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Author Topic: Space Cowboys for Hire [Turn 6]  (Read 17581 times)

Stirk

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 1]
« Reply #75 on: October 24, 2019, 07:46:19 pm »

Stirks Mods:

In addition to being prepared to dismount, those on the bus clearing mission should be prepared to use the bulk of the SUV to their advantage. Most people will get out of the way when you have a big piece of metal coming toward them, simply moving the vehicle through the picket line slowly should be enough to scatter a path. That isn't to say we need to run them down, just that they are authorized to use their vehicle to break through if the situation warrants it.

Switch out a Val from the IntGeo mission to the AMR mission. While a suppressed weapon may lack the intimidation factor of a loud *BANG*, it is a fully automatic weapon capable of laying down suppressive fire in a worst case scenario that could be useful on the crowds, not so useful against the jungle. They can keep one just so they have some long-distance self defense and don't have to wrestle bears at pistol ranges.

Do we have any recognizable logo or emblem? While we have the "Don't look at us!" covered with balaclavas and sunglasses, we could definitely use the "HEY GUYS LOOK AT US!" for the goodwill missions. Throw a big patch on the field uniform, provide company T-shirts for off-time use in the Goodhaven mission, just something to tie our name deeper into the mission.

Unrelated to my modifications, I'm not sure we ever completed the last writing contest.
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This is my signature. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

This is my waifu, this is my gun. This one's for fighting, this ones for fun.

1freeman

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 1]
« Reply #76 on: October 24, 2019, 09:40:41 pm »

Quote from:  Operations Plan Votebox
(3) Neil's Plan: OpsChief, naturegirl1999,1freeman

I don't feel like we should bring another VAL on the AMR Mission.
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Stirk

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 1]
« Reply #77 on: October 24, 2019, 10:59:05 pm »

Quote from:  Operations Plan Votebox
(3) Neil's Plan: OpsChief, naturegirl1999,1freeman
(1) Stirk's Plan: Stirk
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This is my signature. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

This is my waifu, this is my gun. This one's for fighting, this ones for fun.

King Zultan

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 1]
« Reply #78 on: October 25, 2019, 05:30:15 am »

Quote from:  Operations Plan Votebox
(4) Neil's Plan: OpsChief, naturegirl1999,1freeman,King Zultan
(1) Stirk's Plan: Stirk
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The Lawyer opens a briefcase. It's full of lemons, the justice fruit only lawyers may touch.
Make sure not to step on any errant blood stains before we find our LIFE EXTINGUSHER.
but anyway, if you'll excuse me, I need to commit sebbaku.
Quote from: Leodanny
Can I have the sword when youíre done?

ConscriptFive

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 1]
« Reply #79 on: October 25, 2019, 11:17:55 pm »

Before mission prep begins, you decide to call an all hands meeting to address general code of conduct.  The briefing room is packed with between you, Sam, Neil, the ten operators, and a handful of support personnel.

"Good morning everyone.  While I'm sure we're all eager to finally get back to work, there are some issues I'd like to address."

You motion to a large poster mounted prominently on the wall.

Quote from: Wall Poster
1. I ainít your babysitter. Personal business is personal business, company business is company business. Just take off the company hat before you start beating baby seals and show up sober and we wonít ask how you spend your weekends (on the record at least).
2. I AM your boss. ďYes sirĒ is the answer Iím looking for. Youíre a professional when you put your warface on, and discipline is part of your job. Unless you can back talk faster than their bullets your better off following my orders when I give them.
3. Your gear is company property. Stop notching up my guns for godís sake! The uniform is a fighting tool too, if I end up losing a man because they put a bright pink hello kitty sticker over their heart I'm hanging up my gun.
    3.5 Jesus, fine. You pay for the gun you can scratch it up all you like. Still won't let you screw with the cammo.
4. So is your body come to think of it. Iím paying your hospital bills, keep the damn thing low.
5. This ainít the army, you ainít a private. Iím Danny Ocean, everyone calls me Danny. Call each other whatever the hell you want.
6. Loose lips get us kicked off the ship. If you're chatting up a girl at a bar with a rousing story of your heroism, leave out the part where you violated thirty interstellar laws.
7. Money is life. We're all screwed if you screw us over, I find out any of you have been embezzling or stealing from the company you get one last bullet on me. Same track different train, we got to do whatever it takes to get the rent money.
8. No man left behind. Your bodies are company property remember? Can't go wasting them. Look out for each other. Have each other's back. We're in this for the looooong haul, act like someone who wants to spend the next couple of centuries with his co-workers. Nobody wants to be buddies with Johnny "Screw You Guys I'm Going Back Alone".

"Now you new people never met my husband Danny Ocean.  These were what he called Ocean's Ten Commandments.  Now I know what you're thinking.  'Mrs. Ocean, why are they called the TEN commandments when there are only EIGHT.'  And that would be the point where Danny would tell you to shut the frak up."

The crew laughs mildly along with you.

"Danny was quite the character, and that's why I loved him."

You pause for effect and transition to your own speech.

"Out of respect for my husband, those rules remain in effect.  But there are a few things I'd like to emphasize."

"We've got a proud history, but we've taken quite a beating both physically and in terms of reputation.  I don't want to panic anyone, but our finances are not looking good right now.  All of our jobs are on the line here, and if we're going to turn this business around, we're going to need some professionalism."

"Danger is what we do folks.  Because of that, I expect a baseline amount of seriousness on the job.  Your very lives are at stake the moment you hit planetside.  Follow orders, but don't forget to think critically.  When things get strange, look to your team leaders and specialists for guidance."

"Now we're a small PMC and I like to think of us all as family.  You can still call me Mrs. Ocean, but feel free to get on a first name basis with each other.  Us TI modded folk are going to be seeing each other for an eternity if all goes well, so we better start getting familiar now."

"However, I still demand professionalism on the job.  Dress appropriately before I have to go and assign you guys uniforms like Greywater does.  As for recreational substances, they're called recreational for a reason.  We don't need anyone compromising their performance in the field.  If you have to use, use on your own time, and please do so responsibly.  Neither Neil or I want to see any of you here pee in a cup."

You pause for snickers in the audience.

"Seriously folks, work hard, play hard, but try not to mix the two.  It really doesn't need to get too complicated beyond that.  Stay frosty, cowboys."

Several operators start a steady applause that builds to fill the room.  You can't help but smile at that level of appreciation, "Oh get the hell out of here before you make me blush."

***

By lunch, you're still mulling over the operational plans Neil sent your earlier.  Sure they're good, but you have a nagging sense they could be better.  You make it back to your office and notice a cup conspicuously centered on the middle of your desk.  You warily approach to see it filled with a faint yellow fluid.

"GORRAMIT!" you scream, and are soon answered by a cacophony of knowing laughter from the hallway.

OOC: Decided to conclude the event a phase early to try to cut down how long the battle report is going to be.  Operations Phase is still running, so write and vote accordingly.

