I suppose it doesn't actually matter too much. I mean, Absalom Station is just an easy destination and isn't far out of anyone's way. I don't have a real reason to go there other than it's a decent choice when looking for work.
It's more worrying that they're lying to me.
Of course, I have ranks in Computers, and the ship's main computer is minimal… so I can probably find out where we're headed readily enough: I just need a little time when they think I'm asleep. Which also isn't hard. I have Bluff, and these two aren't that bright. Also, “not needing sleep” isn't a common trait.
So a few hours later, I turn in when Carl does, with Bob at the helm… and after I'm sure Carl is fast asleep, I quietly hack their systems.
Turns out the password is “password”. Folks really don't care here. A few moments later I jailbreak the fake shell, and I'm in, looking at the logs. So… Carl's the captain, and also handles the piloting; the engineer was David, and did double duty as the magic officer; Bob's the gunner, and apparently also the science officer if it comes up. Huh. Good to know. Well… I can fill David's shoes… but that's not why I'm logged in.
OK, so… lovely. The Azlanti Star Empire. Human supremacists. And we're going to the third planet in the Croban system. Well… at least I can blend in OK even without makeup or magic, but… ugh. Supremacists. They were bad enough back home, these ones have their own empire. So…
So what do I do? I mean, I have clothes, I know where we are… I could just leave. Take as many UPB's as I can carry, step out an airlock… that's… sounding attractive. Of course, then I'd be alone again, except for Patricia, of course. Ugh. Still… probably better than supporting xenophobes.
Or… they were betrayed by their commander… I have Diplomacy… maybe I could convince them to desert? Change the registration on the ship, fly to a nice area, split the cash… I could maybe sell that…
I delete my electronic trail, log off, and go back to pretending to sleep. In a cot, in a joint room. Ugh - regardless of what I decide, I really need better accommodations: This ship doesn't even have a mirror.
Eventually, I settle on a hybrid plan: I'll talk it over with Bob and Carl, see if I can convince them to defect to the Pact Worlds. If I can: Great. If not… well, they can space me. As long as they don't waste ammo trying to kill me, I'll be fine. Also, I really don’t want to rush into those consequences.
Also, pretending to sleep is very dull.
When Bob finally wakes Carl up for his shift at the helm, I speak to them as though I'm just waking up and hearing them, “You guys are bad at keeping secrets, you know. I've caught on that we're not heading to Absalom Station right now.”
Carl pauses, “What gave it away?”
I tell them the truth, and focus on being Diplomatic, “I've been in every system on the ship fixing things… among the MANY things I've accessed getting this junk heap flying is the ship's computer, ancient as it is, where all the official logs are stored. Given that your prior commander offered you up for a sacrifice, do you really want to risk showing up? Your commanders can't let you live to tell what they did, you realize. I would not expect a friendly reception at Croban three; more likely a fabricated report that you're traitors to the empire… but if you head to the Pact Worlds and actually defect… well, that's a lot of UPB's in the hold, isn't it?” I raise my eyebrows twice as I hear dice in my head.
Patricia whispers in my ear as Bob and Carl look at each other, “You flubbed the roll….”
I hear more dice as I fake struggling while they drag me to the nearest airlock. I mean, I couldn't actually get away from them anyway, but I'm not particularly frightened by hard vacuum, having navigated it OK for a while. It wouldn't do for them to realize I'll be fine; they might just decide to shoot me, and that'd be awkward when I woke up still on the ship with a larger chest.
Patricia sounds sorry, “The dice just don't like you today….”
Bob jumps back and draws a sidearm: “He wants us to space him! Shoot him!”
I hear a lot of dice on my head as Carl also lets go at that and draws… which gives me a minute to run for the airlock… but Carl shoots me before I can get to the door and close it; I feel it rip through my shoulder…
“Eleven damage; that was a critical hit, but fortunately these are just sidearms. We can tank several of these.” Thank you, Patricia, for letting me know I'm not dead.
And after I hit the switch, I'm looking at them from the other side of some VERY thick glass. As I reach for the manual override on the outer door, Bob pulls Carl back from the controls on his side… bright boy, they're NOT vacuum safe, and the manual overrides are for when the sensors are faulty. While I certainly can't say I won this one… as I hear the machinery whirring to life and what little air is in the lock escaping into the Drift outside… I can at least console myself with the fact that I'm not marching to my death… again.
And this time, I'm even wearing something!
Of course, now that there's no air in here, they can't follow until they fetch and secure their helmets… so I have a bit… and starship weapons can't even target something my size. So I shake my head sadly at them, step out into the drift, and engage my biological drive. No, I have NO idea how it works… but it does. Soon enough, I've left them behind. I wonder if they'll live?
