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File: Mekton Advanced Cover.jpg (253 KB, 709x913)
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Welcome back, and hello newcomers! Hopefully I can keep my posting time more consistent now.

This is a quest about a big galaxy and big robots, using the Mekton Zeta system, because I've got an attraction to terrible 90s systems with too much crunch to be healthy.

Previous thread:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/704077/

Character sheet:
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1OnHAu3LKin8Ys2xuj2ZClOlkZJRhF5aRFTj37wudrmM/edit#gid=0

Summary of last thread:
After selecting a character to follow the story of, we meet Nyla Patton. She has short red hair, brown eyes, and a brash, boyish personality. She is an explorer and trailblazer of space, the final frontier, mapping courses to unregistered planets and refining FTL routes from or to designated systems. Nyla makes a living in recording and selling this information, her travels often necessitating her to explore an unregistered world to document its life and environment while retrieving samples as evidence and for study by those more qualified.

The galaxy is controlled by the Galactic Federation, run by a Council of five races that play major roles in the galaxy. Those races are:
Humans, squishy expansionist creatures.
Dryder, mercantile people varying in size and looking like Human-spider halfbreeds.
Raz'ask, peaceful bird-like beings with large wings and basic psionic potential.
Pyhua, small, brilliant, gray-skinned beings with strong psionic potential.
And the Usamimi, a beautiful and intelligent race with rabbit-like features.

Nyla was on approach to an unregistered world when she found a strange shuttle bearing the marking of crossed blue wings surrounded by a halo like a planetary ring. Investigation of the shuttle revealed that its lone occupant, a Raz'ask, was in some sort of psionic-induced seizure. According to a recall notice on the cockpit dashboard, this shuttle was just one of many, though it missed the rendezvous time before its mothership made a jump away to avoid "psionic interference" from on-world.

Nyla was in the process of attempting to stabilize the Raz'ask.

This is where we continue.
>>
>>740272

Rolled 8 + 4 (1d10 + 4) = 12

>>739544
>Try to initiate some sort of medical treatment. (Roll Medical, 1d10+4)
A basic kit might not have anything useful for psionic injuries, so focus on getting the birdy stable before going off and looking for one.
Putting everything into perspective, you stop and think. The planet was unregistered on your starmap, meaning it hasn't been officially declared as discovered. Whoever these Raz'ask are, they are aware of the planet's existence. And whatever's located on-world is nasty enough to send a Raz'ask into some sort of seizure, which must be rather nasty for anyone possessing psi potential.

Luckily, you're rather ungifted in that avenue. Feedback, interference, or whatever other hazards could occur to someone psionically sensitive are of little consequence to you. This gives you the chance to try and stabilize your patient here with little fear.

Unfortunately, you're not very well practiced, in terms of both medical and psionic concerns. This leaves you fairly unprepared to handle the situation. You do what you can, though, based on your knowledge of seizures. Prying your fingers beneath the soft plumage of the Raz'ask's neck, you loosen the collar of its robe, pulling off any metal jewelry and sharp pieces that it might harm itself on in the course of its seizure. You're not sure how to handle the purple glowing eyes, though. Withdrawing your canteen, you pour a little water into the gloved palms of your still spacesuit-clad hands, splashing it onto the Raz'ask's cheeks. You run through this several times before stepping back to see if it recovers at all. You're not sure you had any effect, but you did your best.

The Raz'ask slowly ceases its convulsions, leveling into twitches and finally coming to a rest. Its chest continues heaving, but its eyes are at least no longer glowing, having faded to a normal hue once the convulsions stopped. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you pull yourself up to the cockpit console.

