the radio before taking your finger off the button.

"Dust Bowl, this is Main Port. Good to hear from you again. Proceed with updates. Over." An older voice crackles through the dust-choked speakers.

"We have need of a pilot for an upcoming operation. Space Certified required. Combat Certification preferred. Over."

There's a crackle and silence for a moment. You and Torossk share a moment of concern about what will come out of the speaker next.

"We might have someone for you in HQ, but they're not going to move until they know what the mission is. Request a trip to Main to pick up your pilot, we'll have someone waiting at the Usual Spot. Good Luck. Out." The voice calmly explains.

You set the receiver back on top of the radio. Turning to your Thelosan friend, you raise an eyebrow and smirk.

"Hey, its something." Torossk shrugs and turns back to the kitchen table. "We'll have to wait until Jayce gets back from the milk run, but that should work for us."

There isn't too much time to wait as just an hour later, the Jayce makes his return with a few meager food supplies, but more importantly, a full tank in the truck.

You and Torossk explain what's going to be happening with the pilot to the rest of your crew. They're a little annoyed that Main Port doesn't just throw their weight around and make this pilot do their job, but are fine with the two of you heading into Main to get them.

"If you're heading that way, I think I'll tag along." Eddy grunts standing up from his seat. "I have a few things I need to do up there at HQ."

"Fine, fine. I'll hold down the fort with Chatterbox." Chelsea sighs, lazily gesturing over to Jayce, who is looking around, confused, with a mouth full of sandwich.

The three of you pile into the truck. You take the passenger seat, Eddy is driving, and Torossk is sitting in the truck bed comfortably with the back cab window open so he can participate in conversation on the way.

The road to Main is considered somewhat safer than most of the outer country roads, but even then, safety isn't guaranteed on what is still considered a frontier colony world.


>What weapons do you bring with you into Main Port.

>Beam Pistol
>Combat Knife
>Assault Beam Rifle
>Marksman’s Beam Rifle
>Heavy Repeating Beam Rifle
>Light Repeating Beam Rifle

>Keep each down to 3 weapons or less each.

>>3430981
>Combat Knife
>Assault Beam Rifle
>Beam Pistol

>>3430981
Aren't there going to be checkpoints? I say no weapons at all, we're only on a pickup run.

>>3431043
Better to be over-prepared than under-prepared. Something might happen during the run.

>>3431043
And then I remember we're wanted criminals, and won't be going in the city anyways.
>Beam Pistol
>Combat Knife
>Assault Beam Rifle

>>3430981
>>Beam Pistol
>>Combat Knife
>>Assault Beam Rifle

We'll be ending here for the week. I'll see you all again next Thurday for Part 2 of the Prologue.