Arc 1, Finale: I want them alive. NO disintegrations.

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> ---
<El-Cideon> After taking a moment to find new spacesuits for Arsenic and Stigma, everyone tromps out of the research colony and across the moon's surface. There's some chatter across the main channel--Kartch telling Bruce to have the ship ready and all that--but no one's paying attention to Lagoon Company right now.
<Targo> "This is the private channel, don't look up now. We'll get our chance once we're on the ship." Targo pauses. "I should be able to get arsenic in the infirmary for treatment, and that, as they say, will be that. We'll want to make our move shortly after we get back on board."
<Wilhelmina> "I'll get the engineer to come help with that, under the pretense of her misbehaving and refusing treatment," Wilhelmina comments. "Think you could handle that as well?"
<Forrest> "We going to all be together or split up for this?" Forrest asks.
<Wilhelmina> "This depends on whether police cruiser systems are networked," Wilhelmina responds, looking into the distance where the ship would be. "If so, I can wrestle control from any access point. Good luck operating things by fuse panels without an engineer."
<Targo> "I'll be in the infirmary. I'm thinking you and Wil stick together on the upper decks and try to split them up," replies Targo, thinking. "After that.. hmm. If Wil can take control of the ship, then that is good. If not, then we converge on the bridge."
<Targo> roll 1d20+11 I'd like to know of good ways to storm the ship from the inside, or if there's some weakness in the pirates organisation I've noticed
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+11 I'd like to know of good ways to storm the ship from the inside, or if there's some weakness in the pirates organisation I've noticed and gets 13."12 [1d20=2]
<Targo> roll 1d20+11 tech roll for knowing how the computer systems on the ship can be hacked
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+11 tech roll for knowing how the computer systems on the ship can be hacked and gets 16."12 [1d20=5]
<Targo> "As for that, though... well. Access will likely be highly restricted, given that it's a police ship. There are only a few terminals you could use to get in, and for all we know, they could all be on the bridge itself."
<Wilhelmina> "I suspect engineering must have an override of some sort," Wilhelmina muses. "But if we take out the engineer and their own technical specialist, it would be moot if we take the bridge."
<Targo> "That's what I thought. I'll have the technical specialist play nurse and try to deal with him as well," remarks Targo. "Hmm. Do you guys have any idea on how to catch the others off-guard? The less guns pointed at us at once, the better."
<Wilhelmina> "If we seize the bridge, I'll do the same trick with the lift. Explosives for the rec room if the pirates gather there, fire for the bridge."
<Forrest> "Hitting them while they're busy flying the ship should give us a chance to hurt them before they can react... might damage the controls, though," Forrest opines.
<Wilhelmina> "There's a chance they won't man the bridge in strength, which is when it would be best to strike. Normal people like to relax with a drink after a job, right?"
<Targo> "This is not a ship full of normal people. We'll have to see where they go and adjust accordingly. I'll trust you guys to do your best once I've taken the saps who come to get doctor'd out."
<Wilhelmina> "Right. I'll get the engineer to show up, and then work on priming the charges. How's that?"
<Targo> "Just wait for my signal. I don't want another guy to deal with if something goes wrong in there."
<Wilhelmina> "Charges first, then. Okay."
<Targo> "The engineer, is he going to be hard to handle?"
<Wilhelmina> "He stayed behind during the raid for a reason."
<Targo> "Alright. Good luck, everyone."
<El-Cideon> The group arrives back at the Black Wind in short order. The pirates don't waste any time in climbing aboard and getting ready to lift off. "We're not sticking around here longer than we have to," Kartch announces.
* Wilhelmina thinks it's a good plan, and nods curtly, heading for her room.
<Targo> "Damn straight," agrees Targo, having his glass helmet slide open as soon as he enters a pressurized environment again. "Arsenic! You've been shot pretty badly. The adredaline probably kept you going, but you're going to need better treatment."
* Forrest goes to join Wilhelmina.
<El-Cideon> Kartch himself heads for the bridge with Karma in tow. Arsenic moves to follow him but is turned back by her captain. "He's right, actually. Don't look at me like that, it's your own damn fault. I've told you not to play commando when we move in as a team. Go get yourself fixed up." With this, he and the psychic disappear into the bridge.
<Targo> "It's Frank, right? I could use a nurse," adds Targo, glancing at the hacker with a slight smirk. "Don't worry, it's nothing a layman can't do. Just follow my instructions exactly."
<El-Cideon> There's no sign of the engineer. Presumably he's in the engine room, as usual. "You did nice work today, folks," Bruce announces to the group. "Somewhere, soon, stockbrockers on Paragon or somewhere else are going to get the jitters over what we've done here. And any day that happens is a good one."
<El-Cideon> "Is it really necessary?" Frank responds. "I was gonna..." he gestures vaguely, "celebrate."
<El-Cideon> "I'm headed downstairs anyway," Reina cuts in. "I'll help out if it's needed."
<Targo> "It would be good for her to have a friendly face during t- ah, that would be fine," shrugs Targo. "Alright, let's go."
<El-Cideon> Arsenic and Reina accompany Targo on the lift to the lower deck. The brunette looks quite unhappy, but this is hardly unusual for her. Bruce and Frank vanish into one of the crew quarters once they're gone.,
<Targo> "By the way. Do you have a hose or something? I should've cleaned this place earlier," mutters Targo, heading towards the infirmary once he's down there.
~
<Wilhelmina> Once back in her room, Wilhelmina checks her flamethrower over, and then goes to prime their explosives, four in number, attaching timers to them. She saves the last one in reserve.
Wilhelmina checks over her work. "Once we get the signal from Targo," she tells Forrest, "I'll set the timers. Don't be there when they go off."
<Forrest> "I ain't that dumb," Forrest grins.
<Wilhelmina> "They'll take out anything in that room." Wilhelmina allows herself a grin. "Wish I could be there."
~
<El-Cideon> "Sure," Reina says, heading to a washstation in the infirmary. In addition to there being a simple sink, there's a small spray extension that should be able to reach anywhere in the little room.
<Targo> Targo shuts the door behind and gives the operating table a quick spraydown, hopefully removing all of Arsenic's earlier work in favour of a more sterile environment. "What happened to your last doctor?" he asks, curiously.
<El-Cideon> Arsenic watches all of this sullenly; Reina does the talking. "Died on a job back in Coleille. Too bad, he was decent enough."
<Targo> "Lie down, please," adds Targo, beginning to arrange various medical items on a nearby table. "Reina, I'll need you to pass me things as I need them," he adds, going through the equipment on the shelves. "Good, it's all labelled."
<El-Cideon> "Sure thing," she says. The supplies are ample for whatever procedure Targo may wish to perform. Meanwhile, there's the sense of motion as the ship takes off from Ouna.
<El-Cideon> Arsenic grudgingly lies down on the table, on her stomach (the worst of the burns is on her back).
<Targo> Once Arsenic has lied town, Targo makes a show of inspecting her wounds and having Reina fetch things for him, but he's really thinking of what he needs to inject Arsenic with to knock her out for several hours. And, of course, he plans to have enough ready for three.
<El-Cideon> There's enough anesthetic here to keep a bull under for hours. As long as no one catches on to Targo's real intentions, he should be okay.
<Targo> "Alright, I'm going to give you a shot. Hold still..." murmurs Targo, already with a story prepared in case Reina happens to have a degree in medical science she forgot about until just now.
<El-Cideon> OOC: roll deception?
<Targo> OOC: I'll take 10 for 26~
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+8 Arsenic
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+8 Arsenic and gets 18."12 [1d20=10]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+11 Reina
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+11 Reina and gets 31."12 [1d20=20]
<El-Cideon> Arsenic glares dully at the wall as Targo goes about his work. "Hey--" Reina seems about to say something, but stops herself. She does, however, amble over to a corner just within Targo's peripheral vision and get her gun ready. Oddly, she seems content to let him do his work.
<Targo> Targo quirks an eyebrow at this, injecting Arsenic with the full contents of his syringe... and letting his other hand tug on his own gun. "You're sharp," he quirks. "Seeking alternative employment?"
<El-Cideon> "It wouldn't be my first choice," she says carefully. "Say what you like about Kartch, but he keeps the money coming in. Keep your hands where I can see them, please. What's your angle? And what'd you do to the bitch?" She nods at Arsenic. "She dead?"
<El-Cideon> Arsenic is totally limp and clearly unconscious, at least, but you know you didn't give her enough to kill her.
<Targo> "She's out. And about Kartch," adds Targo, snorting. "You've got leader who pissed off some important people by taking something that belongs to them, and we- we are the hounds." He muses on this for a moment. "There's an advantage to working on the legitimate side. They let you off on misdemeanours. But you guys? You guys are fu- well. Not all of you."