Quote from:  Operations Plan Votebox
(4) Neil's Plan: OpsChief, naturegirl1999,1freeman,King Zultan
(1) Stirk's Plan: Stirk

Shadowclaw777

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 1]
« Reply #80 on: October 29, 2019, 02:38:41 am »

Quote from:  Operations Plan Votebox
(4) Neil's Plan: OpsChief, naturegirl1999,1freeman,King Zultan
(2) Stirk's Plan: Stirk, SC777
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ConscriptFive

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 2]
« Reply #81 on: November 06, 2019, 02:38:45 pm »

OOC: Unironic Trigger Warning.  So despite some of the soft sci-fi contrivances I had to pull to make the game mechanics work, the general theme of this universe is hard sci-fi.  It would be a dis-service to that theme, if things didn't get really brutal now and then, particularly lethal combat.  The second mission, the AMR Strikebreaker Escort gets pretty intense.  While the violence is technically no more explicit than Dwarf Fortress or Liberal Crime Squad content-wise, some readers may find the non-fantasy setting and dramatic writing style too disturbing.  Feel free to skip to the spoiler'd mission summary if you need to.  As evidenced by the other two missions, it doesn't have to be like this, but there can be no light without darkness.  I'll try to keep us out of edgelord grimdark splatterhouse bullshit, but this kind of stuff can happen.  Perhaps you should literally serve as Mrs. Ocean's conscience and convince Ocean's Ten to do things differently?



Int Geo Smilodon Recon

Quote from: Mission Plan
Four operators on three ATV's will perform an extended expedition into the highlands of Lossarnach in search of Smilodon big cats.  The expedition will use the combined ATVs' extensive payload to bring enough camping supplies to safely spend weeks in the wilderness.  Our scout, Nikita, and two pairs of thermal binoculars will aid in the search of these elusive animals.  Smartphone cameras will also be used for further documentation.  ATV's will be used offroad in silent mode when possible, to cover more ground without alerting the wildlife.  If any locals are encountered, the operators should ask about Smilodon sightings or any general knowledge regarding Smilodons.  In addition to standard shotguns and revolvers, two Val carbines will be packed for security backup.  As a general safety precaution, the base camp should never be unguarded at any hour, and no one should leave the camp alone or unarmed.

Cat Fact: A fully grown Smildon sabretooth cat can close fifty meters in under three seconds.

Ocean's Ten learned this the hard way.  But we'll get to that...

Danny Ocean loved the noir-ish intrigues of the big cities, placing extended wilderness expeditions outside of Ocean Ten's traditional mission set.  This lack of institutional familiarity shows in Neil's unimpressive plan to wander the wilderness.  But can powerful specialty equipment and plenty of manpower compensate for this shortcoming?  Your four-man Ocean's Ten expedition into the Lossarnach highlands had weeks in "tiger country" to find out.

As is true for any extended expedition, packing is a chore.  The three ATV's provide enough payload for your four men's MRE's and drinking water, but the lack of an interior cabin or tow-able camper means they'll be sleeping in pup-tents.  Sleeping under the stars isn't exactly viable when its storming hard and man-eating wildlife are about.

The expedition touches down on a remote spaceport on Lossarnach.  Nikita the Scout is first to note that the highlands are off on the horizon, overlooking an expansive forest.  After confirming with the shuttle pilot that this was indeed the closest spaceport, your team reluctantly disembarked.

Before leaving the spaceport, Erik Heller remembers to ask the lone spaceport controller about Smilodon sabretooth cats.

"Eh, you don't hear much about those anymore.  The mammoth ranchers really drove them out.  You might still find them up in the highlands over yonder."

After several hours on the road, they break for lunch.  The open and overstuffed ATVs aren't the most ideal long-haul vehicles, but they're tolerable in good weather.  Nikita is first to note the lateness of the hour.  Soon the others get into pointing out that Neil's plan never identified a campsite, or how to make camp.  Remembering Mrs. Ocean's guidance, Nikita is first to note that there is no Team Leader and that as a specialist, she has no other insight in this matter.  After further discussion, your team elects Ethan Hunt as their leader for this mission.

Ethan points out a wooded hilltop, and by nightfall, a camp is struck.  It's a rudimentary setup: pup-tents and ATV's around a central firepit.  After a late dinner, your team tucks in for the night with James "Hoxton" Hoxworth on first shift for nightwatch.  The hilltop location is an excellent tactical choice, providing great lines of sight and the ascent providing a natural obstacle to intruders.  Experienced outdoorsmens, which your team certainly isn't, would also stress that such a location would keep the camp "high and dry" from storm flooding, although high winds might be an issue.  Luckily, the weather proves extraordinarily calm for the duration of the month.

However, as the last nightwatch shift goes to swap the thermal night vision binocular batteries, a mild panic ensues.  Despite frantically rummaging through all three ATV's, Erik cannot find the spare batteries.  After the entire team then shakes down their personal baggage, it's confirmed that they were missed on the packing list.  As a result, only one set of the FLIR binoculars can be used at a time.  To avoid compromising camp security with a lack of night vision, Team Leader Ethan decides to call off night operations for now.

Cat Fact: Smilodon sabretooth cats are solitary hunters, whose outright disdain for others push their habitats into regions far from human habitation.

The first several reconnaissance expeditions have mixed results.  Using their offroad ATV's, your team quickly maps the geography of the region, locating a small lake and even a natural salt lick.  However, while Nikita is the first to note plenty of large, apparently feline, paw prints around these two sites in particular; they've yet to spot a Smilodon in the flesh.

Realizing active pursuit is proving ineffective, Team Leader Ethan decides setting up a camouflaged hide site to stakeout a site is likely a better course of action.  Despite the lack of relevant hardware or a construction, wilderness, or camouflage specialist, your team manages to improvise a passable hunting blind that can be transported via ATV.  Upon completion, Nikita the Scout recommends the lake as more suitable for observation than the salt lick.

This method of hunting, while less adventurous, proves much more fruitful.  Wildlife has gradually grown accustomed to the hunting blind, and don't seem to notice the humans inside it.  The next several days of the expedition are leisurely spent recording wildlife with smartphones.  Great weather makes for excellent shooting in the sunshine, enhancing their amateur photography into something worthy of professional publication.  Various large waterfowl and even a small herd of Pronghorn antelope are seen regularly at the lake, but still no big cats.

Perhaps your expedition would be more vexed by this slow going progress if the overall setting wasn't so lovely.  Nikita and Hoxton seem to look forward to spending hours together alone on a wooded lakeside surrounded by the tranquil sounds of nature.  By their last few days, Erik notes that while their daylight photography has been somewhat fruitful, clearly its time to risk camp security for night observations.  Nikita and Hoxton enthusiastically agree to start spending the night together.  Team Leader Ethan agrees, as they're running out of time, Nikita is the Scout after all, and there has been absolutely zero threats to the camp at night.

Cat Fact: Smilodon sabretooth cats are primarily nocturnal and are rarely active during daylight hours.