>Bring the shuttle back to your own ship.
>Retrieve anything valuable from the shuttle and leave.
>Wait to see if the Raz'ask's condition changes.
>Check the rear of the shuttle.
>Flip through any data you find to see if there is any more information about the planet or Raz'ask.
>>
>>750783
>Retrieve anything valuable from the shuttle and leave
>>
>>750783
>Wait to see if the Raz'ask's condition changes.
We ought to check if any further treatment is required. Also, if he survives, taking the valuables wouldn't actually constitute salvage any more.
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>>750906
Hmm, you're right. Switching.
>>
>>750906
>>750930

Spinning the cockpit chair to face the Raz'ask, you watch its condition carefully. As nice as some of this tech - or even the shuttle itself - would be to have, it isn't worth possible prison time, or the life you just tried to help. Taking anything from the shuttle, if the Raz'ask ends up surviving, wouldn't be considered salvage anymore.

You find yourself waiting with bated breath upwards of half an hour before the Raz'ask slowly stirs. Rising from the chair, you kneel before it, helping it to sit up. It raises one of its lengthy, feathered wings to its face, long fingers curling around its beak. It is distinctly reminiscent of a Human running their palm across their face. The Raz'ask blinks, trying to get its bearings. Slowly turning its head, its eyes widen as it faces you, beak opening in a surprised expression. A low caw escapes it, and your translator works to decipher the noise into something you're capable of understanding. It speaks in a weak, strained tone. "Who... are you? You are not of the nest..."

You try to make your posture as reassuring as possible, laying a hand on its shoulder. "No. No I am not. How do you feel? Is your head alright?"

The Raz'ask's fingers move from its beak to its head, wincing slightly. "It hurts... the currents... are strange, here. Please, let us go."

>"Alright. I'll take us to the next station."
>"Not until I see what's down there... I can take you back to my ship and ferry it safely away first. My Mekton is re-entry capable."
>"Not until I see what's down there... I won't be long."
>"Can you answer some questions, first?"
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>>751140
>"Alright. I'll take us to the next station."
>"Can you answer some questions once you're feeling better?"
As far as I recall, we weren't doing anything in particular on the planet other than making a detour to pass the time. We can ask the Raz'ask about the planet and what it was doing there once it's recovered.
>>
>>751140
>"Alright. I'll take us to the next station."
>"Can you answer some questions once you're feeling better?"
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>>751154
>>751165

You nod reassuringly. "Alright. I'll take us to the next station. I've got an FTL-capable ship not far from here. I can pilot your shuttle in and make a jump away, then we can get you proper treatment. Can you answer some questions once you're feeling better?"

The Raz'ask nods slowly. "I... owe you that, for certain. Sharing my knowledge would be a pittance for my life in exchange. You have performed a service I shan't soon forget, Human." The Raz'ask sways gently, splaying a wing out onto the floor to support itself. "The currents... are torrential here..." it mumbles to itself, head panning to glance out the cockpit window at the planet below. You give the Raz'ask a moment to its considerations before easing yourself beneath one of its wings, lifting and helping it to stand. It rests most of its weight on you, making the trip rather arduous. You're certainly not weak, but the birds and their flouncy robes always weigh a ton.

You help the Raz'ask - whose name you really should ask later, you think - to a position where it can comfortably lay, setting it down and returning to the cockpit. You came in here anticipating something dead and horrific, but this is a bit more preferable. Once the Raz'ask is comfortable, you return to the cockpit, giving the controls a skim before finding the necessary functions. You initiate the throttle and coast the shuttle towards your ship.

The process in docking the shuttle with The Gold Retriever is finnicky at best, requiring a trip out and into the shuttle to open the bay manually from your own cockpit. Your fairly dated tech really wasn't designed for a single person to handle this kind of work, you surmise as you set the shuttle down comfortably beside your Mek. After cycling the airlock in the shuttle yet again to seal the bay doors, you breathe a sigh of relief once the bay is fully pressurized again. You turn back towards your Mek, looking over its shape and form with a reminiscent smile.

Your Mek is fairly basic in its nature. A biped with two arms, a head, and just enough thrust for proper flight on any worlds of average gravity. Equipped with boosters capable of exiting the atmosphere from planetside, along with a limited-use re-entry package, it's a fairly versatile Mekton for its price. The weapons leave something to be desired, however, being little more than a glorified combat knife, a basic rifle and some wrist-mounted missiles. You've always wanted to get fancier toys for it, but the money just hasn't come yet.