<El-Cideon> "Doesn't surprise me too much," she says, keeping you covered with her rifle as she maneuvers around the table to the door. "You don't make it far in any business without catching a few enemies. And we're not without patrons ourselves. So tell me: who's yours?" (OOC: Persuasion to change attitude if you want, -5 mod).
<Targo> roll 1d20+16+1d6 force point!
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+16+1d6 force point! and gets 32."12 [1d20=10][1d6=6]
<El-Cideon> She doesn't lower her gun just yet, but she's clearly willing to listen to reason.
<Targo> "Well, that's just it, isn't it?" remarks Targo. "Government officials, of course. I must have forgotten the names, because they don't matter to me. What I do know- is that they will not stop. And while I can finish this job and go home, never to be troubled again... it won't be the same for your leaders. They're simply too notorious, and you can't expect your patrons-" (more)
<Targo> "-to hide you from the UES for long. Of course, you're just a subordinate. Your name isn't on the hitlists." He spreads his hands. "If it's money you want, I have it. What you really need is a way to detatch yourself from Kartch. And I have that, too. I suppose you can fight us here. You might win- no, everything would be prepared by now." (More.)
<Targo> "But even if you do... another fight will soon await you, and eventually you'll simply be thrown in the line of fire to let someone else get away. And that will be the end."
<El-Cideon> "'Prepared?' Your friends upstairs going to work already? I don't hear gunshots." She thinks for a moment, paused by the door. "So, that line about misdemeanors...that for real? How about a few felonies?"
<Targo> "You'd get a new identity," replies Targo, shrugging. "A new life, I suppose. Anything you've done to date would be struck off. And then you'd be pretty much free to do as you please. At least, as free as anyone gets out here."
<Targo> roll 1d20+16+1d6 force points are love
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+16+1d6 force points are love and gets 30."12 [1d20=10][1d6=4]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+11
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+11 and gets 25."12 [1d20=14]
<El-Cideon> She's silent for a long moment, then: "...Alright. You'll speak for me when we go to the authorities. I don't feel good about betraying these people, but I didn't really get into this business by choice. What's the plan?"
<Targo> "I was going to knock you out, but, happily, that seems unecessary. Before we get to business, though, who's stuck in the brig?"
<El-Cideon> "Some scientist," she says, finally lowering her rifle. "She was on a ship we raided back in Coleille. I don't really know what her deal is, but Kartch thought she might be important. There's also Randal, who we want to keep in the brig."
<Targo> "We do?"
<El-Cideon> "He's one of ours. Kartch has him sit in a cell whenever someone new comes aboard. Just in case some of the new blood have an attack of altruism."
<Targo> "I expected you to tell me he was a madman."
<El-Cideon> "I'd say he is for sitting in the brig of his own volition. But no, he's just a plant. You're not the first government agents to try sneaking in here."
<Targo> "Aha. Can he get out the brig by himself?"
<El-Cideon> "Yep. Got a tiny transmitter that can shut down the energy field keeping the cells secure. Frankly, I think we should just shoot him."
<Targo> "They'll hear," replies Targo, snorting. "We're going to blow up the lift, anyway, so he won't be going anywhere." He lifts his communicator. "Will, do you read? Reina is our friend for real, now. What's your status?"
<Wilhelmina> "Ready on my end," she responds. "I'll go collect Avram."
<Targo> "
<Targo> "Alright. Send him to the infirmary as planned," replies Targo, clicking off. "Your engineer should be on his way," he remarks, pulling his gun and pointing it at the door.
<El-Cideon> She nods. "Right."
* Wilhelmina places the explosives into a backpack, after setting the timers on all four charges to five minutes from now. She hands it to Forrest, informing him of the time they have. "I should return with time to spare and set them myself," Wilhelmina says, "but if things change, just use them as is." With that, she goes to the engine room, looking upset.
<El-Cideon> Unfortunately, there's someone else in the hall behind Wil as soon as she leaves her room. She can hear the soft click of a rifle being set to autofire and the tread of heavy boots approaching. "'Once we get the signal from Targo, I'll set the timers,'" someone echoes. "'Don't be there when they go off.' Sage advice," Stigma says. "Tell me who you're working for and perhaps we won't have any trouble."
<Wilhelmina> "The highest bidder," she states matter of factly. "Explosives must also be involved in some fashion." Her own rifle is in her hand.
* Forrest flicks his com on so Targo can hear all of what's transpiring here.
<El-Cideon> "Clarify the identity of the highest bidder, please," he says softly. "This is not a game. And your friend only has a few minutes before the timer runs out on those charges, no? I assure you it's better for both of us if that doesn't happen."
<Targo> "Change of plan," remarks Targo, after raising an ear to his commlink. He starts towards the door, looking irritated. "What can you tell me about Stigma?"
<Wilhelmina> "He can take it," Wilhelmina says, not sounding particularly worried. She slowly turns to face Stigma, not making any threatening moves. "Since you're here alone," she continues, her voice equally low, "does that mean that you're either interested in what we have to offer, or working for someone else as well?"
* taislp is now known as taigrav
<El-Cideon> "My services are spoken for," he says dryly. "Please answer the question. Neither of us has time to waste."
<Wilhelmina> "The UES. If that causes you to shoot me, go ahead. I must warn you that I will shoot back."
<El-Cideon> "Not much," Reina says. "He joined up in Coleille, after we lost the doc and a couple others on a raid. Kartch is usually paranoid, but took to him real fast. Shouldn't be hard to get why. You saw his shooting down on Ouna."
<Targo> "You didn't see ours," replies Targo, heading for the lift. "He must be another plant, or he would've already raised the alarm. You're really sitting on something special."
<El-Cideon> Stigma doesn't shoot. "Then we share interests, if not employers." He doesn't put away his gun, but he does back off. "And I can only hope you lot shoot better when you actually aim."
<Wilhelmina> "They were faking it for some stupid reason," Wilhelmina says, before waving Forrest to move out. "If I proceed with my plan, will you shoot me?"
<El-Cideon> "No," he says, allowing Forrest to join them. "I won't have a better opportunity to complete my mission. Do what you must."
* Forrest pokes his head out of the door after Wil, looking somewhat perturbed. "Does everyone on this ship have an angle?" he mutters under his breath.
<Wilhelmina> "I don't care," she states, and marches off to fetch Avram, looking even more put off than before.
<El-Cideon> "Not quite everyone, I suspect," Stigma deadpans, keeping an eye on the doors to the bridge and Frank/Bruce's room. As for the engineer, he's sitting on a cot looking at a datapad when Wil enters. Various tools are scattered around him, and an access panel next to the engine block has been removed as if he was just working on something inside.
<Wilhelmina> "Busy?"
<El-Cideon> "Always," he says. "Is something the matter?"
<Wilhelmina> "That bitch who must not be named is giving the guy who pays me money trouble. Can you do something about her? I tried, but my finger kept twitching towards the trigger and he asked me to leave and get someone else."
<El-Cideon> Avram looks perplexed. "Why ask me? Arsenic only listens to the big K's. Check with the bridge?"
<Wilhelmina> "Really? I'll do that, then."
<El-Cideon> He nods, and goes back to his work.
* Forrest idly checks the time.
* Wilhelmina returns to Bruce and Frank's room, and places the explosives so that they would all detonate indoors and shred anything within.
<El-Cideon> "So much for the subtle approach," Stigma observes as Wil sets the charges.
<Forrest> "Subtle went out the window a while back," Forrest mutters as he readies his rifle, now resigned entirely to playing this by ear.
<El-Cideon> Stigma hangs back with Forrest, not wanting to be in the blast radius.
<Targo> "I don't mind now that we're the ones doing the outnumbering," snorts Targo back over the comm, just before emerging from the lift.
<Wilhelmina> "I don't want to go into that room," she tells him quietly, and gets her computer and flamethrower, signaling Targo to rejoin them afterwards. She wants to approach the door to the bridge with twenty seconds to spare, so that she'd have time enough to get it opened if need be.
* Targo moves to take cover in the larger quarters just next to the door into the bridge, gesturing for Reina to move to the opposite position.
<El-Cideon> OOC: The big room is the captain's quarters. There is actually an electronic lock on this door. There is no lock on the one opposite it, though.
<Targo> OOC: Ah. Then I'll hide in the next one along my side.
* Wilhelmina tries to open the door to the bridge!
<El-Cideon> OOC: Sure. That's actually Stigma's room, but he doesn't seem to mind opening it for you.
<El-Cideon> The door to the bridge is locked right now. A numerical keycode is required. That or the ability to deactivate the lock!