As the sun sets upon Nikita and Hoxton inside the hunting blind, they eagerly share the lone set of thermal binoculars.  Scanning the brush in the twilight, a large white hot blob creeps slowly and stealthily.  Tracking the heat signature, they witness a full grown 500lb Smildon sabretooth cat, emerging from the bush to cautiously approach the waterline.  Gasping for joy, Nikita then sees three small cubs toddle out to play in the water while their mother drinks.  As a loss for words, Nikita smacks Hoxton with the binoculars and points at the sight.  The even less stealthy Hoxton exclaims "Holy frak!" upon seeing them, startling the mother and her cubs back into the woods.

Throughout the night observation, they hear a hunt in the distance, and manage to spot at least two more adult Smilodons each visiting the same lake.  By dawn, they've witnessed more than enough to document that lake as a thriving Smilodon habitat.  Nikita can't contain her excitement as she reports their observations to the rest of the team back at camp.  Your team is ecstatic as they congratulate each other on accomplishing their mission.  However, Nikita is first to note that they still should observe the salt lick, since they still have three days left.  Hoxton immediately supports her suggestion, and Team Leader Ethan signs off on it.

After Erik and Ethan spend the day relocating the blind, Nikita and Hoxton move into their hide sight at the salt lick just before sundown.  Little more than an unusual rock outcropping in a natural spring, the salt lick is a dramatically smaller and less scenic site than the lake.  Unfortunately, this also means shorter standoff distance and poorer lines of sight, which is why Nikita the Scout had previously advised the team to focus on the lake.

Sadly, the two see nothing the entire night.  An optimistic Erik and Ethan then try a day shift at the salt lick, to no avail.  Nikita is first to note that perhaps the wildlife isn't used to the hunting blind yet?  After hours of more nothing on their last night, Nikita again spotted a large white hot blob plodding through the woods.  Expecting the mother and cubs again, she freezes in terror as she witnesses a gargantuan Smilodon, well over 1000lb, patrol through the salt lick for prey.  Rapidly shouldering the Val carbine, the giant Smilodon bolts off into the night as it then hears the mechanical click of the safety lever being set to full auto.

Cat Fact:  Lossarnach was populated with two species of Smilodon: the lion-sized Smilodon Fatalis, and the twice as large Smilodon Populator.  While technically shorter than a modern lion, the Smildon's high density is due to a highly muscular bear-like physique rather than a comparatively lithe feline musclature.

Meanwhile, Ethan pulls nightwatch back at camp as Erik sleeps.  It's been a long expedition and Neil's insistence on a nightwatch has proven to be an unnecessary precaution.  If these orders weren't in writing, Team Leader Ethan would have scrapped this complete waste of manpower by now.  Having drank way too much coffee to stay awake for this bullshit one last time, he desperately needs to relieve himself.  After weeks of use, the improvised latrine is getting way too defiled for civilized use, yet it isnt't worth the effort to dig another for this last night.  Surely he could just slip into some virgin bushes for once, rather than again being surrounded by his team's collective feces?

Ethan contentedly strips down and settles in, finding satisfaction in his act of petty rebellion.  Now there's an old military veteran's adage that "complacency kills."  The most dangerous days of a soldier's combat deployment are the very end, as the over-confident veteran drops his guard, expecting the same absent threats he's since survived.  Could this prove the end of Ethan?

Cat Fact: Smilodons, like many nocturnal predators, can see at least five to ten times better than humans in low-light conditions.

A certain prickling anxiety works up the back of Ethan's neck: the eerie discomfort of behind watched.  Scanning ahead of himself, he sees nothing.  He carefully turns around to see two illuminated green eyes in the brush.  His pants around his ankles, the startled prey trips and falls.  The apex predator sprints and pounces.

Ethan's hands find their grip on a Val carbine and empty a 20 round magazine at point-blank.  Enough rounds connect to cause 600lbs of muscle to flinch midair and avoid bodyslamming the half-naked operator down the hillside.  Tossing the carbine aside, Ethan struggles to free the .357 revolver at his ankles.  The sound of six gunshots in the dead of the night is enough to wake Erik, while Hoxton is calling in a radio check with the sound of an ATV revving in the distance.

While rattled and thoroughly shamed, Ethan is miraculously unharmed physically.  Daybreak reveals the bullet-mangled corpse of a male Smilodon Fatalis.  Its skull is shattered by approximately three shots, with at least a half dozen wounds in the torso.  Its pelt is a bloody mess, but as a male, its prominent and highly collectable namesake sabretooth incisors are fully intact.  Planning on leaving Lossarnach for the Mothership Leviathan that morning anyways, the team crudely butchers the corpse and stuffs it in a sealed cooler.  Somehow, Leviathan Customs neglected to search this blood-streaked container, and commemorative trophies were made for various personnel within Ocean's Ten.

Once aboard the ship, Sam compiles, edits, and uploads the expedition's report to Int Geo.  They are overjoyed with Ocean PMC's work.  Some of lake wildlife footage gets published alongside a feature length article on "The Lost Smilodons of Lossarnach."  The article credits Ocean PMC with the rare feats of spotting both Smilodon cubs and a majestic Smilodon Populator.  Until this article, the Smilodon Populator had been thought to be extinct due to hunting by mammoth ranchers.  As Int Geo wasn't expecting enough content to make this a full feature length article on the inital bid, they felt it was appropriate to raise the payout by another 10k.

Spoiler: Mission Summary (click to show/hide)

AMR Strikebreaker Escort

Quote from: Mission Plan
Four operators on one SUV will escort an AMR bus of "temporary workers" from a spaceport to a refinery currently beset by demonstrators.  Three operators will ride in the SUV clearing the way for the bus, while one will stay on the bus as a rear guard.  The two passengers on the SUV should be prepared to dismount as needed.  Operators will attempt to use non-lethal force with warning shots and birdshot.  Shotguns will be the primary weapons, although one Val carbine will be kept safely tucked away near the driver seat of both the SUV and bus.  Given the high visibility and political sensitivity of this operation, all four operators will be masked with balaclavas and dark sunglasses.

You could cut the tension with a knife as your four-man team arrives at the spaceport on Anghabar.  While AMR-owned mass media is avoiding coverage of the demonstrations, social media has been flooded by smartphone photos and videos from outside the Red River Refinery.  Currently trending is a video of masked demonstrators being dramatically knocked down by AMR security personnel with fire hoses.  Your men couldn't help but watch such valuable real-time intelligence compulsively the whole ride down from the Mothership Leviathan.

Simon Templar is first to look up from his smartphone, "Just to confirm guys, we're going full gray ops sterile on this one.  Strip any name tapes, insignia, or other identifiers if you haven't already.  Mask up before the shuttle ramp drops.  Brevity codes for names here on out."

Victor "Mr. Blonde" Vega pipes up, "Also, the plan didn't say anything about specific roles or even battlefield leadership.  I'd like to take the Team Leader role."

"No objections here," responds Angus MacGuyver.  "If you want command authority of this clusterfrak, more power to you.  Literally."