I start to reach for my shoulder to cast Lesser Vigor to heal myself… and remember I haven't Shaped a solution for casting in a vacuum yet. So I'm going to need to heal the long way unless I can find an atmosphere. Annoying - I'm a full caster, and have yet to cast anything above a cantrip.
But at least I'm not lost. I had access to the ship's logs, knew where we were going and how far along we were, so I just need to re-chart a route. Which I can do - Absalom Station is easy to reach; I can kind of feel the beacon… I take my time and plot my course, then I'm on my way.
Along the way, I run into a bubble from the Elemental Plane of Air. It's good for me - air lets me finally heal up the bullet wound in my shoulder. When I do, I find that my bust grows slightly more than it did for a casting of Read Magic… and shrinks back down again when the spell ends. Interesting… it's tied to the level of the spell? Huh. I suppose that makes sense… there's more power there, so more of Patricia's ‘essence’.
I don't complain nearly as much about my boredom to Patricia this trip. The calm, boring travel is a nice break from getting shot, killed, and shot again… but after ten days of drift travel, when I finally arrive at my jump point, I find myself contemplating the benefits of bullet wounds.
But I didn't complain as much this time.
I focus, and I'm back in real space, looking at my chosen destination: Absalom Station…. through a virtual cloud of mismatched space ships, but still. There's a big, park-like dome in the center, a long spike extending “down” from that, and a whole mess of spikes extending outwards in a plane from the park… on which many, many starships dock. Just the scale of this place is amazing; the ship I was in however many days ago (I still don't have a watch)? That would be a dot on the station from this distance.
As I look at the place, I carefully consider:
How am I going to get inside? What story will I give? I am going to need at least some money… so I'll need a job, but I have no references… at least with a trade hub like this, I… probably won't need ID.
I am an engineer, and competent enough at it. I can also do computers, Life Science, Mysticism, Physical Science… my lowest modifier in any of those is a +7, which is at least as good as your average Joe out of college. My better skills go as high as +11… and I have the basic social skills covered too with Bluff, Diplomacy, Sense Motive, and Culture ranging from +7 to +13… and lots of room to grow. I'm not great on the physical side of things, but I can soak a hit well enough.
So I'm probably employable… I just need to actually get on the station. Nobody really expects a guy without a suit to show up outside of an airlock and politely knock, so I don't really expect to find any doorbells....
I suppose it doesn't actually matter too much. I mean, Absalom Station is just an easy destination and isn't far out of anyone's way. I don't have a real reason to go there other than it's a decent choice when looking for work.
It's more worrying that they're lying to me.
Of course, I have ranks in Computers, and the ship's main computer is minimal… so I can probably find out where we're headed readily enough: I just need a little time when they think I'm asleep. Which also isn't hard. I have Bluff, and these two aren't that bright. Also, “not needing sleep” isn't a common trait.
So a few hours later, I turn in when Carl does, with Bob at the helm… and after I'm sure Carl is fast asleep, I quietly hack their systems.
Turns out the password is “password”. Folks really don't care here. A few moments later I jailbreak the fake shell, and I'm in, looking at the logs. So… Carl's the captain, and also handles the piloting; the engineer was David, and did double duty as the magic officer; Bob's the gunner, and apparently also the science officer if it comes up. Huh. Good to know. Well… I can fill David's shoes… but that's not why I'm logged in.
OK, so… lovely. The Azlanti Star Empire. Human supremacists. And we're going to the third planet in the Croban system. Well… at least I can blend in OK even without makeup or magic, but… ugh. Supremacists. They were bad enough back home, these ones have their own empire. So…
So what do I do? I mean, I have clothes, I know where we are… I could just leave. Take as many UPB's as I can carry, step out an airlock… that's… sounding attractive. Of course, then I'd be alone again, except for Patricia, of course. Ugh. Still… probably better than supporting xenophobes.
Or… they were betrayed by their commander… I have Diplomacy… maybe I could convince them to desert? Change the registration on the ship, fly to a nice area, split the cash… I could maybe sell that…
I delete my electronic trail, log off, and go back to pretending to sleep. In a cot, in a joint room. Ugh - regardless of what I decide, I really need better accommodations: This ship doesn't even have a mirror.
Eventually, I settle on a hybrid plan: I'll talk it over with Bob and Carl, see if I can convince them to defect to the Pact Worlds. If I can: Great. If not… well, they can space me. As long as they don't waste ammo trying to kill me, I'll be fine. Also, I really don’t want to rush into those consequences.
Also, pretending to sleep is very dull.
When Bob finally wakes Carl up for his shift at the helm, I speak to them as though I'm just waking up and hearing them, “You guys are bad at keeping secrets, you know. I've caught on that we're not heading to Absalom Station right now.”