<El-Cideon> Wil goes to work on the lock and gets it open with a scant eighteen seconds left on the clock! It's obvious someone's been messing with the device, but hey, they don't need to worry about that for much longer. Karma is sitting at the pilot's seat inside the bridge, while Kartch whirls around at the sound of the door sliding open. "What the--I locked that!"
* Wilhelmina lunges for the commander's post, crouching behind it as Frederica is finally about to get her debut in space!
<Forrest> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+10 and gets 21."12 [1d20=11]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+4 Karma
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+12
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+4 Karma and gets 12."12 [1d20=8]
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+12 and gets 28."12 [1d20=16]
<Targo> roll 1d20+6 one day, it will be Targo who goes first!
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+6 one day, it will be Targo who goes first! and gets 23."12 [1d20=17]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+12 Kartch
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+12 Kartch and gets 20."12 [1d20=8]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+12 Stigma
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+12 Stigma and gets 28."12 [1d20=16]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+11 Reina
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+11 Reina and gets 14."12 [1d20=3]
* Retrieving #dunes modes...
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil > Stigma > Targo > Forrest > Kartch > Reina > Karma'
<El-Cideon> OOC: Your move, Wil.
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil > Stigma > Targo > Forrest > Kartch > Reina > Karma (18 seconds 'til kaboom)'
* Wilhelmina takes careful, steady aim at the pirate leaders' heads, and releases a punishing wave of flame from Frederica's nozzle!
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+11+1d6
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+11+1d6 and gets 23."12 [1d20=11][1d6=1]
<Wilhelmina> roll 4d6+6
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 4d6+6 and gets 16."12 [4d6=2, 4, 1, 3]
<El-Cideon> Flame engulfs the bridge! The psychic is thoroughly doused with molten fire, though her captain manages to duck the worst of the conflagration! Meanwhile, Stigma moves up the hall behind Wil, not able to get into a good position to aim past Wil just yet.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Targo
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil > Stigma > Targo > Forrest > Kartch > Reina > Karma (C-1)  (18 seconds 'til kaboom)'
<Targo> Targo is willing to help put the psychic out of her misery, and he slips around his corner and fires a shot of his own towards her!
<Targo> roll 1d20+8 (9 if pb)
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+8 (9 if pb) and gets 14."12 [1d20=6]
<Targo> roll 3d8+3 ahaha I bet that missed though
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 3d8+3 ahaha I bet that missed though and gets 17."12 [3d8=4, 2, 8]
<El-Cideon> OOC: You did miss! Forrest, you're up.
* Forrest takes aim at Karma as he stands in the middle of the hallway, intending to perforate her head with superheated plasma!
<Forrest> roll 1d20+8+1d6 force point
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+8+1d6 force point and gets 23."12 [1d20=10][1d6=5]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+14 reaction
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+14 reaction and gets 34."12 [1d20=20]
<Forrest> roll 3d10+4
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 3d10+4 and gets 20."12 [3d10=3, 7, 6]
<El-Cideon> Despite being totally immersed in flames, Karma raises a hand towards her attacker and a smooth wall of force redirects Forrest's bolt into the ceiling, sparing the psychic from any damage!
<El-Cideon> Kartch draws his gun and immediately pulls off two quick shots at Wil, moving behind the pilot's console for cover afterwards!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+9 Rapid Shot
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+9 Rapid Shot and gets 12."12 [1d20=3]
<El-Cideon> Reina moves up next to the door and takes a shot with her rifle, aiming for the psychic!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+9
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+9 and gets 14."12 [1d20=5]
<El-Cideon> Karma moves around the pilot's console to join her captain in having some cover. She gazes at Wil wistfully, a curious expression on her serene features in spite of her burning alive! "Oh Wil, it's not nice to play with fire. Think of what would happen if it turned on you..."
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+14 MIND TRICK
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+14 MIND TRICK and gets 30."12 [1d20=16]
<Wilhelmina> An expression of utter horror appears on Wilhelmina's face, as Frederica's nozzle drops from her listless fingers!
<El-Cideon> Terror grips Wil as all watch, her will to fight presently lost! Meanwhile, noises can be heard from down the hall. Frank and Bruce have heard the firefight--but their door won't open all the way. Something's stuck on it and keeping it from sliding into the wall...Also, the Black Wind's fire safety system kicks in, dousing everyone on the bridge with water!
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil (Terror) > Stigma > Targo > Forrest > Kartch > Reina > Karma (C-1)  (12 seconds 'til kaboom)'
<El-Cideon> OOC: Wil.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+5 fort check
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+5 fort check and gets 6."12 [1d20=1]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+5 fort check
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+5 fort check and gets 24."12 [1d20=19]
* Wilhelmina flees for the safest spot on the ship she can think of -- engineering!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6 Kartch fire damage
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6 Kartch fire damage and gets 3."12 [1d6=3]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d3 Karma fire damage
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d3 Karma fire damage and gets 1."12 [1d3=1]
<El-Cideon> Stigma doesn't take time for battle cries or platitudes as he takes aim at his former captain. He just unleashes a hail of death on Kartch and Karms both!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+10 autofire
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+10 autofire and gets 16."12 [1d20=6]
<El-Cideon> roll 3d10+5 half damage to both
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 3d10+5 half damage to both and gets 24."12 [3d10=8, 6, 5]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Targo.
<Targo> "Get it together, Wil! I'm not paying you to run!" growls Targo into his microphone, squeezing off another shot towards his hated adversary!
<Targo> roll 1d20+9
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+9 and gets 15."12 [1d20=6]
<Wilhelmina> "A world without fire! NOOOO!!!!"
<Targo> He ducks behind the side of the wall again, wondering if walls could even protect against that kind of influence.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Forrest
<Forrest> "Dammit, that just ain't fair!" Forrest complains bitterly as his shot is redirected, moving into the bridge to get a clear shot around their cover and unleashing a fusillade of plasma at team doubleK.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+2 autofire
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+2 autofire and gets 6."12 [1d20=4]
<Forrest> roll 3d10+4 halved
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 3d10+4 halved and gets 22."12 [3d10=10, 7, 1]
<El-Cideon> Kartch rises for another shot, taking careful aim this time as he trains his gun on Forrest!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+11
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+11 and gets 27."12 [1d20=16]
<El-Cideon> roll 4d8+5 Deadeye
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 4d8+5 Deadeye and gets 23."12 [4d8=4, 5, 1, 8]
<Forrest> "Ow! Sunnuva!" Forrest curses and jerks back where he was shot.
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil (Terror) > Stigma > Targo > Forrest (C-1) > Kartch > Reina > Karma (C-1)  (12 seconds 'til kaboom)'
<El-Cideon> "Give it up, Kartch!" Reina shouts. "You're outnumbered!" She flips her gun to autofire and opens up on the pilot's console.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+4 autofire
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+4 autofire and gets 7."12 [1d20=3]
<El-Cideon> roll 3d10+4 damage to be halved for both
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 3d10+4 damage to be halved for both and gets 19."12 [3d10=3, 8, 4]
<El-Cideon> Kartch's body dances in the air as he's riddled by a barrage of bullets. He's still standing, but it's clear he won't last much longer. Karma, meanwhile, stands up in the wake of the barrage, seems to steady herself for a moment, then gestures dramatically at Reina! "I wonder, dear, are you already literally in bed with the enemy?"
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+14 Force Stun
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+14 Force Stun and gets 20."12 [1d20=6]
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil (Terror) > Stigma > Targo > Forrest (C-1) > Kartch > Reina (C-2) > Karma (C-1)  (12 seconds 'til kaboom)'
<El-Cideon> OOC: Wil. Have fun running around!
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil (Terror) > Stigma > Targo > Forrest (C-1) > Kartch > Reina (C-2) > Karma (C-1)  (6 seconds 'til kaboom)'
<El-Cideon> Stigma unloads another round at Kartch and Karma while Wil flees in terror!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+10 autofire
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+10 autofire and gets 15."12 [1d20=5]
