Campaign of the Month: January 2011

Honour Among Thieves

Special Delivery Session Three
A close quarters battle, with no quarter given.

Wild Sky could feel half-forgotten reflexes coming online, like a sudden torrent of water through an open floodgate. A tingling sensation rippled down her limbs, which now brimmed with newfound strength.

It dawned on her that although her and YJ’s situation was precarious, they were by no means in mortal danger.

Beside her, YJ figured that even though he was on his knees, he wasn’t about to take death lying down. Time to make a play, he thought.

“Mr. Singh, sir?” he said. “I really need to go to the little boy’s room.”

Singh smirked. “Boss says you’re to stay put and shut up, so stay put and shut up.”

“You don’t really want me to do my business down here,” YJ said. “It’s going to smell real bad, even if you kill me.”

“I kill you, you’re going to do your business in your pants regardless, so shut up.” Singh said, running a hand through his wavy black hair.

“All right,” YJ pursed his lips, sighed inwardly and let his bladder go.

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Special Delivery Session Two
Wherein things get a mite piratical.

Wild Sky spun on her heavy boot heel and ran as fast as she could away from the ambush. No sooner had she done so than she heard a muffled shout behind her and the armored rattle of approaching attackers.

Her bulky spacesuit didn’t help matters as she turned the corner back into the main corridor. She pushed her way past hanging tangles of torn wire as she bolted down the corridor towards the airlock. Judging from the noise her pursuers were making as they ran towards her, they were all in the same boat.

She flinched as she heard the report of a shotgun. Sparks flew as buckshot scored a section of bulkhead next to her.

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Special Delivery Session One
Wherein Wild Sky and YJ discover that no good deed goes unpunished.

After parting ways with Desdemona, Ying Johnson and Wild Sky spent the better part of a week on board Shenmue with the hidden cargo of Chrysanthemum Blonde as they made their way to New Melbourne to deliver the goods to Sai McKittrick’s contact.

With a skeleton crew of two, it took all of Johnson’s considerable skill to keep the boat flying. He divided his time between staying on the bridge to keep an eye on navigation and the status of the freighter’s many systems, and patrolling the ship, doing visual checks on the engine room and life support systems.

When she wasn’t helping the Captain with odd jobs either mechanical or technical, Wild Sky was busy searching her bunk for any clue as to her identity and background.

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Angels of Mercenary Session Four
Wherein the crew attends a shady shindig.

Doctor Park was as good as his word, providing Tulsa with the necessary travel papers that would get the crew into the quarantine zone, and updated information on the quarantine and progress to date on the previous rounds of inoculations in the quarantine zone.

As the gala drew near, Tulsa read over the SNS briefing documents and briefed the crew.

“It’s a sclerosis, it’s necrotizing, and it’s systemic, hence the name,” he said. “It’s bacterial/fungal, so we may see fever and skin rashes that turn into blisters full of necrotized tissue. Painful eruptions follow. Think giant cysts. As it progresses it infects and disrupts internal organs, causing disruptions, internal edemas, blisters…”

He looked up at Worth and Jonah. “This is a fun one!”

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Angels of Mercenary Session Three
Wherein the beginning is the end, if not the beginning of the end.

October 17, 2517

BOOM!

The thunderous explosion reverberated across the compound as the heavy iron gates of the Mission at Mission Hill were blown off their hinges, each reinforced door scything through the air, cartwheeling across the courtyard, throwing off bits of rusted shrapnel each time they impacted on the hard dirt surface.

One section of gate came to rest at the foot of the entrance of the white-bricked church, its vine-wrapped steeple standing defiantly against the blue sky. There were several outbuildings on either side of the church, and the compound, enclosed by a high stucco-covered wall, contained a few gnarled willow trees, their branches hissing in the wind.

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Angels of Mercenary Session Two
Wherein deals are made, and the crew is divided.

The star field surrounding Desdemona twinkled and shimmered as the space yacht continued to take sensor readings in search of Shenmue’s lost shuttle.

Worth and the Doc chose to confer with Jonah, who was still flat on his back but very much on the mend, in the ship’s infirmary, while they awaited Shenmue’s arrival. Worth rigged the ship’s comm system so they could converse with YJ and Wild Sky.

