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>>48434491
“Can't help but feel it must be fate that brought you here. Grab whatever you want from behind the bar and pull up a chair.”

“You're running a gin bar on Cuithe!?” you demand, smacking the side of your head. “We looked for you exhaustively for a year before we gave you up for dead, and you're in a gin joint at a pirate... God's sake, why are we even pretending to be surprised?”

“That's your business, Captain,” Cima replies as you pour yourself a tall glass of Foxdenton's gin and cut it with some ginger ale. “As for why you're here, I think I can help.”

“You don't even know why we're here,” you observe. For her part the former Zeon pirate turned politician glances about the bar to ensure that nobody else is present... must be a slow day.

“I don't care,” she tells you in a low voice. “But I can tell you everything there is to know about pirate operations in this system if you promise to do me one thing.”

“And what's the price, then?” you ask, leaning in and adopting the same hushed tone.

“I need you to get me off this damn rock before I lose my mind!" she hisses.

You stifle a chuckle. "Retirement not all it's cracked up to be?"

"You have no idea."

“Then maybe you shouldn't have run off when we needed you,” you shoot back in a low tone. “Do you have any idea how helpful you were just by being a contact in the Republic?”

Cima shakes her head in clear frustration. “There was a demographic swing in our representative government, just before I left. What came to be labeled the 'old guard' were pushed out, either by popular vote or party politics... lots of the former military officers in government posts were sacked or resigned, replaced by young idealists with bigger words than resumes.”

“And guess who was first on their hit list?”
>2/4

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>>48434520
“The notorious space pirate and accused war criminal Cima Garahau didn't even get a trial in the court of public opinion,” she continues, not waiting for your answer. She does however take a pause to swill her gin. “They knew my service record, they knew that I'd been used as Zeon's patsy then abandoned by my superiors. They knew that I'd fought Principality loyalists in space and militarists and isolationists in the government. None of that mattered.”

“So... I came here. The democratic leaders of the Republic of Zeon branded me for life, and so I came where I'd feel more welcome. I opened a bar... seemed the only thing to do, really.”

“And you hate it here,” you summarize.

“Passionately,” she agrees. “None of the things that used to matter even exist out here. Principality loyalists, EFSF veterans, civilian criminals... they're not fighting for anyone or anything but themselves. You know what the number one cause of death for a pirate on Cuithe is?”

“Murder?” you guess. Cima shakes her head.

“Sabotage. More people die out here when rival crews sabotage their ships than from any other cause.”

“Sounds like a lovely vacation spot,” you tell her, finishing your own gin and ginger ale. “We can see why you'd want to get the fuck out.”

“You haven't even seen the way they behave in here,” she adds, gesturing around the room. “I've had to ban firearms, football colors, uniforms and insignia, flirting, music players... hell, they even used to get into fights over each others' music!”

“So what do you play now?”

“Jazz,” Cima replies, switching on the sound system with a remote she produces from her pocket. The baritone voice of Nat King Cole greets your ears. “First guy got belligerent with me over it caught a bullet in the head for his trouble. Stopped getting complaints that day.”

“You shot him?”

“Didn't have to,” Cima tells you. “These louts know who gets them their booze.”
>3/4

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>>48434538
“So you want to leave with us?” you ask, seeking to confirm Cima's intentions to leave Cuithe.

She nods firmly. “Yes. I'd been planning to stow away on one of the transports that come through here and drop off contraband like what we've been toasting with, but you being here gives me an alternative.”

“What will you do once we get you out of here?” you press.

“Don't know, don't care,” she admits. “I'll come up with some way to survive. I always do.”

“Do you still have that mobile suit of yours?” you ask her, already suspecting her response. “We could use a little help getting clear of Cuithe, in the event someone decides to treat this as a defection.”

“What do you think?” Cima replies grimly. “When I was chased out of the Republic I lost everything. The Gerbera Tetra's probably gathering dust in a warehouse somewhere, unless it's been stripped down for parts.”

>Does Cuithe maintain its own mobile suit force? Could you possibly steal something useful?
>Do you have any sympathizers among the pirate crews? Any contacts we could make use of?
>We want to see this asteroid's dockyards and manufacturing plant first. We have a hunch.
>What was that about ships bringing in contraband? Can you check for a few specific names?
>Other?

>>48434571
>>We want to see this asteroid's dockyards and manufacturing plant first. We have a hunch.