<El-Cideon> roll 3d10+5 to be halved
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 3d10+5 to be halved and gets 28."12 [3d10=9, 4, 10]
<El-Cideon> This volley puts Kartch down for good, singed and shot full of holes, and Karma looks like she won't last much longer, either. She remains resolute as always, though!
<El-Cideon> OOC: Targo
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil (Terror) > Stigma > Targo > Forrest (C-1) > Reina (C-2) > Karma (C-1)  (6 seconds 'til kaboom)'
<Targo> Targo vaults from around the door and rushes towards Karma, intending on holding her up almost at point-blank range! "Block this," he growls, pulling the trigger, with all his strength!
<Targo> roll 1d20+9+1d6 I can't make shooting a gun look cool
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+9+1d6 I can't make shooting a gun look cool and gets 27."12 [1d20=14][1d6=4]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Hit
<Targo> roll 3d8+4
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 3d8+4 and gets 12."12 [3d8=2, 3, 3]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Forrest
<Forrest> "Urgh... dammit, Targo," Forrest complains as he runs into his field of fire, flipping his gun to single shot and carefully aiming at Karma to take her down without wounding Targo.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+7+1d6 force point
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+7+1d6 force point and gets 20."12 [1d20=8][1d6=5]
<Forrest> roll 4d10+4
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 4d10+4 and gets 30."12 [4d10=9, 9, 3, 5]
<El-Cideon> A terrific shot striks Karma full in the chest and knocks her backwards, sending her sprawling over her prone captain! The battle seems to be over--well, except for one thing...
<Wilhelmina> roll 28d6 glee, boxed fire~
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 28d6 glee, boxed fire~ and gets 106."12 [28d6=2, 6, 6, 6, 4, 5, 6, 4, 1, 1, 6, 6, 3, 4, 4, 5, 4, 1, 5, 5, 1, 2, 2, 2, 6, 4, 2, 3]
<El-Cideon> Wil's stack of explosives finally detonates, tearing the door to Frank and Bruce's room to shreds! And, not coincidentally, both of them, since they were right in front of it trying to bash it open at the time.
<Targo> After the debris settles from the explosion, Targo clambers through the wreckage of the corridor and the crew quarters to find Wil, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. "Wil! There was fire. There was lots of fire," he says, urgently shaking her back and forth.
* Wilhelmina seems to relax at those blissful words. "Really?"
<Targo> "Really. You need to fly the ship. Can you fly the ship?"
* Forrest takes a moment to catch his breath and work the kink out of his arm after being shot. "Everyone okay?" he asks, a bit leery of their current 'allies'.
<Wilhelmina> "The ship can be flown."
<El-Cideon> Frank and Bruce are giblets, the fire safety system is running again thanks to Wil's explosives, and the ship is basically yours for the taking. Stigma seems perfectly fine, totally unbothered by being shot at or shooting down his former boss, though Reina's looking a little frazzled.
<El-Cideon> There's no sign of the engineer, though.
<Wilhelmina> "Psychics... are evil."
<Targo> "Good. You will fly the ship," he instructs. "Reina, Stigma, Forrest? I can treat you if you want- no, I'll actually do it properly this time, don't worry." He pauses, and glances at the man. "What are you here for, and where'd the damn engineer go? You got that sensor kit in your room, Forrest?"
<Forrest> Forrest ambles into the trashed corridor and into the room they were using, setting up the sensor dish and having a look. "Doesn't the ship have internals for this?"
<Forrest> roll 1d20+19
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+19 and gets 30."12 [1d20=11]
<Wilhelmina> "Was here just before," Wilhelmina mutters. "I'll handle the bridge, someone should stay here and ensure nothing enters engineering."
* Targo checks the lift!
* Wilhelmina departs for the bridge herself, to interface her computer with the ship's.
<El-Cideon> "I'm here for the same reason you are, if I've read you correctly. And if it's all the same, I'll hold off on medical attention until we've reached a port somewhere."
<El-Cideon> For her part, Reina seems glad to just sit down somewhere for a minute. "I'm fine. Just kind of...dizzy."
<Forrest> "Avram's in the engine room," Forrest reports into the comlink. "Back corner, lower right."
* Targo wanders in there after him!
<El-Cideon> The bridge is pretty damn trashed, but should be usable with some minor repairs. All the consoles are still activated from when Kartch and Karma were using them, no special access needed at this point. As for the pirate leaders...they look alive despite everything, though just barely.
<Wilhelmina> Do they look conscious?
<El-Cideon> No. Hell no.
* Wilhelmina will set them on fire later, when they can appreciate it. For now, she integrates her personal computer to the ship's, checking sensors both internal and external.
<El-Cideon> Avram's hiding in a corner, though "hiding" is perhaps not the right word given that there's no real cover in here. Just the open access panel in wall down near the floor. Avram's holding a fire extinguisher, and radiating nervousness. "What happened?" he says. "I heard explosions."
<Targo> "Employment changeover. You're working for me now. Any questions?"
<El-Cideon> "Oh, sure," he says, nodding. "My only question is--" Then he unloads the fire extinguisher, totally obscuring visuals within the room. You can hear him scrambling into the access panel.
<El-Cideon> As for the ship's sensors, they say that two people are still in the brig, though one of the cell's energy fields has been deactivated.
<Wilhelmina> "Someone's getting out of the bridge," Wilhelmina reports on their private, secure communications network. "I'm cleaning up the bridge. Need anything?"
<Targo> roll 1d20+9
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+9 and gets 17."12 [1d20=8]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Miss.
<Targo> roll 3d8+4
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 3d8+4 and gets 15."12 [3d8=2, 1, 8]
<El-Cideon> Targo's point blank shot zings by the engineer's head and scorches the wall. Meanwhile, Avram makes his getaway into the ship's innards!
* Wilhelmina gets Roberta and cheerfully presses the barrel to the nasty evil psychic's head, discharging the weapon. She does the same to Kartch as well a moment afterwards, humming to herself.
<El-Cideon> They're not getting up again after that.
* Targo pulls his trigger reflexively, before cursing and diving in afterwards. "If you trash this ship, you'll doom us all!" he snaps, crawling after him and drawing a knife!
* Forrest tries to locate whomever escaped the brig on his sensor dish.
* Wilhelmina is immensely cheered up by the thought, before returning to the pilot's seat and interfacing with Forrest's equipment wirelessly. Between the two of them, finding and eliminating any resistance should be easy.
<Targo> "Will, interface with the ship's core! See where that bastard is going, and for fucks sake tell me if he's going to vent the atmosphere," growls Targo into his comm unit.
<El-Cideon> The man in the brig isn't trying to hide. He's actually not really moving around. Soon enough, he calls up the bridge. "This is Randal," a man's voice starts, "Kartch, what the hell happened up there?
* Wilhelmina checks first whether the cell Randal is in can be sealed off from the bridge. And if not, whether the entire cell block could be.
<El-Cideon> Wil can easily change the access code for the door to the brig itself from where she is.
<Wilhelmina> "Already happening," she responds to Targo in the meantime, hoping that Forrest can handle that part with her help.
* Wilhelmina changes the access codes to something even she wouldn't be able to casually remember, before locking the place shut.
<El-Cideon> From down the access tunnel, Avram yells at Targo. "I've got a gun pointed right at the power flux matrix here. I suggest you stop right where you are."
<Targo> "You ignorant idiot! I don't care about what happens to you," snorts Targo. "We've already got what we want. Don't cause any trouble and we'll let you go."
<El-Cideon> OOC: Roll for intimidate if you want?
* Wilhelmina decides to shut down the engine altogether at those words, if Targo can't make the fool see reason. She makes all the preparations, ready to flip the switch should negotiations fail, and informs Targo of that fact as she goes along.
<Targo> roll 1d20+16 oops didn't see the roll thing
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+16 oops didn't see the roll thing and gets 24."12 [1d20=8]
<El-Cideon> "Uh...er..." After a moment of terse indecision, Avram tosses a pistol down the passageway. "Okay..."
<Wilhelmina> "I guess there is no need to vent the atmosphere," Wilhelmina says, sounding sad.
<Targo> "Alright. Come out," replies Targo, taking the pistol and pulling himself back out. "Wait, you were planning on venting the atmosphere?" he mutters back. "Anyway. I'll hit up our contact. You guys put this guy in the brig, and... check out what was in the pharmacy."
<Wilhelmina> "I was certainly going to make it seem that way. And I wouldn't go for the brig; I locked the entire section since someone got out of his cell."
<El-Cideon> Avram inches his way out of the passageway, hands raised. He doesn't like anything about this situation, but he's clearly not going to put up a fight.
<Targo> "We'll open it up and toss the engineer in, and pull their real captive out."
<Targo> "What's he going to do? It's five against one."
<Wilhelmina> "Say when! My finger is on the atmosphere-venting switch!" Wilhelmina responds, sounding cheerful.
<El-Cideon> ---