Carl pauses, “What gave it away?”
I tell them the truth, and focus on being Diplomatic, “I've been in every system on the ship fixing things… among the MANY things I've accessed getting this junk heap flying is the ship's computer, ancient as it is, where all the official logs are stored. Given that your prior commander offered you up for a sacrifice, do you really want to risk showing up? Your commanders can't let you live to tell what they did, you realize. I would not expect a friendly reception at Croban three; more likely a fabricated report that you're traitors to the empire… but if you head to the Pact Worlds and actually defect… well, that's a lot of UPB's in the hold, isn't it?” I raise my eyebrows twice as I hear dice in my head.
Patricia whispers in my ear as Bob and Carl look at each other, “You flubbed the roll….”
I hear more dice as I fake struggling while they drag me to the nearest airlock. I mean, I couldn't actually get away from them anyway, but I'm not particularly frightened by hard vacuum, having navigated it OK for a while. It wouldn't do for them to realize I'll be fine; they might just decide to shoot me, and that'd be awkward when I woke up still on the ship with a larger chest.
Patricia sounds sorry, “The dice just don't like you today….”
Bob jumps back and draws a sidearm: “He wants us to space him! Shoot him!”
I hear a lot of dice on my head as Carl also lets go at that and draws… which gives me a minute to run for the airlock… but Carl shoots me before I can get to the door and close it; I feel it rip through my shoulder…
“Eleven damage; that was a critical hit, but fortunately these are just sidearms. We can tank several of these.” Thank you, Patricia, for letting me know I'm not dead.
And after I hit the switch, I'm looking at them from the other side of some VERY thick glass. As I reach for the manual override on the outer door, Bob pulls Carl back from the controls on his side… bright boy, they're NOT vacuum safe, and the manual overrides are for when the sensors are faulty. While I certainly can't say I won this one… as I hear the machinery whirring to life and what little air is in the lock escaping into the Drift outside… I can at least console myself with the fact that I'm not marching to my death… again.
And this time, I'm even wearing something!
Of course, now that there's no air in here, they can't follow until they fetch and secure their helmets… so I have a bit… and starship weapons can't even target something my size. So I shake my head sadly at them, step out into the drift, and engage my biological drive. No, I have NO idea how it works… but it does. Soon enough, I've left them behind. I wonder if they'll live?
I start to reach for my shoulder to cast Lesser Vigor to heal myself… and remember I haven't Shaped a solution for casting in a vacuum yet. So I'm going to need to heal the long way unless I can find an atmosphere. Annoying - I'm a full caster, and have yet to cast anything above a cantrip.
But at least I'm not lost. I had access to the ship's logs, knew where we were going and how far along we were, so I just need to re-chart a route. Which I can do - Absalom Station is easy to reach; I can kind of feel the beacon… I take my time and plot my course, then I'm on my way.
Along the way, I run into a bubble from the Elemental Plane of Air. It's good for me - air lets me finally heal up the bullet wound in my shoulder. When I do, I find that my bust grows slightly more than it did for a casting of Read Magic… and shrinks back down again when the spell ends. Interesting… it's tied to the level of the spell? Huh. I suppose that makes sense… there's more power there, so more of Patricia's ‘essence’.
I don't complain nearly as much about my boredom to Patricia this trip. The calm, boring travel is a nice break from getting shot, killed, and shot again… but after ten days of drift travel, when I finally arrive at my jump point, I find myself contemplating the benefits of bullet wounds.
But I didn't complain as much this time.
I focus, and I'm back in real space, looking at my chosen destination: Absalom Station…. through a virtual cloud of mismatched space ships, but still. There's a big, park-like dome in the center, a long spike extending “down” from that, and a whole mess of spikes extending outwards in a plane from the park… on which many, many starships dock. Just the scale of this place is amazing; the ship I was in however many days ago (I still don't have a watch)? That would be a dot on the station from this distance.
As I look at the place, I carefully consider:
How am I going to get inside? What story will I give? I am going to need at least some money… so I'll need a job, but I have no references… at least with a trade hub like this, I… probably won't need ID.
I am an engineer, and competent enough at it. I can also do computers, Life Science, Mysticism, Physical Science… my lowest modifier in any of those is a +7, which is at least as good as your average Joe out of college. My better skills go as high as +11… and I have the basic social skills covered too with Bluff, Diplomacy, Sense Motive, and Culture ranging from +7 to +13… and lots of room to grow. I'm not great on the physical side of things, but I can soak a hit well enough.
So I'm probably employable… I just need to actually get on the station. Nobody really expects a guy without a suit to show up outside of an airlock and politely knock, so I don't really expect to find any doorbells....