The rest of your team agrees, and Mr. Blonde becomes Team Leader.  Furthermore, Simon will drive the SUV, with Mr. Blonde and MacGuyver as the dismounts.  Evelyn Salt will ride aboard the bus itself.

The AMR coach bus is unmistakable at the spaceport.  Dinghy orange with "AMR" stenciled on all four sides in big block letters, it's not exactly a low-profile/low-signature vehicle.  An over-stressed bus driver in a worn AMR polo shirt is relieved to see your team.

"You must be the guys security called in.  Everything is going to shit out here.  Also, do any of you speak Bengali?  I can't tell if these folk want to use the bathroom or order chicken tikka."

Your team scopes out the interior of the bus, and sure enough, it's packed with surprisingly calm South Asian heritage laborers.  MacGuyver comments that they probably haven't been on social media yet, and are clueless what they're about to drive into.  Meanwhile, the bus driver clearly has, and is visibly trembling.

Team Leader Mr. Blonde briefs the bus driver the plan, "All you have to do is follow our truck.  We'll do the hard work.  Our girl here is gonna be at your shoulder the whole time."

Salt pats the driver on the shoulder reassuringly while noticing the name tag printed on his shirt, "We're in this together Regis.  Ain't nothing is going to happen with me there."

Regis the bus driver is comforted by her reassurances and visibly calms down.

Meanwhile, Simon notices a bearded white man in full black tactical gear with a HK USP .40 in a drop leg holster across the tarmac.  Greywater Solutions PMC insignia adorns his shoulders and a name tape identifies him as "J. Ryan."  (Of course Greywater would have someone nostalgia'd as Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan.)  He calmly waves at your team and gives a wordless nod.  He likely saw the Centennial Hawk land, and otherwise recognizes enough of your hardware to identify your team as Ocean PMC.  Despite President Nick Clay's theatrics at the memorial service, the actual operators of Greywater seem willing to keep a certain amount of peer-to-peer courtesy in response to Mrs. Ocean's olive branch.  Behind him is a gunmetal-grey Ford F-150 pickup, customized with a pintel-mounted M60 7.62mm machine gun, being staged for another mission in the area.  The operators working this custom "technical," all similar in appearance to "J. Ryan," are unmistakably blasting Dio's "Holy Diver" from the truck's stereo system.

When your team begun to lead the bus out of the spaceport, the Greywater technical pulled alongside briefly to cheer "Get some, monkey!" while pumping their fists.  Clearly they'd been following social media and have deduced what your team is about to attempt.  Simon couldn't help but chuckle at the display, and wishes he could be as enthusiastic about bringing unarmored vehicles and unarmored personnel into a riot.

Fifty miles is a fairly long trip, and despite their ominous destination, a certain complacency settles in over the two hour drive.  Cut off from social media and focused on watching their sectors, your men remain unaware of the further deteriorating situation at the refinery.  Had someone thought to set up a line of communication with security at the refinery, they might have also known otherwise.

The convoy's first warning of trouble is dark black trails of smoke on the horizon.  Pollution isn't uncommon on Anghabar, but the Red River Refinery is supposedly inoperable and billows a more typical greyish kind of emissions.  As they arrived upon the masses surroundimg the refinery, they begun to hear the traditional anthem of "Solidarity Forever."

When the union's inspiration
Through the workers' blood shall run
There can be no power greater
Anywhere beneath the sun
Yet what force on earth is weaker
Than the feeble strength of one?
But the union makes us strong


Fully obstructed, the convoy comes to a halt at the edge of the demonstration.  Salt watches Regis the bus driver begins rocking back and forth, thumbing a fuscia rabbit's foot keychain, mouthing to himself some unknown mantra or prayer.  Before Salt can again reassure him, Team Leader Mr. Blonde calls over the comms, "Guys, we got a gorram wobbly convention out here.  Two pax dismounting.  Keep your weapons high and heads on a swivel."

It is we who plowed the prairies
Built the cities where they trade
Dug the mines and built the workshops
Endless miles of railroad laid
Now we stand outcast and starving
Mid the wonders we have made
But the union makes us strong


The convoy begins to crawl through the mass of demonstrators.  The Land Rover's brushguard bumper and two masked operators high carrying shotguns are enough to threaten clear a small opening directly in the path of the convoy.  Yet it's only a small openning, and the faceoff stays within grappling range.  MacGuyver and Mr. Blonde are forced to muzzle-thump and buttstroke aside some of the more resistant demonstrators.  Several other demonstrators holding picket signs take the opportunity to smack the sides of the vehicles as they pass, a highly distracting but otherwise feeble show of physical aggression.  The vehicles run the windshield wipers as the occasional burst of tobacco spits lands right on target.

Burrowing ever deeper into the demonstration, your men each internalize their own threat assessments of the crowd literally within spitting range.  Most demonstrators are hard scrabble white caucasians in their teens to middle-age.  All are masked, likely fearing later retaliation by their AMR supervisors or worse, AMR-aligned paramilitaries.  Most have occupational related gear of some sort, with industrial hard hats and heavy denim coveralls being highly common.  Within these ranks, a distinct class of agitators is identifible.  Typically wearing a heavy black almost Darth Vader-like industrial facial respirator, these so called "Black Masks" won't seem to back down without a fight.

After several minutes of slow but steady progress, the convoy is again brought to a halt.  Concealed well within the crowd, the demonstrators have erected a makeshift checkpoint of sorts.  Coils of pilfered concertina razor wire strung across the roadway between two opposing lamp posts, it's an intimidating sight.  While clearly impassable to foot traffic, it's conceivable the lead SUV could breech it at speed with its brush guard bumper.  However, the razor wire would likely whipsaw across the crowd, catching dozens of bystanders, as well as likely tangle on the vehicle, rupturing tires and even immobilizing an axel.  While not the most powerful of breaching tools, the standard issue multitool wirecutters are a more conservative solution to this problem.  If only an operator could be ensured enough breathing room to clip through the wire one by one.

They have taken untold millions
That they never toiled to earn
But without our brain and muscle
Not a single wheel can turn
We can break their haughty power
Gain our freedom when we learn
That the union makes us strong


So focused on scanning the hostile demonstrators, Salt and the rest of your team have taken for granted the Bengali-speaking South Asian "temporary workers" so far.  By now, the poor dupes are becoming increasingly aware of what they're being brought into.  No longer contentedly pacified, they begin opening the window curtains to witness the event around them.  Salt whips around to look down the aisle as confused indiciperable Bengali chatter suddenly erupts.  She runs down the aisle screaming "Down! Down!" and throwing people to the floor, but it's already too late.  The sight of masses of South Asian faces brings electrifying shouts of "SCABS!" across the crowd.

The harmless disgrace of placards and spit on the sides of the vehicles are soon replaced by the dull thuds bottles and bricks being thrown.  The non-ballistic side windows of the SUV are soon spider-webbed, and all of the large acrylic bus windows are eventually punched in.  Out of abject terror and raw self-preservation, at least the temporary workers are all on the floor now.

Simon calls out from the lead SUV, "Ground team, I need that gorram obstacle clear, right gorram now!"