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> Indeed, Randal proves far from eager to start a fight when he sees Reina and Stigma's guns staring him down in addition to Targo. A careful search produces the tiny device he'd used to negate the cell's energy field; Reina promptly smashes this. Then Randal goes back in the cell, for good this time!
<El-Cideon> ---

The Black Wind's captive is a black woman who looks to be in her thirties somewhere (though that could mean anything these days). Almost ebon-dark skin tone and aquiline features suggest east-African ancestry, though she speaks with the diction and vocabulary of someone coming out of a prestigious European academy. Long hair is worked into dreads which themselves are done up into an elaborate knot at the back of her head. Her complexion is flawless and she's wearing a stylishly minimalist black and white dress; she's probably used to high-living, whoever she is.

It takes some persuasion to get her to cooperate, given that you have two of the Black Wind's crew working with you still, but the corpses of the lead pirates prove quite convincing. (Though she clearly doesn't encounter dead bodies in her normal line of work, she gets over the shock with impressive speed). She gives her name as Rana Highgate-Rasmussen, out of Artoria with a cargo bound for Coleille. She doesn't seem eager to volunteer anything else until she knows exactly who she's dealing with.

[Carthrat]

Targo briefly outlines their job on the ship; they they're here to rescue both her and an item, having been contracted by an agent from the UES. He's curious to know what is was they were after, since they're supposed to find it and hand it over to their contact. It shouldn't take much to assure the woman that he's safe with them for the time being.

[Sierra]

Rana proves reluctant to talk about the stolen cargo given its experimental nature, stating that you would've been told about the device if it was necessary for the success of your mission. She will, however, speculate that it's stored in the locked storage room she noticed across the cargo bay, as this seems like the most secure location on the ship from what she heard while held prisoner there. Direct the UES agent to that and they'll likely find what they're after.

[Corwin]

[Carthrat]

Targo points out to her that we were ordered to deliver the item and the criminals, whilst the ship itself now effectively belongs to them. Furthermore, he has reason to suspect multiple agencies within the UES have an interest in it.

It is quite clear to him that he is getting involved in something rather momentous, and knowing exactly what he's dealing with will help prevent him getting in trouble in the future! Given that he got shot at and his friends got mindraped to deal with this, he deserves some explanation.

(And he says all this when the others, i.e. stigma/reina/whoever aren't around to hear, natch.)

[Sierra]

Rana looks skeptical but at least gives you this much:

"Oh, you're right enough about the UES being interested in what we were taking to Coleille. They cofunded the project, so they should know all about it. And if you ask me, someone told these yahoos what we were carrying," she adds sourly, gesturing to the Black Wind in general. "Somewhere in their chain of command, they've got a leak.

"Now, I'm not the project lead, so I don't know everything. But I can speculate about plenty. We were traveling with components for gate mechanisms. The availability of that kind of machinery is highly restricted, sure, and hijacking a ship full of it is cheaper in the short run than navigating through the red tape, but the UES doesn't take kindly to anyone infringing on its monopoly over interstellar travel. I don't see any corporate magnate risking this kind of trouble just to set up his own pirate gate somewhere. Unless you've got the means to stand up to Earth's finest when they come knocking, it's not worth the trouble. This wasn't about run-of-the-mill gate parts. Because this set was modified.

"That's where I come in. The UES and Chronos--it's a joint venture; Chronos has always coordinated closely with the government--wanted a program that could keep track of planck-scale spacial disturbances, on an ongoing basis, throughout colonized space. But it's in the nature of quantum mechanics to be unpredictable, moreso when you're punching holes in the space-time continuum. A collection of subroutines wouldn't be enough to do the job. What was needed was intuition, and you can't really program for that. A computer program can only be so unreasonable given that even the simplest of them is grounded in rules, routines, consistency. The project needed something capable of making instinctive leaps, something almost mystically attuned to the vagaries of particle physics. Broadly speaking, this means artificial intelligence. The UES being what it is, they wanted as little 'I' in the 'AI' as they could get away with. Nothing that could ask questions, ponder the meaning of its own existence--ideally something that would hum along mindlessly as it went about tremendously complicated tasks with a minimum of human interference. This isn't as easy as it sounds. A lot of what we call instinct or intuition is the product of surprisingly complex mental processes.