>>48434571
>What was that about ships bringing in contraband? Can you check for a few specific names?
And whether it was a legit Anaheim cargo, or if it was done under their noses.

>>Other?
Ask if she knows anything about that ship that buzzed us, guns blazing. If there's no leads...

>We want to see this asteroid's dockyards and manufacturing plant first. We have a hunch.

>>48434571
>Do you have any sympathizers among the pirate crews? Any contacts we could make use of?
>We want to see this asteroid's dockyards and manufacturing plant first. We have a hunch.
>Other
"We had to leave a crewmember in space. He's still got air and consumables for 3 days, but we'd rather get him back if we can. Know anyone who can go out there and look for him?"

A pirate scavenger scavenging in the ruins of an ambush, won't raise any eyebrows.
And they can even keep the fuel and cargo they find to sweeten the deal.

>music players... hell, they even used to get into fights over each others' music!”
Were those involved amputees during the OYW, by any chance?

Also this. >>48434693
>"We had to leave a crewmember in space. He's still got air and consumables for 3 days, but we'd rather get him back if we can. Know anyone who can go out there and look for him?"
Can't believe I forgot about the crewmember left behind.

>>48434749
>Were those involved amputees during the OYW, by any chance?
Glad someone caught that nod.

I'll give it another five minutes or so then get to work writing up.

>>48434693
Siding with this.

>>48434571
>What was that about ships bringing in contraband? Can you check for a few specific names?
It's good to see Cima again. The lady's had a hard life, I'm glad to have the chance to help her out.

>>48434800
Might as well take a long shot due to the coincidence here. Ask if she heard of any talk on Amuro or Char.

>writing

>>48434800
Wait, so is Thunderbolt canon to Shadows of Zeon Quest, then? Because if so, the OYW was a lot weirder in this timeline than I thought it was.

>>48434953
It was more of a joke than anything else, don't worry too much about keeping shit straight. Even if it were canon to this continuity you'd probably never see any evidence of it.

>>48434986
Oh, good. Because that shit gets bananas.

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>>48434891
“We don't suppose you're hiding them under the bar, since we'd be able to feel them there,” you muse, setting aside your glass. “But have you heard any rumors of Amuro or Casval?”

“Not word one,” Cima replies solemnly. “If Amuro had any sense he took that mechanic girl of his and disappeared with her, out into the frontier. And if you ask me Char's too tired to even try anymore. He's probably in some place like this one, in some backwater town where he doesn't have to wear a mask for people not to recognize him.”

That sounds about right actually, given what little you know of the two. But it never hurts to ask.

“You mentioned shipments of contraband,” you continue. “We ran across three hulks out there: Antioch, Scipio, and Ramilles. We'd like you to check whatever records you keep for them.”

“I don't have to,” Cima explains. “Scipio's skipper and I have done business before, he was hauling a case each of gin and single malts for me when he disappeared.”

“So the rifles we found...”

“Were also meant for Cuithe, yes,” Cima confirms. “As were the bananas, actually. I quite missed those.”

“You've had a hard life,” you nod gently.

“I get by.”

“We have two things we need first,” you insist quietly, taking on a more business-like approach. “One of our crew went missing in the debris field when we came under attack.”

“No IFFs?” Cima asks.

“You got it. We evaded them and they overshot us, but we'd hate to try our chances again to save one life. If you have any contacts here who'd do you a favor though...”

“I'll place a call or two,” Cima assures you. “There are one or two captains out here with some semblance of decency, even if recovering the cargo will be the priority.”

“He has three days of air and consumables in his junior MS,” you inform the former pirate queen. “We can give you the location if you can find us a terminal?”
>1/?

>>48435177
Cima waves you to a computer behind the bar, swiping an access card and typing in her password. “The network here is fairly sophisticated considering it was cobbled together from scrap. Type in the coordinates and I'll send them along to the skipper of the Libertatia.”

You do as she requested, and as promised she transfers the information along with a personal message explaining your request. And that's really all you can do for the poor man, assuming he's even still alive and hasn't been killed in a debris collision as you suspect. The junior MS itself had no sensitive data aboard its computers as a matter of course, and a mechanic won't be able to tell them anything if the pirates decide not to let him go free. But given the situation... you really can't afford to go back and risk your ship and crew on the off chance a missing crewman might still be alive.

“Now then, the second order of business,” you tell Cima with a sigh. “We need to see this asteroid's industrial capabilities, check to see if they may have been involved in an ongoing case.”