MacGuyver tries to cut and pull the wire faster, but can only work so fast with a basic multitool.  Meanwhile, Mr. Blonde begins firing off warning shots in the air to try keep the crowd off MacGuyver.  But ultimately, one man can only fend off a riot for so long.  A Black Mask tackles Mr. Blonde from behind and takes him down to the asphalt.  Simultaneously, a thrown bottle catches the side of MacGuyver's unarmored head, causing him to stumble into the concertina wire.  Quickly snagged, his panicked thrashing against the wire entanglement bring him down to the ground as well.  As the angry crowd falls upon your two downed operators, the two other operators lose line of sight on them and are too busy with their own sectors to notice the two casualties.

Mr. Blonde hits the asphalt face first but manages to hold it together.  Pinned face-down from behind, he struggles an arm free and unholsters his side arm.  Blind firing his magnum revolver behind himself with one hand, he sprains his wrist firing such a powerful handgun from such an erratic position.  But the desperate gambit works, and the slug connects, winging his assailant.  Breaking free and getting to his feet, his assailant scampers off and the crowd quickly begins scattering as blood is drawn.

While the moderate bulk of demonstrators are now running screaming, the Black Masks take their cue to escalate.  Mr. Blonde turns to MacGuyver to see the helpless operator getting kicked in the head by a steel-toed boot.  Reflexively, he puts a .357 round in the attacker's chest, dropping him to the ground.  Screaming in agony from the now aggravated wrist injury, he swaps the pistol to his off-hand.  Nearly choking on a mouth full of loose teeth, he calls out "MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN! WEAPONS FREE!"  Stripping off his bloody bandana to breath, he stands over MacGuyver's wounded murderer.  Staring him down, Mr. Blonde executes him point-blank to the forehead.  "Eighth Commandment, motherfraker."

Mr. Blonde's call of "Man Down" is more than enough to spring Simon and Salt into action.  The crowd thinning fast, they can now see MacGuyver dead and entangled in the wire, and Mr. Blonde struggling to recover him.  Simon plows the SUV through several fleeing demonstrators getting to them.  Needing to free her hands for the recovery, Salt hands off her shotgun to Regis and draws her sidearm.

"You got this Regis," she quickly tells him.  "We'll be out of this before you know it."

Not giving the bus driver a chance to respond, she sprints out of the bus to the obstacle.  Covering Mr. Blonde as he rips off MacGuyver's clothes to free him from the wire, she guns down yet another Black Mask who thought he saw an opening on your men.

Helping drag MacGuyver into the back of the SUV, Salt's happily surprised to see he's still breathing.  Despite being unresponsive with a massive head trauma, MacGuyver isn't quite dead yet.  Lacking any medical specialty or appropriate hardware, she does her best to try and stabilize the casualty.  Other than reassuring him while physically trying to hold his fractured skull together, there's not much more she can do.

Injured, panting, and exhausted from over-exertion, Mr. Blonde scans the asphalt only to confirm that his pump shotgun was indeed stolen in the scuffle.  Returning to the SUV to draw the Val carbine, he sees a Black Mask running from the bus toting the other Val carbine.  Reflexively firing the carbine, he again aggravates his bad wrist, but does put a burst of fire into the back of the fleeing Black Mask.

With Salt busy with the casualty, and Simon driving the SUV, Mr. Blonde is the only free body left to recover the Val and re-secure the bus, his injuries be damned.  Retrieving the loose carbine, he boards the bus to find the Regis gunned down.  Later inspection would confirm the bus driver mis-pumped the shotgun, jamming it.  Upon stealing the Val, the Black Mask had full auto'd the dashboard and then emptied the rest of the 20 round magazine down the aisle.  Mr. Blonde doesnt't find the workers' blood-stained screams in a foreign language particularly helpful at this point.

"Driver down, bus secured," is followed by a blood sputtering cough.  "Frak the obstacle and bring us in hot!"

Simon wastes no time plowing through the remains of the razor wire.  It tangles and whipsaws as predicted, but by now there are no more demonstrators nearby anyways.  The otherwise passive refinery security manages to get the gate open just in time to let the SUV in.

Now this all would've been great, had the bus not still been immobile.  Simon had misinterpreted the Team Leader order as immediate, and neglected to check the status of the bus.  Meanwhile, Mr. Blonde had just pushed the deceased driver out of the seat when he noticed there was no key in the ignition.  Frantically scanning the floor, and then flinging the bus driver out the door to confirm he hadn't set the body ontop it, he still found nothing.  Mr. Blonde looked out the front windshield just long enough to see the SUV and rest of his team long gone.  Ready to abandon the bus and "Mogodishu Mile" his way into the refinery, he thinks to do a quick frisk of the slain Black Mask.  There it was, a fuscia rabbit's foot clutched in his left hand.

Now it turns out this was only half the solution.  The controls for heavy vehicles often are suprisingly different from common consumer grade cars.  With half the dashboard indicators shot out, it takes an excruciatingly long time for Mr. Blonde to figure out how to release the parking break.  The bus lurches briefly and the gears screech while he tries to get the clutch set.

"I drive!" a nearby worker implores in broken English.  Pointing at the bus wheel, he states again emphatically, "I drive!"

Frustrated beyond full tilt, Mr. Blonde dejectedly turns over the wheel to the South Asian worker.  Within thirty seconds, they were already through the refinery gate.

Your team is immediately met by a pair of uniformed AMR paramedics.  They competently transfer the still non-responsive MacGuyver to a rigid spinal board and affix a neck brace.  Shards of mirrored glass are also lodged in his left eye, likely from his obviously non-ballistic sunglasses.  Salt, drenched in MacGuyver's blood, has to verbally confirm that she's not herself injured.  Mr. Blonde is missing most of his front teeth and can barely get a sentence out before gagging on his own blood.

Some kind of authority figure approaches your team and asks who's in charge.  Simon Templar, the only man conscious, uninjured, and not drenched in blood, glances over to Mr. Blonde who wordlessly hands over authority.  Introductions are made.

"Sorry to have to meet like this, but I'm Agent Barclay, AMR Counterintelligence & Facility Protection.  It's a hell of a thing you guys pulled off out there.  But if you guys are the PMC I think you are, I would've expected nothing less.  Now you didn't hear this from me, but from one security professional to another, AMR corporate wanted to frak you raw on this operation.  But you guys deserve better than that, and I'm going to take care of you."

"That being said, tell your boss to get in touch directly with me for further work.  Those industrialists types can't see where this labor strike is going, and really don't understand our kind of work.  I need some crafy Danny Ocean-types to shut down this insurgency before it gets out of hand."

Back home aboard the Mothership Leviathan, the wounded operators are transferred to the trauma side of the TI medicine clinic.  The good news is that his TI implant was undamaged by the head trauma.  Per Ocean PMC's medical plan, he'll still get a fresh body next FTL.  They also project MacGuyver will survive, but will lose his left eye.  He's some responsive now, but likely won't be ambulatory for at least a month.  Mr. Blonde gets checked out as well.  His right wrist will be crippled for at least a month, but at least his new dentures give him a winning smile.