"I don't know how closely you follow technology, but humans have held an irrational fear of machines since the early days of humanoid constructs, when sci-fi writers promulgated horror stories of robots replacing humans on the factory floor. Truly adaptive AI has never stopped being a villain in the public imagination. Some systems even make you apply for a permit before you can install one on your household network." She sounds disgusted at this, as though she were talking about cannibals. "A lot of what we call AI actually isn't at all. That custodian program monitoring the temperature in your house may be designed to talk like it knows you, but it's just an act. It's a set of routine tasks shorn of consciousness and personality." She stops for a moment, and shrugs. "But that's a tirade for another time. The point is, from any traditional perspective, designing something that could do what the UES and Chronos want is practically impossible. Fortunately, I am proud to consider myself an untraditional person. What can't be designed may be grown.

"But I won't bore you with trade secrets. Savant was the result, and the regulator unit of the gate core sitting in this ship's storage closet is hardwired with it. So far, Savant can run a model gate system all on its own, opening and closing the portal at will with no adverse effects on nearby space and even redirecting the destination of the wormhole provided the gate on the other side shares the same programming. That's never been possible before and I'm sure you can imagine how it would change the dynamic of an interstellar society with Earth as its hub. Simply stated, there wouldn't be a hub any more, and a lot of people in high places back on Earth don't like that idea. My guess is, they'll make sure it works, file the necessary patents, and keep it under wraps forever. I mean, this is the holy grail of interstellar travel." She smirks. "They couldn't let someone else build it first.

"Chronos will probably undertake formal testing in some remote system once they have this prototype. Practically speaking, my part's done once this is delivered."