“What sort of case?” Cima asks.

“A derelict ship with an advanced reflective coating,” you explain, “designed purely for stealth using technology stolen from the Martian Royal Dockyards.”

Cima lets out a low whistle. “Tech like that in private hands... could be used for anything.”

“That's what we're afraid of.”

>We just need to get in and steal some data. We could do it without alerting anyone.
>If you helped, could you get us a “tour”? We want to see this first hand.
>We can't leave this place operational. Care to help us leave a going-away present?
>Other?

>>48435266
>We just need to get in and steal some data. We could do it without alerting anyone.
Keep it low-key for now. Try to spoof it as other databases being targeted if we can.

I'm pretty sure a few pirates here have a habit of taking a peek on whatever info everyone else has, so it wouldn't look too suspicious.

>>48435266
>We just need to get in and steal some data. We could do it without alerting anyone.

>5 more minutes for stragglers, then update

>>48435266
>>We just need to get in and steal some data. We could do it without alerting anyone.
Whoops, was distracted!

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What's she up to, KM?

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“Simple data theft is our goal,” you try to assure Cima. “This is a pirate colony after all, it's far from the worst thing anyone has ever tried, we're sure.”

“That's not going to be easy,” Cima tells you, gesturing at your armored pressure suit. “You may end up having to shoot your way in or out.”

“That's why we have you,” you tell her. “You know any ways in or out that could get the job done more easily?”

The woman sighs wearily, and bites gently into her lower lip before composing her reply. “It's possible, but we'd need to go EVA. There's a maintenance access point on the exterior of the station, left over from when they were pulling sections of old warships together to make them habitable. It's right near what passes for the fabrication plant.”

“Then we'll head back to the ship under pretense of getting caught up, and use our dorsal emergency airlock.”

“That just might work,” Cima admits. “Alright, what the hell. Let's do it.”

“You hear that, Rosse?” you ask for your partner's benefit. “We're coming in, get things prepped for a quick departure.”
>1/2

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>>48435735
Even you aren't truly used to being in space, without the benefit of a mobile suit's cockpit to help you familiarize yourself. As you step out onto the Sericea's dorsal hull you feel practically naked, despite the heavy protection afforded by your state-of-the-art pilot suit. But that's not enough to distract you from the immense, terrifying emptiness that surrounds you out here.

Remember your training, Carrina. The hull is always “down”...

Even Cima looks uncomfortable as she stands next to you in her red pressure suit. “I officially hate this.”

You're joined by a trio of Marines, each carrying a rifle rigged with a brass catcher: the rifles are forward-ejecting bullpups that will spit brass out into the bag affixed to the side of the weapon, guaranteeing that you won't be adding to the space trash crisis if you're forced to open fire out here. You see the lead Marine NCO flash you a thumbs-up gesture, and with that cue you start off along the top side of the Sericea.

After waving to Rossweisse through the minimal cockpit viewports you move forward to the Sericea's prow, past its bow retro-thrusters, and kick off across to the hull of the station.

“This way,” Cima informs you with outstretched fingertips pointing the way. “About 1200 meters. Should be marked.”

Don't look up. Focus on the hull. Breathe regularly, like you're walking in a park back home.

After what feels like hours you find your goal: a locked access port on the hull of Cuithe's habitat. The Marines take up a tight defensive perimeter, covering you and Cima from all angles despite having no indication that anyone else is out here or that your part's been seen.

“Locked,” Cima nods. “Couple of ways to do this, there shouldn't be an alarm or anything.”

>Then we blast our way in.
>It's Zeon tech, you may be able to find a way to bypass the electronic lock.
>Other?

>>48435913
>>It's Zeon tech, you may be able to find a way to bypass the electronic lock.

>>48435913
>It's Zeon tech, you may be able to find a way to bypass the electronic lock.

Is the blasting option meant to be a localized, focused explosion to disengage just the lock? And not bust the whole hatch?

>>48435913
>It's Zeon tech, you may be able to find a way to bypass the electronic lock.
Never default to explosives. Use them if it's taking too long, though.

>>48436011
It'd be a fairly big explosion, but not something that'd risk the whole station.

>>48436111
Alright, no explosions then. Yet.

Say, what are the properties of that colony sealing muck? Does it expand once it sets? We could try that in the lock's inner workings if so, but I'm fine with whatever's cooked up.