In Sam's office, the final payment comes in.  Agent Barclay wasn't wrong, AMR fraked them.  5k deduction for "exployee loss" and a 20k deduction for "equipment loss."  Shortly later, a deposit from a private account on Anghabar covers the difference of 25k.

That kind of bloodbath definitely wasn't the kind of work Simon Templar was looking forward to when he joined up.  It's hard to unwind after seeing that much bloodshed, but he tries to find something to distract himself with.  "Wait, what the hell was that song they were singing?"  He Googles the lyrics to "Solidarity Forever."  Alone in his bunk, he reads to himself the last stanza they never got to hear:

In our hands is placed a power
Greater than their hoarded gold
Greater than the might of atoms
Magnified a thousand-fold
We can bring to birth a new world
From the ashes of the old
For the union makes us strong


Spoiler: Mission Summary (click to show/hide)

Part 1/2
« Last Edit: September 07, 2020, 08:34:07 am by ConscriptFive »
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ConscriptFive

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 2]
« Reply #82 on: November 06, 2019, 02:40:00 pm »

Part 2/2

Goodhaven Sheriff Training

Quote from: Mission Plan
Two operators on one SUV will recruit, train, and advise a law enforcement body in the town of Goodhaven on Harad.  These two Military Advisors will reside in client-provided accommodations in Goodhaven.  These mixed gender advisors will be well-equipped and feature a competent specialist to properly inspire our potential recruits and trainees.  After confirming the Sheriff's budget, our advisors will seek competent, able-bodied men and women of decent reputation as recruits.  The Sheriff will provide this force with shotguns, revolvers, batons, hand-cuffs, badges, and push-to-talk radios.  A standard training regime will be developed involving physical training, basic melee combat, basic marksmanship, basic tactics, and communication procedures.  Redbrick will provide special lectures on explosives, including their use, detection of traps, and basic disarming.  To ensure the best camaraderie, our advisors are authorized to live amongst the people of Goodhaven, and further assist them as their free-time and ability allows.

Raising, training, and advising indigenous militias was once Neil's primary mission as a US Army Green Beret.  Thus the plan he wrote for the Goodhaven Sheriff is a genuinely good one.  Despite that the so-called Military Advisors, Redbrick and Anna, are relatively green, they touchdown at the Goodhaven Spaceport confident that Neil set them up for success.

After disembarking, they're immediately met by a man with a handlebar mustache in his late forties, a worn cowboy hat with a tin star atop his head.  A rather enormous revolver is strapped to his hip, which you later confirm to be a .44 Magnum Ruger Redhawk.  He introduces himself as Nash Wilder, "the Sheriff of these parts."  Both your men retain the professionalism to suppress an eyeroll.

Goodhaven proper isn't far, and after a short drive from the spaceport, he invites you into the parlor of his home which doubles as his office.  Underneath a reproduction Tombstone movie poster prominently stating "Justice Is Coming," you three sit down and lay out your plans for the month.

Sheriff Wilder explains that Goodhaven just incorporated six months ago, with an official population of 659.  The town is still growing, and the Sheriff himself had been just a part-time volunteer until the town incorporated.  While the Harad Marshals try to keep outlaws like Los Tornadoes from menacing the outskirts, day-to-day law enforcement in-town has been carried out by the Sheriff himself for at least two years now.  At least none of the saloons are Swearengen-affiliated (yet), and the large syndicates like the Vor and Casa Nuova are busy chasing bigger fish.

To meet these growing needs, the town approved a budget for a full-time Sheriff Department, with all funds to be spent under the sole discretion of Sheriff Wilder.  The Sheriff would like a small police station built, with a holding cell and radio dispatch tower.  This station would support a handful of full-time deputies and three service vehicles.  In addition, he'd like an auxiliary "posse" that can be raised to augment the force during major incidents.

During this initial meeting, Sheriff Wilder looks and speaks almost entirely to Redbrick.  While both operators were assigned to this mission as coequal peers, the older male Sheriff is clearly more comfortable working with the male operator as opposed to the relatively young and very attractive Anna.  Redbrick does nothing to discourage this, and becomes the de facto leader of the mission.  Anna is immensely irritated at this slight, but knows better than to start an argument in front of a client.

Redbrick gets to briefing Neil's plan.  The Sheriff is impressed and fervently agrees.  He especially considers the explosives module a welcome surprise.  However, Neil wrote nothing about a building or vehicles.  Neither operator has construction, telecommunications, or vehicle specialties, and Redbrick has to improvise about the station design and vehicle selection.  Pausing in contemplation, the Sheriff approves these additions as well.

The next day, the two operators get to recruiting.  As foreigners (one of them an attractive woman) open carrying exotic AS Val carbines, they have no problem catching the eye of folks around town.  Most have heard of Ocean PMC before, and are curious to meet them in person.  In a few days they make their recruiting target, and training begins.

Training goes well for the most part.  Already hardened frontier-folk, the recruits are already physically fit and familiar with firearms.  It soon becomes a morning ritual to see the Sheriff trainees jog in formation down main street; early-rising shopkeepers watching with satisfaction the demonstration by Goodhaven's Finest.

After their morning run, most of their morning is spent practicing hand-to-hand combat techniques.  Unlike a military force, law enforcement can't go shooting all their adversaries.  Neither operator is a martial arts specialist, but the baseline knowledge is enough to teach the trainees how to grapple with perps.

The afternoon is spent mostly at the gun range.  While the trainees are focused on becoming proficient with their revolvers and shotguns, every now and then you reward them with a full auto demonstration from a Val.  After range time, everyone gets a classroom lecture until the day ends for dinner.

After two solid weeks of training, Redbrick decides the trainees are finally ready for his explosives.  He gets plenty of great questions, and gradually learns that many of his trainees were miners, who were vaguely familiar with blasting in their previous profession.  While plastic explosives ended up abit too expensive for the Sheriff's budget, he decided to stock a case of dynamite after attending Redbrick's various lectures.

As your two operators neared their end of their mission, a special visitor comes to town.  An imposing dark-skinned man in a long-leather duster flashes a wallet badge matter-of-factly, "Colton York, Harad Marshals.  I've heard about you Mr. Batiste."

Acutely aware Anna is processing incoming inventory at the spaceport all day, Redbrick anxiously faces the lawman alone.  The Harad Marshals are famously a subsidiary of Confinity Security Solutions: well-equipped, well-connected, and firmly CoFor aligned.  "Oh, is that true?"

Catching his subject's anxiety, Marshal York smugly returns, "Only good things, Mr. Batiste.  Only good things."

Redbrick laughs awkwardly, still not entirely sure he's going to walk away from this conversation a free man and/or alive.  Assuming there isn't a CoFor fireteam behind him, Marshal York probably has body armor and a couple body augments Redbrick would rather not discover the hard way.  There's no chance in hell of fighting or escaping someone like that when caught so alone and flat-footed.