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> ---
<El-Cideon> In the aftermath of the mutiny, Lagoon Company goes about tidying up the (their!) ship. Avram and Randal are tossed in the brig, neither of them being very cooperative, as is the still unconscious Arsenic. The bridge turns out to be in need of some repairs after all the shooting, but this is easily done by Wil now that the team has time to spare. (more)
<El-Cideon> The members of Lagoon Company find themselves gathered on the bridge in preparation for turning over their charges to the goernment.
<Targo> "We need a name," insists Targo. "We sure aren't keeping 'Black Wind', that's the name of people with no sense of style."
* Wilhelmina nods her assent to that.
<Forrest> "Free Bird?" Forrest suggests hopefully.
<Targo> "I'm counting on you, Wil."
<Wilhelmina> "Something with a falcon?"
<Targo> "Falcon's Eye, maybe? Now that'd make for good PR," considers Targo, imagining a holovid that features an angry, angry bird of prey staring down at unfortunate criminals..
* Forrest grumbles. "Why not just call it Pond Ship. Fit with the same theme as Lagoon Company..."
* Wilhelmina glares at Forrest. "Is there anything wrong with the company name?"
<Forrest> "What does it even mean?" Forrest protests.
<Targo> "Wasn't it something to do with one of those ancient movies?"
<Wilhelmina> "A shallow body of water which is cut off from the sea by sand dunes," Wilhelmina recites. "There was a very famous lagoon that featured as a key element of a series of books. They even had a movie made based on them, back in the day. In short, it's a classic."
<Targo> "So there you go. There's an obvious link between than and the security business," agrees Targo, nodding. "Wait, what?"
<Wilhelmina> "It is a very deceptive name that lowers one's defenses, which we then utilize to strike."
<Forrest> "I could have told you it didn't mean anything, but no - I just show up one day and find out you've already ordered stationary," Forrest continues to complain.
<Targo> "It was part of her contract," mutters Targo, irritably. "I was sick of bardiving for recruits, alright? I thought a woman would offer a civilizing presence, too..." He drops his head in his hands. "God, how drunk was I?"
<Wilhelmina> "I could still vent the atmosphere with just one word."
<Targo> "At least six shots of Sudoulese brainkillers, I'll bet. Whatever! Fine! Call it the Pond Falcon for all I care! That's a name that will certainly strike *something* into our enemies!"
<Forrest> "How about Alabama?" Forrest suggests eagerly. "Name of the ship that fired the first shots in World War 3. That counts for something, right?"
<Wilhelmina> "Just the Falcon would do," Wilhelmina says with a frown. "He is too eager. It must be a name with a deep redneck connection."
<Targo> "What is that, Earth slang?"
<Wilhelmina> "Yes."
<Targo> "What does it mean?"
<Forrest> "Mars. Red Planet," Forrest shrugs.
* Wilhelmina points at Forrest. "People like him."
<Targo> "I see." Targo pauses, and then shrugs, irritated mood forgotten. "Well, Falcon is fine with me. It's dignified, in a way."
* Wilhelmina nods.
<Forrest> "I guess I c'n live with it," Forrest shrugs again.
<Targo> "If you want, you can pick a name for the van?" offers Targo, stepping towards the door. "I'm just going to have a quick word with the scientist lady. Back in five."
<Wilhelmina> "About?"
<Targo> "Her field intrigues me and I am contemplating investment."
<Wilhelmina> "Field?"
<Targo> "She's into some kind of artifical intelligence. I'm not sure on the details, but have you ever heard of someone 'growing' a computer before?"
<Wilhelmina> "I am now also interested. Let's go."
<El-Cideon> Rana is making use of the Black Wind's (er, Falcon's) store of alcoholic beverages on the upper deck at the moment. She seems more at ease with Lagoon Company around than with Reina and Stigma, who she's still wary of (and who were in crew quarters the last time you saw them).
* Targo starts heading towards the quarters assigned to Rana, spinning a coin around on his fingertips.
* Wilhelmina is quite confident anything short of an emergency situation could be done from her portable terminal, and is confident enough to leave the ship on autopilot, following.
<Targo> "Miss... Highgate! In good spirits, I see. Very good ones," commends Targo, deciding to have some himself. "I'm curious as to your plans once we make landfall."
<El-Cideon> "Highgate-Rasmussen," she corrects (not sounding put out or anything, just as though correcting people is obligatory). "Double surname. It's a Dutch thing. Just Rana will do. My plans are to unload this hot potato on Chronos and then get back to my own work. Why do you ask?"
<Targo> "I'm curious about your own work," elaborates Targo. "It's in artificial intelligence, right? Are you affiliated with any particular corp?"
<El-Cideon> She shakes her head, and sips demurely at some red wine she managed to find amidst the ship's wide selection of hard liquor. "No, I'm not on anyone's payroll, usually. I came into a substantial inheritance some time ago and am mostly able to pursue my research independantly."
<Targo> "Huh. But you led a project team for the UES and Chronos just now, right?" asks Targo, musing. "Why did they come to you? They don't usually need to headhunt so specifically, so correct me if I'm wrong- but are you famous?"
<El-Cideon> "Among scientists, perhaps. Which means that maybe a hundredth of a percent of the general population knows about me, but I'll spare you a rant on popular tastes or the lack thereof."
<Wilhelmina> "Of course she is!" Wilhelmina interjects. "Her work on AI is inspirational!"
<El-Cideon> This provokes a mildly embarassed chuckle. Rana seems totally unbothered by Wil's appearance; you could be led to think she just doesn't care or doesn't even notice the scars. "Well, your friend's well-read," she says to Targo.
<Targo> "Please don't tell me what it inspired you to create," mutters Targo, glancing sidelong at Wil. "Anyway, this.. device that you've created is an instinctual AI, right? But is it limited in purview? That is to say, is it good for just gate manipulation, or could you reapply the theory to other fields?"
<Wilhelmina> "It sounds like the limitation was the difficult part, here," Wilhelmina notes, sounding unusually curious. "Would that be right?"
<El-Cideon> "I could and I have, though usually not for something as complicated as what the UES wanted. AI itself is my particular interest, not for specific industrial applications but for its own sake." She nods to Wil. "They wanted something that was almost preternaturally prescient, yet dumb as a rock. Imposing low-intelligence stipulations on a developing program isn't usually my goal."
<Targo> "Hmm. Well. Ever thought of moving to Wellington?"
<El-Cideon> A spirited laugh! "Is that a proposal? I'm grateful for your help and I do owe you something for getting me out of here, but I like it on Artoria, thanks."
* Wilhelmina frowns. "I've always been disappointed that you never expressed interest in creating artificial intelligence that could operate a starship on its own as well as a human pilot."
<El-Cideon> A shrug. "Well--Wilhelmina, is it? As I said, I'm interested in artificial intelligence for its own sake. A sentient computer is the closest thing we have to alien intelligence, and I'm sure I don't need to explain why that intrigues people. Programming something to mimic a human would defeat the purpose. Besides, I can leave the starship programming to the military contractors, thanks."
<Targo> "Would you consider a sentient computer to require a purpose, by default?" asks Targo, curiously. "Or could you design one to be- hmm. 'Natural', I suppose. You really do need to start with a goal in mind, it seems to me."
<Wilhelmina> "They'll never really do anything with it. They certainly had the time and the means so far."
<El-Cideon> "That's teleology, Mr. Silver. Evolution doesn't design organisms with a purpose in mind. It merely shapes them to fit circumstances. 'Natural' AI *is* my goal. Though you are correct in that certain guiding principles must be established."
<Targo> "Survival drives evolution, right? The thing that survives flourishes, that which doesn't dies out. When it comes to AI, wouldn't survival hinge entirely on a human flicking an off switch or not?"
<El-Cideon> "If we're talking about commercial software, sure. Fortunately, I'm privileged enough to not be reliant on the whims of the marketplace. Anyway, I do use natural selection as a model for program development, but as you've demonstrated, there are shortcomings to taking this too literally. Call me a hypocrite if you like, but even I'm not going to put my fate in the hands of a program I can't reasonably control."
<Targo> "Oh, not at all. I'm curious to know about how you'd put programs in a... digital wildlife, I suppose you could call it- but this will, sadly, have to wait for another time. Targo does seem quite sad, but he starts heading for the elevator. "Still, I'd be very interested to chat more about this later. Perhaps you could forward me updates on your work in the future, if it's all the same to you."
<El-Cideon> "Certainly. You're welcome to stop by my lab any time you're on Artoria. Rembrandt Arcology. As I said, I owe you. "
<El-Cideon> ~
<El-Cideon> Flying back towards Wellington, the Falcon is soon within easy communication range of the planet itself. Lorna had specified that Targo call in the mission outcome on a private channel she'd secured at Victory Station.
* Wilhelmina easily provides the link, connecting Targo.
<Targo> Targo takes a seat at the bridge's communications station, and quickly begins arranging the transmission. But not quickly enough.
<El-Cideon> Lorna answers promptly, like she'd been waiting for an answer. Does she not sleep or something?
<Targo> Government agents. Who knows what horus they keep? "Job's done. We put Karma and Kartch away, but we've got Arsenic ready for you. Need a favour from you, too."
<El-Cideon> "Oh? What is it?" she seems both unsurprised and undisturbed by this request.
<Targo> "A clean ID. Is that possible? I can arrange for funds if necessary, but one of the crew turned her coat and was instrumental. I'd like to return the favor."
<El-Cideon> "I can expunge anything short of treason from her record, depending in part on where she's from. What system is she from?"
<Targo> "Esperitas. Travels a lot, obviously."
<El-Cideon> "That's good. The Esperitan government is more pliable than most. I'll take care of it, though it may take a couple days. I will have to take her into custody until her record's cleared, but I'll release her as soon as possible. I hope you understand. How much of the crew was taken alive?"
<Targo> "Three if you want. One if not."
<El-Cideon> "I'll take all three. I'm sure they all have criminal charges to answer to. Now, I'll call off the APB on the Black Wind and you can dock the ship at Victory Station. I'll meet you there. I'll have an armed escort, but I don't want you to be alarmed. They'll be there to take the pirates into custody and secure the ship, nothing more."
<Targo> "I have a question for you before that," adds Targo, frowning. "Were any other agents dispatched to retrieve the ship's contents?"
<El-Cideon> She's silent for a moment. "Yes, though he died before you were dispatched. We believe Kartch was informed of his true purpose, which is why we turned to an outside party--you--for our second attempt. Why do you ask?"
<Targo> "There's another man on this ship claiming to be a UES agent, who likewise aided us." Targo gives a brief description of Stigma, before shrugging. "Ring any bells? Seemed to have the same sort of plan we did- pose as a member and then strike at the right moment."