>>48435913
>alright, making myself lunch then I'll write the update

>back with lunch
>dice+3d10, DC is 5 due to familiarity

Rolled 6, 5, 3 = 14 (3d10)

>>48436359

Rolled 3, 10, 6 = 19 (3d10)

>>48436359

Rolled 5, 9, 2 = 16 (3d10)

>>48436359

>writing

>>48436483
“It's Zeon tech,” you mutter. “Probably from a Komusai shuttle, we'd guess?”

“Most of the materiel available was Zeon,” Cima tells you, brushing gloved fingertips against the outer hull. “So it wouldn't be a surprise.”

“Rossweisse, can you get us a schematic for a door like this?” you ask.

After a few moments, your partner replies. “Got it. Carrina, first you need to remove the panel around the keypad.”

“There's some icing here,” you note as you draw your sidearm. “Will that cause us a problem?”

“No, so long as it's just the exterior,” Rosse explains. You fire four muffled rounds into the corners of the panel and pry it free once the screws holding it in place have been destroyed.

“Got it free,” you announce, looking down at the wiring to give Rossweisse a clear look. “What're we looking for here?”

“That yellow wire that leads into the keypad, you need to remove it from the back of the keypad, strip it at least a centimeter, and insert it into the contact point for that red wire...”

After several long minutes of instruction, you manage to work around the electronic keypad and are rewarded when the exterior hatch opens.

“We'll wait here,” the Marine NCO tells you, still alert. “Just try not to stir up too much trouble in there, ma'am?”

“No promises,” you reply, leading Cima into the airlock and shutting the door behind you.

After the system cycles you remove your helmet to save oxygen for the return trip.

>Look around you for any hints at where to go next?
>Ask Cima if she knows the way from here?
>Investigate the actual construction itself... how did a bunch of pirates pull this off?
>Other?

>>48436727
>Ask Cima if she knows the way from here?
>Look around you for any hints at where to go next?

>>48436727
>>Look around you for any hints at where to go next?
>>Ask Cima if she knows the way from here?

>>48436727
>Ask Cima if she knows the way from here?
>Investigate the actual construction itself... how did a bunch of pirates pull this off?
Stick with getting the info from what Cima knows first, so we can gauge if it warrants any interest.

>writing

>>48437001
>3d10 for searching

Rolled 2, 8, 6 = 16 (3d10)

>>48437065

Rolled 5, 2, 5 = 12 (3d10)

>>48437065
Okay.

Rolled 6, 4, 5 = 15 (3d10)

>>48437065

>>48437086
Taking this.

Apologies for the delay, my sister's cat got his claws stuck in his own tail again. Clawed and bit my hands up pretty good. I'll get started again in a few minutes.

>>48437302
Stuck in his own tail? Oh my, how embarrassing for that cat.

>>48437302
Sounds nasty. Must be one fluffy cat for that to happen though.

>>48437320
More importantly,
>AGAIN
He's ten fat pounds of hair, claws, and teeth. I've never heard the feline equivalent to inarticulate rage before, but that's definitely what that was.

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>>48437302
>sister's cat got his claws stuck in his own tail again.

>>48437359
“Any ideas, Cima?” you ask, glancing around you. It seems like a stretch of corridor, with compartments on all four sides, but you have no idea what's in any of them or whether they're all even pressurized.

Cima shakes her head. “Should be a fairly straight shot, a lot of the other compartments are either filled with machinery or had another section of ship welded to them.”

Okay, good to hear. At least she didn't tell you that some of them are open to space, which you'd imagine would be the first thing she'd mention were it the case.

“Are any of them... you know.”

“No,” Cima assures you. “It seems they went to a good deal of trouble to seal the exterior hull and keep it that way.”

“So who's the 'they' in this case?” you ask aloud as you search around the corridor for any additional sign of what to do next.

“Outside contractors,” Cima snorts. “No idea what the hell that's supposed to mean but it's the only answer I could get out of anyone.”

Something catches your eye about a panel near the airlock: not anything about the design, or its function, but the writing stenciled on it. It's a warning, in three languages:

Warning: Depressurization
警告:減圧
Bнимaниe: cнижaвaнe

“Now that's nostalgic,” you smirk, directing Cima to the panel in question. “Notice the discrepancy?”

“No German,” she muses quietly. “No French either. What the hell is this?”
>1/2

>>48437511
Same three languages as were on our mystery ship. The plot thickens.