Marshal York speaks in a steady and methodical timbre, "Relax Mr. Batiste.  Let's just say I've never extradited anyone out of Thiel before, and wasn't planning to today.  I've heard things about you Mr. Batiste... as we Harad Marshals do... but only good things."

Redbrick twitches as he feels his right hand resting on his sidearm, a subconscious habit he really wishes he didn't have at this moment.

"Seriously, Mr. Batiste?  You think you can quick-draw a big-iron like that?  I expected better from Ocean PMC.  You're lucky I don't offend so easily anymore."

Redbrick raises his hands in mock futility, "You got me, sir.  Maybe I should just leave them in the air."

Marshal York grins, "Relax Mr. Batiste.  Goodhaven falls within my Area of Operation and I'm curious about this Sheriff Department you're creating.  I've already spoken with Sheriff Wilder, but was hoping for a more 'operator-to-operator' level tour.  Would you so kindly provide me that professional courtesy, Mr. Batiste?"

Redbrick awkwardly agrees, still unsure of the Marshal's intentions.  He considers calling Anna in for the tour, but decides against it.  If this was all some sadistic pre-takedown mind-frak, he'd at least like to give her a fighting chance to elude detection and capture.  Just to be sure, Redbrick never mentions her once in the tour.

However, Marshal York appears to have been entirely forthright.  He's genuinely interested in the nascent Goodhaven Sheriff Department, and complementary towards Redbrick when he sees them in training.  The tour goes so well, that Redbrick does a spontaneous Semtex demonstration that even the jaded old Marshal clearly enjoyed.

At the end of the day, Marshal York hands Redbrick a calling card before leaving, "You've done well out here.  Let Mr. Goldman know the Harad Marshals might have some work for Ocean PMC in the near future.  Good day to you Mr. Batiste."

The two operators' nightly dinner with the Sheriff that night could have gone better.  Redbrick casually mentions the Marshal to the Sheriff.

The Sheriff comedically smacks his head, "Oh yeah, he called me yesterday that he was coming!  What did he think of the Department?" 

Redbrick represses his anger long enough to explain to the Sheriff how he would've appreciated the advanced notice.  The Sheriff shrugs it off, oblivious to the crisis he inadvertently created.

Meanwhile, Anna storms off muttering, "Why the frak am I even here?"

She can't believe Redbrick pulled another power-play, freezing her out of a VIP meeting.

The Sheriff shrugs, "Must be hormones."

Eventually the mission winds to an end.  Goodhaven is quite proud of their new Sheriff Department and the Mayor declares a public holiday on their graduation day.  The main street bank and several other small business-owners pool their funds to import a full mammoth from Lossarnach for the graduation party.  The two operators have a great time eating barbecue in a festival-like atmosphere at the town square.

As the festival closes, the Mayor decides to give a speech:

"People of Goodhaven, I'm glad we can all come together tonight to celebrate the growing success of our endeavor here on the frontier.  There is no prosperity without security, and thanks to our new Sheriff Department, I'm sure we'll have no shortage of that.  First, I'd like to thank 'ole Nash Wilder for all his hard work over the years.  Second, I'd like to thank all our new Deputies for their diligence in training and their commitment to civic service.  Last, but not least, I would like to extend special gratitude to our distinguished guest tonight,  Mr. Roderick 'Redbrick' Batiste, from Ocean's Ten.  I can't imagine what fantastic adventure he missed out on to putter around in our dusty little town for a month.  While I'm sure you're a busy man Mr. Batiste, you'll always have a home here in Goodhaven.  You and your lovely assistant, Anya Clapton, are welcome back anytime."

Spoiler: Mission Summary (click to show/hide)

Turn Two

"Did you guys see that Int Geo thing about the tigers on Lossarnach?  They're saying Ocean's Ten did that.  A real change of course there."
"Yeah, it was good to see something that wasn't about those organized labor terrorists for once.  The Red River Riot was a new low for them.  I came to the Mothership Leviathan to get away from shit like that, now nobody will stop talking about it."

                     --Overheard gossip at Twenty Forward Lounge on Mothership Leviathan
                  
Contact Phase

"Not too shabby a start Mrs. Ocean.  All three of last month's clients were satified with our work.  We now have 80k in reserves and our casualties could've been much worse."

"The other bit of good news is that Neil and I have been following the media all month, and looks like no one but conspiracy theorists think we were at the Red River Riot.  There's some motion-blurred and out of focus amateur photos of Victor Vega with his mask off floating around social media, but with his facial injuries I don't think he was too recognizable.  In short, we're still anonymous enough to play both sides of that conflict if we like."

"As for new business, Int Geo and Goodhaven gave us a courtesy call that they don't have anything more for us this month.  Our boys brought back contact info for an Agent Barclay, AMR Counterintelligence & Facility Protection.  My limited research suggests he's legit, and we should be able to find work with him in addition to AMR corporate.  In other news, we received a direct message from Lossarnach Country Club, they stated they heard about our Smilodon work want to offer us an exclusive contract regarding it."

"Again, here's an updated list of contacts for the month."

Spoiler: Contact List (click to show/hide)

"Again, I can work out something with up to five of our contacts.  Here are my recommendations:"

Quote from: Contacts Vote (pick 5)
(1) Lossarnach Country Club: Sam
(0) Potter Properties:
(1) Anghabar Mining and Refining: Sam
(0) Tyrell Dynamics:
(1) Anghabar Mining and Refining CI FP: Sam
(0) Los Tornadoes:
(1) Swearengen's Gentlemen's Club: Sam
(0) Slavic Vor:
(0) Casa Nuova:
(0) Goodhaven Sheriff:
(1) Harad Marshals: Sam
(0) Flossmore Warden:
(0) Coalition Expeditionary Forces:
(0) Interstellar Red Cross:
(0) Amnesty Interstellar:
(0) United Labor Movement:
(0) United Green Party:
(0) Interstellar Geographic Society:

"One more thing Mrs. Ocean.  You seem to be really getting into your husband's old duties.  Perhaps an update to our insignia or motto might suit you as well?  If not, we can always keep the old one."

Quote from: OOC: Writing/Graphic Contest
Draw or describe the current insignia/logo of Ocean PMC.  Write whether this was Danny's original, or an update by Mrs. Ocean.  Similarly, provide a short motto/slogan for Ocean's Ten to use.  Ideally something short, catchy, and possibly even non-English.  You haven until Operations Phase to get submissions in.  GM will then directly use or otherwise compile submissions of his choosing.
« Last Edit: November 16, 2019, 06:43:54 pm by ConscriptFive »
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Rockeater

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 2]
« Reply #83 on: November 06, 2019, 03:40:47 pm »

PTW, not playing, just very crius
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Damnit people, this is why I said to keep the truce. Because now everyone's ganging up on the cats.
Also, don't forget to contact your local Eldritch Being(s), so that they can help with our mission to destroy the universe.