“I’m thinking, if I were them, and I’m stuck there, I would be ‘we’ve got this amount of time left, which gives us enough time to get to the closest planet…’” Jonah said from his infirmary bed once Worth explained the situation to him.

“Maybe they panicked.” YJ said over the ship’s comm.

“And there’d be a now or never moment where if we don’t leave now we’re not making it,” Jonah said. “And we told them we were coming back, but for all they know we got shot up, or in prison.”

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Angels of Mercenary Session One
Win some, lose some.

Desdemona and Shenmue continued their speedy departure from Santo.

Doc Tulsa retrieved a stretcher from Desdemona’s well-outfitted medical bay and with Worth’s assistance got Jonah extricated from his blood-soaked pilot’s chair. They wheeled Jonah to the infirmary.

Shenmue received a wave from Wesley Ferris:

Mr. McKittrick congratulates you on your acquisition. You are instructed to deliver the item to Sherrod & Sons Repair Dock on Bedford Island, New Melbourne at your earliest convenience. Contact details are appended to this message. Please give Sherrod & Sons advance warning of your arrival, and, as always, please exercise discretion in the discharge of your duties.

Sincerely,

Wesley Ferris, Esq.

“Okay then,” YJ said. “So we have our destination.”

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Nine Tenths of the Law Session Fifteen
Wherein a getaway is made.

Desdemona and Shenmue streaked away from Santo, engines straining as they fought to escape the planet’s gravity well. They were followed by three attack bug fighter craft, engines flaring blue-white as they attempted to catch up.

Worth continued to extract Desdemona’s pulse beacon from its recessed housing deep in the guts of the luxury yacht, surrounded by shiny Newtech control systems that weren’t just top of the line, they were above the line.

Doc Tulsa remained in the corridor, cleaning up the spilled narcotics from the wine cask.

Jonah rode the wave of numbness pulsating from his midsection and fought to keep his head clear as his hands played across Desdemona’s slick control surfaces. He could tell from the power levels and throttle settings that Desdemona was a fast ship – certainly the fastest he’d ever flown. He was reasonably confident that she would be able to outrun the attack bugs if need be. He fed more power to the ship’s thrusters and easily pulled ahead of the approaching craft.

YJ gritted his teeth as he watched the streamlined space yacht slip ahead of his decidedly lower-performance vessel. He played with the idea of going for hard burn, but he hadn’t even decided on a course heading.

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Nine Tenths of the Law Session Fourteen
Fancy shooting. Fancy flying. All in a day's work.

Jonah sagged back in the pilot’s acceleration chair and passed out, blood running from his mouth, as Worth and Doc Tulsa made their way to the bridge.

Worth holstered his pistol, a look of concern on his face. Jonah was their ticket offworld, and he definitely did not look to be spaceworthy at the moment. He was slumped in the pilot’s chair, his head lolling, as a nasty-looking knife wound along his abdomen oozed blood.

“I got this,” Doc Tulsa said as he shouldered past Worth, ignoring the nearly headless corpse on the floor as he rushed to the side of his wounded crewmate. He was already rummaging through his pockets to find a spare painkiller ampule. He estimated the correct dose and slapped the derm to Jonah’s arm.

Jonah’s bloodstream was hit by a speedballing freight train of endorphin. He sat upright, ignoring the gash in his side. “I’m okay!” he slurred confidently. “Let’s start preflight!” His fingers played across the glass control interface, leaving bloody smears in their wake.

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Nine Tenths of the Law Session Thirteen
Wherein the crew faces the unkindest cut of all. Well, maybe just Jonah.

The crewmembers cooled their heels at their budget lodgings in Capital City, waiting for Declan Jenner to send for them. In the meantime, Shenmue had been transferred to a nearby repair dock courtesy of Tao Barker, who had also dispatched a bevy of licensed mechanics to give the freighter a thorough overhaul.

Wild Sky had let the repair crew on board, but kept out of their way as best she could. She was feeling quite a bit better. Her headache persisted, but her battered body was feeling less stiff and sore by the hour.

One day turned into two.

“Why don’t we get back to Jenner instead of waiting?” YJ said.

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