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>>48437511
“It seems like it was stenciled on by the work crew, rather than being original to the vessel,” you guess. “We could imagine a need for warnings such as that to be added, since unexpected compartments may have been exposed to vacuum during construction. The old warnings would've been no good.”

“A good guess,” Cima admits. “But surely guesswork isn't enough?”

"That third language looks the same as one we saw aboard our derelict," you inform her. "She was running a Martian distress signal, but she wasn't Martian. We think this may bring us one step closer to figuring out what she really was..."

>Retain the video feed, get it analyzed when you've actually got time to upload the files directly to ALICE.
>Search for original warning markings, see if they're in German?
>Worry about that later, you don't want to linger any longer than you have to.
>Other?

>>48437561
>Retain the video feed, get it analyzed when you've actually got time to upload the files directly to ALICE.

>>48437561
>>Retain the video feed, get it analyzed when you've actually got time to upload the files directly to ALICE.
Does this mean Russian is basically a dead language in the UC-verse?

>>48437561
>Retain the video feed, get it analyzed when you've actually got time to upload the files directly to ALICE.

The warnings weren't originally there huh? So it's just the people involved that might have a connection with the mystery ship.

>>48437561
>Retain the video feed, get it analyzed when you've actually got time to upload the files directly to ALICE.

>writing

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>>48437951
“We can get it confirmed later,” you decide. “Let's keep moving forward, and keep it quiet.”

Cima nods in agreement, and you both head down the corridor as quietly as possible. After checking a few doorways to ensure that you're on the only possible path, you finally find yourself overlooking a large, open chamber with gantries along all sides. It seems you've found the fabrication facilities, and it's a large enough space for a single ship.

“It's enough space for a single Musai,” Cima confirms, seemingly unsurprised. “I suspected as much would have to be true, though I've never been down here to confirm it.”

“There's got to be a computer terminal somewhere here, with access to the records we need,” you conclude. “Any ideas?”

“The control room looks like it's up there,” Cima suggests, pointing at what seems to be a glass box overlooking the area. It's two decks up or so, and on the opposite wall.

“It's in use,” you observe, noting that there are quite a few people up there including two that seem armed.

>We can sneak in.
>Two bodies is no problem, the rest will probably cooperate.
>Nonlethal only, keep word from getting out.
>Other?

>>48438198
>Nonlethal only, keep word from getting out.

>>48438198
>>Nonlethal only, keep word from getting out.

>>48438198
>Other
Let's look for another place to access the computer network.
Let's keep this quiet.

>>48438198
>>Nonlethal only, keep word from getting out.

>>48438198
>Nonlethal only, keep word from getting out.
>Other?
If they're the only personnel, and if it's an airtight room, cut the alarms and pump it full of tear gas, if available.

Or leak CO2. Or cut the air. Enough to just make them sluggish for easier, nonlethal takedowns.

>writing

>>48438606
Also,
>3d10, DC 6

Rolled 6, 6, 8 = 20 (3d10)

>>48438631

Rolled 3, 3, 9 = 15 (3d10)

>>48438631
My dice shall pierce the heavens!

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>>48438654

Rolled 1, 2, 9 = 12 (3d10)

>>48438631

>>48438694
It's easy when the so-called “guards” aren't even really watching for anyone. You feel that they're attitude is completely lax, so after some quiet climbing you're able to crack the first guard over the head from behind with your pistol while Cima leaps at the second. She slams his head into the deck and punches him in the mouth, which puts his lights out immediately.

It's then that you notice something useful: one of the pirate guards is carrying a smoke grenade.

You and Cima share a glance. You know what you have to do.

The few technicians standing around the control room are in for a shock when smoke starts pouring in through the door and vents, and their immediate response is to panic and flood out through into the hangar where they're easy pickings. Three drop almost immediately, and the remaining two barely get a chance to put up a defense before being knocked out. You and Cima enter the control room, helmets on to protect against the smoke, and examine the computer terminals.

“Here,” Cima tells you, motioning to a terminal. You insert a portable memory device and with some help from Cima in navigating the interface you begin to download the records.

After a minute or two, you hear the first siren.

“We've gotta go!” Cima announces, glancing around the room. “One of the mechanics probably reported fire before we got to them.”

>Unplug the device, get moving now.
>Wait for the device to finish its download, even if it leads to a firefight
>Other?