Naturegirl1999

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 2]
« Reply #84 on: November 06, 2019, 04:54:56 pm »

(2) Lossarnach Country Club: Sam, Natgirl1999
(0) Potter Properties:
(2) Anghabar Mining and Refining: Sam, Natgirl1999
(0) Tyrell Dynamics:
(2) Anghabar Mining and Refining CI FP: Sam, Natgirl1999
(0) Los Tornadoes:
(2) Swearengen's Gentlemen's Club: Sam, Natgirl1999
(0) Slavic Vor:
(0) Casa Nuova:
(0) Goodhaven Sheriff:
(2) Harad Marshals: Sam, Natgirl1999
(0) Flossmore Warden:
(0) Coalition Expeditionary Forces:
(0) Interstellar Red Cross:
(0) Amnesty Interstellar:
(0) United Labor Movement:
(0) United Green Party:
(0) Interstellar Geographic Society:

((Next time we train a specialist, let's go with Neil's Wildlife Specialist idea))
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Stirk

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 2]
« Reply #85 on: November 06, 2019, 05:32:15 pm »

Quote
Success.  Zero casualties

You forgot to take poor Anya's pride into account there.

Quote from: Votebox
(3) Lossarnach Country Club: Sam, Natgirl1999, Stirk
(0) Potter Properties:
(3) Anghabar Mining and Refining: Sam, Natgirl1999, Stirk
(1) Tyrell Dynamics: Stirk
(3) Anghabar Mining and Refining CI FP: Sam, Natgirl1999, Stirk
(0) Los Tornadoes:
(2) Swearengen's Gentlemen's Club: Sam, Natgirl1999
(0) Slavic Vor:
(0) Casa Nuova:
(0) Goodhaven Sheriff:
(3) Harad Marshals: Sam, Natgirl1999, Stirk
(0) Flossmore Warden:
(0) Coalition Expeditionary Forces:
(0) Interstellar Red Cross:
(0) Amnesty Interstellar:
(0) United Labor Movement:
(0) United Green Party:
(0) Interstellar Geographic Society:

Same reasoning as last time, Lossarnach job looks safe and related to wildlife, AMR jobs should pay well and give us a chance to avenge all those casualties, Tyrel probably needs someone to kick in the door to get their stuff back, Harad is likely willing to work with us and unlikely to screw us over given how bounties tend to work.

I'll wait to see if anyone playing this can actually draw for the insignia thing.
For our motto, pretentious Latin is always the way to go. "Ad astra per aspera", To the stars through difficulties. At least until I can come up with a better one.

Edit: I totally can come up with a better one.We've got to pull a quote from Ocean's 11.

"You bet big, then you take the house"
« Last Edit: November 06, 2019, 05:50:00 pm by Stirk »
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This is my signature. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

This is my waifu, this is my gun. This one's for fighting, this ones for fun.

Powder Miner

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 2]
« Reply #86 on: November 06, 2019, 07:54:46 pm »

(Dunno that Iíll be generally active, really, but:) Might want to do something with regards to Anna. Wouldnít do to have an operator end up resentful of the other operators and of leadership because of this sort of thing
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Stirk

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 2]
« Reply #87 on: November 06, 2019, 08:01:46 pm »

(Dunno that Iíll be generally active, really, but:) Might want to do something with regards to Anna. Wouldnít do to have an operator end up resentful of the other operators and of leadership because of this sort of thing

General "Teamwork Development" exercises should have been part of whatever our equivalent of "basic training" is, it wouldn't be a bad idea to invest in an Officer specialty who knows how to lead a squad including tactics, keeping moral high, and making sure the team doesn't hate each other. I don't see any other like...thing we could do given the game format.

It might be more fun just to keep those two together on low-risk missions and watch the drama unfold. We should consider entertainment value when assigning personnel in the future 🤔.
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This is my signature. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

This is my waifu, this is my gun. This one's for fighting, this ones for fun.

Shadowclaw777

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 2]
« Reply #88 on: November 06, 2019, 09:57:58 pm »

Quote from: Votebox
(4) Lossarnach Country Club: Sam, Natgirl1999, Stirk, SC777
(0) Potter Properties:
(3) Anghabar Mining and Refining: Sam, Natgirl1999, Stirk
(1) Tyrell Dynamics: Stirk
(4) Anghabar Mining and Refining CI FP: Sam, Natgirl1999, Stirk, SC777
(0) Los Tornadoes:
(2) Swearengen's Gentlemen's Club: Sam, Natgirl1999
(1) Slavic Vor: SC777
(0) Casa Nuova:
(0) Goodhaven Sheriff:
(3) Harad Marshals: Sam, Natgirl1999, Stirk
(0) Flossmore Warden:
(0) Coalition Expeditionary Forces:
(1) Interstellar Red Cross: SC777
(1) Amnesty Interstellar: SC777
(0) United Labor Movement:
(0) United Green Party:
(0) Interstellar Geographic Society:

We have to the two new mission opportunities because they have exclusive opportunities seems obviously, however we were discretely told that the AMR wanted to frick with us I don’t know why we would continue operating with them, I want to see one criminal organization mission and since we are definitely Russian based and should work with their Mafia as we have a fascination with shooting rioters there’s a definite correlative thinking here since we have no care for innocent casualties ;),  that should be the first criminal mission to take from that being the Slavic Vor, I also want to work on PR Amnesty Interstellar and IRC will help us in that department and make us look like the not bad guys on the ship and gaining a moderate income from their relatively easy missions

Also I doubt the mission from the Country Club is going to be easy, it’s directly “referring” about Smilidons if they want trophies of it that’s easy however, if they want us to capture a live one with our current tools even with a design of a tranquilizer rifle and whatnot, it would be very very hard to capture one for them.

Also Naturegirl please stop +1 the initial votes we get from our crew members, their a likeliness they are red herrings and hurt us, like Niel’s planning for instance with the Riot Mission. Maybe vote for the Public Relation improving good factions?
« Last Edit: November 07, 2019, 03:45:12 am by Shadowclaw777 »
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Naturegirl1999

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Re: Space Cowboys for Hire (A PvE AR-like) [Turn 2]
« Reply #89 on: November 06, 2019, 10:36:16 pm »

Quote from: Votebox
(4) Lossarnach Country Club: Sam, Natgirl1999, Stirk, SC777
(0) Potter Properties:
(2) Anghabar Mining and Refining: Sam, Stirk
(1) Tyrell Dynamics: Stirk
(3) Anghabar Mining and Refining CI FP: Sam, Stirk, SC777
(0) Los Tornadoes:
(2) Swearengen's Gentlemen's Club: Sam, Natgirl1999
(2) Slavic Vor: SC777, NG1999
(0) Casa Nuova:
(0) Goodhaven Sheriff:
(2) Harad Marshals: Sam, Stirk
(0) Flossmore Warden:
(0) Coalition Expeditionary Forces:
(2) Interstellar Red Cross: SC777, NG1999
(2) Amnesty Interstellar: SC777, NG1999
(0) United Labor Movement:
(0) United Green Party:
(0) Interstellar Geographic Society:
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