With a shrug, you ensure your guest is comfortable within their shuttle before returning to your own cockpit, plotting a course to the next station. It'll take about ten hours to arrive. You settle in for the long haul, plotting the course and setting navigation.

With that settled, you let the FTL drive spool, warming up before it fires with a decisive whir. The vibrations resonate through the ship for a moment before leveling out, the window outside becoming a blur.
>>
>>751565
You watch the streaks fly by for a moment, fascinated as always by the effect. You offer your dashboard bobblehead a smile before turning back to the ship proper, kicking a can in the process.

Maybe this trip will afford the chance to clean up, you surmise as you finally think to remove your helmet. The quiet hiss fills your ears before you're breathing the open, recycled air of your ship. With a groan and a roll of your shoulders, you remove the suit, returning to more casual clothes and heading to your kitchen to prepare something for yourself and your guest. A little hospitality goes a long way, after all.

The hours pass by uneventfully. You ensure to check in on your guest throughout, though after eating, you find them unconscious for the majority of the trip. The unconsciousness, thankfully, doesn't include glowing eyes or convulsions, so you only hope they're not comatose.

Soon enough, you find yourself tiring, and after cleaning up you fall down onto your cot with a thud. Staring at the ceiling, your thoughts wander. A Raz'ask ship, with multiple shuttles, investigating a planet with strange psionic resonance enough to cripple the psi-capable. Whatever's on that planet could be of interest, though the question of reporting it to the Federation, returning to investigate further, or selling the information as-is remains to be answered.

Your alarm wakes you up, indicating arrival at your destination and the need to initiate docking protocols. Yawning and stretching, your roaming fingers scratch at several itches as you clamber out of your quarters towards the cockpit. The cold metal floor freezes your feet even through your slippers, but you're too lazy to give a damn at this hour as you plod up to the cockpit. Sitting in the chair and giving yourself a spin, you look out to the station floating ahead, calling up the station on comms before they can hail you first.

"This is The Gold Retriever, hailing station Uail-B. Requesting permission to dock."

A moment of silence it met by, "We read you, Retriever. Please transmit your credentials."

A few swipes and taps on your computer send the information necessary. Your HUD updates with a new indicator, revealing a line trailing towards a docking bay as the station's control responds. "We have received your transmission, Retriever. You have permission to land. Please navigate to the indicated dock."

"Copy, control. Heading there now. Please alert medical staff to be on-site, I have an individual in need of urgent check-up."

There's a short pause and some quiet tapping. "Uhh, copy. Federation medical staff will be present for your docking. Have the patient ready."

"Will do, control. Retriever, over and out."

You cut the connection, heading for the dock. A bit of navigational tweaking and maneuvering of the thrusters places you in position to gently coast into the dock, magnetic clamps stretching from the walls to hold your ship in position.
>>
(I clearly have too much to say, sorry)
>>751655

A set of metal doors descend from your point of entrance, sealing off the way. Hissing fills the room, and a red light in the dock turns green, indicating the area to be pressurized and safe to depart. You head for your new friend, who is thankfully up and not comatose. Briefly updating them on the situation, they agree to the checkup, and you escort them out to the waiting staff and their medical entourage.

>Go with the Raz'ask.
>Head for the bar. Could use a drink after that.
>Report to the authorities about the planet and the danger it poses.
>Check in with a contact. They might have some information... or some answers.
>Poke around the Raz'ask's shuttle for anything of interest, data or otherwise.
>Download the planet's location to a navchip and find a buyer.
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>>751676
>Ask the staff to contact you once the Raz'ask has recovered.
>Check in with a contact. They might have some information... or some answers.
No real reason to go with them; we'll only interfere with the treatment. We can check up on it later.
>>
>>751676
>Poke around the Raz'ask's shuttle for anything of interest, data or otherwise.
Check out the cargo, but don't take anything without his(?) permission.



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