>>48439083
>>Unplug the device, get moving now.

>>48439083
>>Wait for the device to finish its download, even if it leads to a firefight
Haven't flexed future eye in a while.

>Other?
Lock down the entry points where they're gonna come from. Those that can be accessed via terminal anyway. Leave a point of exit though.

>>48439199
I'm good with this.

>>48439083
>Wait for the device to finish its download, even if it leads to a firefight

>>48439083
>Unplug the device, get moving now.

>>48439317
>Use the Eye
>Don't use the Eye

>>48439407
A vote?

>Use the Eye

>>48439442
Indeed, a vote.

>>48439407
>Use the Eye

>>48439407
>>Use the Eye
Press the shiny button.

Using the haxEye wins,
>3d10, DC 6, best of four

Rolled 1, 10, 6 = 17 (3d10)

>>48439584

Rolled 8, 1, 3 = 12 (3d10)

>>48439584

>>48439589
Lol?

This is when I got us nuked in the last story!

>>48439606
*like when

Rolled 2, 9, 6 = 17 (3d10)

>>48439584

Rolled 2, 4, 1 = 7 (3d10)

>>48439584

Rolled 3, 2, 7 = 12 (3d10)

>>48439584

>>48439584
Regular pass.
>writing
>coming up on the end for the session

>>48439719
Hope that's enough to encompass Cima's safety too.

>>48439743
Don't worry, she'll be fine for now.

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>>48439776
“Cima, you may have to cover for us,” you announce, “we're going to use something that'll tire us out pretty quickly.”

“Okay,” she replies, confused as to what you mean. “What do you... ah.”

She nods in understanding as she sees what's hidden underneath your eyepatch. “So it's gonna be something creepy and Newtypey. Got it.”

Your eye sees everything. Five armed men are waiting for you when you exit the control room, and Cima is hit immediately in the chest by a rifle round. That scenario is over. Then you wait for them inside the control room to ambush them, only to have a grenade roll in through the door and go off before you can kick it back at them. Game over. You try shooting through the door, they move around and fire through the windows. Cima's still alive when you lose that vision, so it seems you'd be shot first.

That leaves one, rather drastic option.

“We're going out the window,” you announce, tossing Cima a second smoke grenade you stripped from the two guards outside. “On our mark.”

“We're doing what!?” she demands, finger finding the pin.

You wait for a moment, until you can feel that the gunmen are in just the right spot for this trick to work: all bunched up right near the door. Your hand rests on the memory device as a progress bar fills...

“Now!”

You put several rounds through the window in the same instant you pull the drive out, and Cima pops the smoke and chucks it out the window. The noise of several machine pistols chattering away is almost deafening as you crash through the windows on the other side of the control room, careening down and away from Cima's grenade while the pirates focus on the smoke itself.
>1/2

>>48439977
With a roll you reach a gantry two floors below the control room, and Cima does so not long after you. You barely have time to orient yourself before the shooters above figure your trick out and pour fire down on you, but by that point you've kicked off a railing and begun crossing the hangar a second time: this time heading straight for the same access point you used to get into the station.

You tear down the corridor and take a knee, aiming back down the hallway. It's exhausting already, but you keep your right eye firmly fixed on the future through it all and see the next challenge: your pursuers turn the corner before Cima can finish punching instructions into the airlock. The door opens, and you're both hit by several rounds which puncture Cima's pressure suit.

You have to stop that from happening somehow.

>Strap yourselves in with wire and have your Marines prepare to blow the exterior hatch, that'll clear out your pursuers.
>Open fire before the pirates turn the corner, it MAY give you enough time and it won't require you to focus on anything but shooting.
>You may still be able to bluff your way out of the situation if you play your cards right (write-in).

>>48440047
>Strap yourselves in with wire and have your Marines prepare to blow the exterior hatch, that'll clear out your pursuers.

>>48440047
>>Strap yourselves in with wire and have your Marines prepare to blow the exterior hatch, that'll clear out your pursuers.

>>48440047
>>Strap yourselves in with wire and have your Marines prepare to blow the exterior hatch, that'll clear out your pursuers.

>writing
>dice+3d10

Rolled 4, 6, 10 = 20 (3d10)

>>48440358

Rolled 7, 7, 6 = 20 (3d10)

>>48440358

Rolled 1, 6, 8 = 15 (3d10)

>>48440358

Rolled 2, 8, 2 = 12 (3d10)

>>48440358

Rolled 7, 10, 9, 4 = 30 (4d10)

>decent results
>writing

File: This is my violation face.png (176 KB, 500x281)

176 KB PNG

>>48440449
Oh boy. Whose roll is this for, I wonder?