<Targo> *claiming to be an agent here for the same reason we are
<Targo> "We're not sure about exactly who he's working for."
<El-Cideon> "He's no one I'm familiar with. I'll take him in for questioning when you arrive. Is there anything else?"
<Targo> "Given this unexpected development, would you like us to ensure your item is secured, or leave it to your personel?"
<El-Cideon> "Do you know where it was on the ship? If so, I'd ask that you leave it where it is. It may be advisable to monitor this 'Stigma' person until you dock, of course."
<Targo> "Roughly. If you want. Adios, then."
<El-Cideon> "Of course. I'll see you shortly." She disconnects.
<Targo> "Make anything of this?" asks Targo, twisting his head back to face Wil.
* Wilhelmina is already checking on the locations of all the people aboard the Falcon at this time.
<Wilhelmina> "I always thought he was a Chronos man," she says in the meantime, shrugging. "Bureaucracies not communicating well in a crisis, imagine that."
<El-Cideon> The handy bugs Kartch put in all the crew quarters inform you that Stigma's not left the room since he entered it. There are some vaguely mechanical noises in his room, but since he knows about the bugs whatever he's doing probably isn't something he cares about anyone knowing. Reina's asleep in one of the empty rooms and the prisoners are all still in their cells.
<Wilhelmina> "He's probably molesting a robot or something."
<Targo> "I'm not so sure. Reina mentioned that Kartch had an unusual amount of trust for Stigma. Might not've just been because he can shoot well, given that we learned they'd already been tipped off on one agent before. Doesn't seem a stretch to think about who it might've been."
<Wilhelmina> "Could be psychic. Let the cops take him."
<Forrest> "And let's hope he doesn't shoot us?" Forrest speaks up. "I dunno. He helped us out, don't feel right just handin' him over like that."
<Targo> "If he's legit, then they'll let him go," replies Targo, shrugging.
<Wilhelmina> "Exactly. He claimed to be legitimate, so if they shoot or hold him, he only has himself to blame."
<Targo> "I'm more worried about him pulling a fast one on us. But hey, employers orders, right?" admits Targo. "Take us to the station now, I guess."
* Wilhelmina adjusts their course!
<El-Cideon> ~
<El-Cideon> A couple escort ships trail the Falcon as it approaches Victory, apparently just in case it decides to run or something, but neither takes any aggressive actions and the ship is able to dock without any trouble. Lagoon Company, Rana, and their apparent allies gather at the main deck exit in preparation for debarking. On the other side of the airlock, Lorna can be seen waiting, arms crossed, dressed austerely as always.(more)
<El-Cideon> She's flanked by half a dozen Planetary Defense Force officers on each side. They look ready for trouble, just in case. "Ah, a welcoming party," Stigma deadpans with a faint smile. "So much for my cover."
<Targo> "What cover was that?"
<El-Cideon> He shrugs. "I'm sure the agent outside will ask and I dislike repeating myself. Shall we go?"
<Targo> Targo triggers the door. "By all means."
<El-Cideon> Lorna calls for the soldiers to lower their arms once she recognizes Lagoon Company and the PDF goons promptly comply. "Welcome back to civilization, Mr. Silver. Such as it is. This is your mysterious accomplice?" she asks, gesturing to Stigma--who is obligingly handing over his weapons to the PDf soldiers and who answers for himself before anyone else can. (more)
<El-Cideon> "Bertram Edwards, ma'am, dispatched at the request of Arnold Shellack. He'll vouch for my presence here if you contact him."
* Forrest whistles softly at that announcement.
<Targo> "Why 'Stigma'?"
<Wilhelmina> "Why not?"
<El-Cideon> "It was appropriately pretentious," he says.
<Wilhelmina> "See?"
<El-Cideon> Lorna just nods at this declaration, looking a little irked to see someone taking independant action on a mission she'd set up. "I'll do that. Of course you understand that we'll have to hold you until we've verified your identity." He just nods at this. "And this your new friend, Mr. Silver?" Lorna says regarding Reina.
<Targo> "Mmhmm. We left the others in the brig," replies Targo, gesturing into the ship. "Passcode is... uh... long. Wil has it."
* Wilhelmina smirks. "It's actually 'I will never be free again in this life', only without the pauses. And in German."
* Forrest groans.
<El-Cideon> "Of course. I'll have a team retrieve them promptly," she says, and a batch of her flunkies boards the ship for this purpose. "I will also need time to have a team of technicians comb the Black Wind's databanks for anything pertaining to Kartch's contacts and previous travels. We'll need to hold the ship for a few days, but I assure you that you'll be notified as soon as we're done. As for you..." She turns to Reina. (more)
<El-Cideon> "You'll have to stay in our custody until we've cleared your record. It shouldn't take more than a couple days."
<Wilhelmina> "One of the rooms sort of exploded. You could fix that, right?"
<Targo> "About that," remarks Targo, glancing at Lorna. "We'll be staying on Victory Station for the time being, and there are no plans to go anywhere. Would it matter if she stayed with us for the interim?"
<El-Cideon> Lorna raises an eyebrow in curiosity, but doesn't ask questions. "Yes. Yes we can." To Targo: "If you'll consent to having a guard placed outside your room here. I need to be informed of her whereabouts at all times."
<Targo> "I don't mind that much," admits Targo.
<El-Cideon> A nod. "Very good. Is there anything else I should know about?" she asks, looking from one person to another.
* Forrest shrugs, not having much to add.
<Wilhelmina> "The bridge, it needs new upholstering."
<Targo> "Extend condolences to Ouna in my stead," mutters Targo, and he starts to walk away. "We'll be finding our rooms, now."
<El-Cideon> Lorna seems to know what this means. She turns away to deal with Rana and the men investigating the ship, leaving you to your own devices for now (though a pair of PDF officers keep an eye on you just to be sure of where you're going).
<El-Cideon> ~
<Targo> Later, on the same day, Targo is taking up residence in the lounge of a moderately expensive suite, and dials up Deliah on the places holoprojector.
<El-Cideon> Delilah answers after a long (annoyingly long) time spent waiting and listening to the hotel phone ring. It's probably still daytime down on Pendleton. "who said you could wake me up."
<Targo> "You did, when I hired you?" guesses Targo, with a smirk. "Get serious. I want to know if you dug up anything interesting."
<El-Cideon> "Right, right," she grumbles, going to work on her computer. Her antennalike tufts of hair aren't bound and stuck up right now, which actually makes her look worse than usual. "Okay...what did you want first, Chronos or de Lacey?"
<Targo> "Chronos."
<El-Cideon> "Right. Chronos Corporation, founded seventy-two years ago on Coleille by local polymath Arnold Shellack, currently a leading tech giant with divisions working in a wide variety of fields, yada yada yada..." She's silent a moment, fiddling with her computer. (more)
<El-Cideon> "They've got a stake in everything from gate construction to biotechnology. Always a big leader in life-extending medical treatments, for reasons which should be obvious if you recall what I said five seconds ago. The old man--emphasis on 'old'--still runs the joint and contributes to research. Impressive. Notoriously reclusive, not known to have left his own home in years."
<Targo> "So we've got an old eccentric on the one hand taking a very personal interest in what's going on. What about de Lacey/"
<El-Cideon> "Let's see...I don't remember how much I told you last time, so I'll start simple: fifty-one years old, never married, no children. Father deceased, unimaginably rich mother living on an orbital colony somewhere around Coleille, one sister, also deceased...Anyway, I called in a favor with someone in the guv'ment to check on her credentials. She is what she says she is." (more)
<El-Cideon> "Funny, I wouldn't really peg her for the kind of work she's doing given her background."
<Targo> "People have their reasons. Ten to one says it's got something to do with her dead relatives."
<El-Cideon> "Maybe. Rich as she is, she probably coulda done without working a day in her life if she didn't want to. I know I wouldn't."
<Targo> "Pride makes people work, even when they don't have to. Anyway, we've finished on our end. Everything seems legit, so I might've worried for nothing. I do that."
<El-Cideon> "Better than not worrying when you should have. Anything else? You guys gonna come back down planetside any time soon?"
<Targo> "Yeah. See you then."
<El-Cideon> *click* the transmission ends and Delilah undoubtedly returns to bed.
<El-Cideon> ~
<El-Cideon> Lorna drops by a few days later, to save Lagoon Company from the unpleasantness of lounging around at a comfortable orbital hotel. There's a clerk of some sort with her. "We're done with the ship," she starts. "Any necessary repairs have been made. A signal jammer Kartch used to wreak considerable havoc on the shipping lanes has been removed, but everything else about the ship is comfortably close to spec." (more)
<El-Cideon> "We've trawled the ship's database; communications and navigational records should give us a lead on where and who Kartch's contacts may have been, in the off chance that Arsenic can't be persuaded to talk. Thank you again for your assistance. Oh, and the diversion to Ouna? I'd be remiss in my duties if I didn't inquire as to whether you left the facility with any proprietary information."
<Targo> "Yes, some. We have it with us," remarks Targo, gesturing at his colleagues.
<Wilhelmina> "Want it?" Wilhelmina searches through her datacards before finding the correct one. "Or want it destroyed?"
<El-Cideon> "I'll need to confiscate it," she says. "I'm sure you understand. I can smooth over the loss of security guards, but dissemination of research data would be substantially more difficult." To Wil: "Destroyed would be sufficient, yes."
* Wilhelmina nods, not caring either way.
<Targo> "She means give it to her," clarifies Targo.
* Wilhelmina holds the datacard over. "Have fun."
<El-Cideon> Lorna nods and pockets it. "Margarita?" she addresses the Esperitan. "Or Reina, as you seem to prefer. Your various felonies have been purged from the record. We're taking it on good faith that they will not recur. You're free to go where you like, but be aware that you will not experience such magnaminity a second time should you abuse our goodwill."
<El-Cideon> "As for the ship, Mr. Silver? We're prepared to sign it over to your name."The clerk hands over a datapad loaded with various registration forms. "The necessary forms are all here."
<Targo> "Mmm. We're renaming it, naturally," remarks Targo, reaching for the datapad and starting to fill it out. Of course, he registers it in the name of Lagoon Company rather than himself. "We are, of course, renaming it," he mentions, scanning the pad for the appropriate line.
<El-Cideon> "I'd hope so," Lorna says. "'Black Wind.' I mean, really.
<Targo> "It's the Pond Falcon, now," replies Targo, writing only 'Falcon' down in the row.
* Wilhelmina snorts.
<El-Cideon> "Well. That's some manner of improvement, at least. Now, I'll be on my way unless there's anything else? I have work to do. Again, thank you for your services. I trust we can call upon you again in the future if needed?"
<Forrest> "Happy to help," Forrest confirms amiably.
<Targo> "You have our number."
<El-Cideon> "Of course. Goodbye for now." With that, she exits, taking the clerk and the guards outside with her.
<Targo> "We have a ship. It has fuel. We have money. Wil, let's go to Coleille and visit a casino."
<El-Cideon> ---