File: m6phaz2N4V1qcjglso6_1280.jpg (51 KB, 680x383)

51 KB JPG

>>48440358
“Keep working! Marines, ready to blow the hull on our mark!” you shout as Cima frantically works to cycle the airlock. You produce two lengths of wire from your suit's emergency kit, at your left thigh, and hook Cima's suit up to the handle on one side of the airlock before quickly hooking yourself in to the opposite side.

The inner door of the airlock has only managed to open by the time your pursuers turn the corner, and you fire a pair of rounds to slow them down. Their leader, however, quickly notices the setup you've drawn him and his men into. You can feel his immediate sense of panic as he realizes what's going to happen next.

“Magnets!” he roars, hoping that his mens' magnetized soles will be able to hold them in place.

“BLOW!” you roar at the same time, and the sound of the blast behind you is quickly drowned out by the powerful roar of the dockyard depressurizing through that access point.

The magnetized boots aren't nearly enough.

Five pirates go screaming out the exterior hatch and into the silence of empty space, while you and Cima are stopped short by the wire you looped around the handles. The wire is pulled taut by your momentum, and remains taut as you dangle below the station's hull.

Normally this might be a problem for you and Cima, but Rossweisse is already on it.

She's broken the Sericea free of its berthing on the other side of the station, and quickly takes a position five hundred meters below you with the launch ramp's internal elevator exposed. All that remains for you to do is take aim.

“Get ready, Cima!” you shout across the comms. “It's a long way down!”

“You're not serious!?” she shouts back before you put a round through the knot in the wire that's holding her in place, and her momentum takes her straight down to the Sericea and through the elevator. You then press the muzzle of your sidearm against your wire and pull the trigger.
>1/2

>>48440670
With a crash that almost certainly sprains your ankle despite burning the last of your suit's chemical propellant in an effort to slow yourself at the last second, you arrive aboard the Sericea. You're joined in the elevator shaft shortly afterward by your three Marines, who broke much earlier but took a little longer in exchange.

“We're aboard, Rossweisse!” you shout, limping out into the hangar where Cima's stripped her helmet off and sits on the deck.

“You're damn crazy, you know that?” she pants. “But hell, at least your kinda crazy's always exciting!”

“Carrina!” Rossweisse reports, “I hate to bring you bad news, but Cruithe's scrambled mobile suits. Three signatures, coming up fast!”

You rush to the cockpit of your own Gundam, quickly switching on the viewscreens even as the hatch shuts behind you. “Give us your best tactical image, now!”

The front center monitor snaps into life, and you're greeted by a sight that makes your blood run cold: three black blurs darting through space, their mirrored armor glinting slightly from the bursts of their own maneuvering thrusters.

“Report!” you press, “what're the signatures like?”

“Minimal thermal signature, no radar, poor visual silhouette,” ALICE reports, her synthetic voice unusually grim. “It seems we have located the source of that hull treatment.”

>>48440789
And that's all for the weekend! Thanks for showing up, and next weekend you can look forward to fighting the "New Black Tri-Stars": now with advanced stealth coatings.

Archive is up, hope you had fun, and I'll stick around for questions and comments.

>>48440810
Thanks for running King.

I'm guessing not all the pirate inhabitants are in the loop about Cuithe's weapons development?

>>48440844
Kind of seems that way, dunnit?

Will we be let in on what the others from the first run are doing, or will we be kept in the dark?

>>48440844
The individual crews don't talk or cooperate much, so you'd be right.

>>48440871
Well, as long as it lowers the chances of the search party Cima contracted pulling a 180 after this incident, I'd breathe a bit easier.

Not having a face, name, or group to identify with is really way different compared to the previous encounters. They're looking pretty successful in that respect for being this elusive. And deeply entrenched, judging from the diversity of those they're cooperating with.

>>48441003
>Not having a face, name, or group to identify with is really way different compared to the previous encounters
You'll find out who it is soon enough.

>>48441124
I'm guessing the Jovians. That's a pretty safe bet, no matter what conflict you're looking at in the Universal Century, Jupiter's going to be in there somewhere.

>>48441124
Thanks for the run.